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Although Mirielle did not pad around my suite naked, as I secretly hoped she would, we took turns spending nights in her rooms or mine, making love until the wee hours of the morning, taking meals up there and losing ourselves in conversations that sometimes brought us until the gray light of dawn.
I learned that she loved to fill the clawfoot tub in her room to the lip with bubbles and soak as we refilled the hot water, drinking wine. She discovered my affinity for black and white detective movies and had them on the big screen in the sitting room when I returned from my meetings with my Council of Ministers.
Those days were bliss for me, a hazy, elated time where the days flittered by, and I embraced the sense that I was under a spell. It didn’t occur to me that Mirielle might be restless until she released a sigh a few days later, my fist full of her red tresses, a gold-handled brush stroking through the strands as we sat on the bed.
“What pains you, Little Mouse?” I teased, cocking my head to peer at her profile as I continued to brush her hair. She turned her chin, tresses falling over the velvet of her robe’s collar as she smiled.
“Nothing,” she promised quickly. “I have nothing to complain about at all, do I?”
“And yet you sigh like a disconsolate house cat,” I joked, and she tittered, turning back to face forward as I set the brush aside. I sprawled across the length of my bed and stared at her, noting the slight shadow that fell over her beautiful face. “Mirielle?”
“It’s just… I don’t have any direction. Of course, I am happy right now, being here with you. But I still don’t know who I am.”
“Oh, Little Mouse,” I murmured, stroking her cheek with a finger. “Your memories will come back to you. We can’t force this.”
“I know,” she agreed. “But I’m also missing the greenhouse.”
I tensed slightly, and she held up a hand. “I know you’re keeping me here for my own safety, Zen, and I’m not fighting you. But being among the plants was the only time I felt… grounded, I guess.”
Her eyes widened as if she realized what she’d said. “I mean, you make me feel—”
I laughed, cutting her off. “I know what you’re saying. You have a connection to the plants. I get it.”
Gratefully, she nodded.
“You’ll get back there, I swear it. But for now…”
She lowered her head. “I trust you,” she told me quietly, and my chest tightened. “Whatever you think is best, I’ll do.”
I pondered her request over the next day and came up with another solution, presenting it to her the following morning.
I wanted to move Mirielle into my chambers with me, but she appeared ill-at-ease with the idea, even if she didn’t shoot it down directly.
“Why?” she asked tentatively, biting on that luscious lower lip nervously. “I mean—why now?”
I shrugged and eyed her through the heavily embroidered mirror where I dressed. “Why not? The danger you’re in hasn’t changed, and that idea of you wandering around naked when I get home after a long day is still really appealing. It might get me to get my work done much faster.”
I winked to show her I was only half-joking. The idea had come to me out of nowhere, but the moment it had left my lips, I didn’t regret it. I liked the idea of keeping Mirielle safe in my room, but she did bring up a valid point as she weighed my suggestion.
“I’m just down the hall under heavy guard,” she said slowly as we dressed the following morning. “We can go back and forth without anyone but the Royal Guards seeing us.”
“The Royal Guards and Cyndella,” I replied dryly, suddenly remembering my sister.
The past week, we’d been living in our own world, but Cyndella and the rest of the castle were bound to find out about what we were doing—if they hadn’t already.
I had to wonder how my sister would take this turn of events, but knowing her capacity for change, I wasn’t looking forward to telling her.
Mirielle stopped buttoning her jeans and cocked her head to peer at me. “Are you worried about what your sister will say about us?”
It was my turn to weigh a question, and I did with careful precision. “I’m not worried about Cyndella in the typical way,” I replied with the same evenness she had. “But ever since our mother died…” I stopped myself and cleared my throat, shaking my head. “No. Not died. Was murdered. She was murdered.”
Mirielle’s jaw slacked.
I scoffed lightly and turned to face her skeptically. “Surely you’ve heard talk about it. You don’t need to act surprised.”
She nodded. “You had mentioned it. But I don’t know the details. I knew about the princess—I mean, I knew about Princess Cyndella living in the castle, but I didn’t even know what she looked like untilthatday. You know, the day of the ball.”
Her lips pursed quickly, and I realized she meant the day of the attack.
