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Wendy blushed, a faint pink staining her cheeks. Few people spoke to the maid. Tristan was uncertain if it was because she was deaf and they didn’t know how to sign, or if they simply chose not to try. Her twinkling eyes told him she appreciated his attention all the same.
“Yes, my lord,” she signed back. “It is an honor to be able to help in any way.”
Tristan nodded, then strode closer, glancing at the busy hall filled with staff bustling about their duties.
He turned back to Wendy. “Have you ever heard of a sundrop flower?” he asked.
Wendy nodded. “They grow at the mountain’s peak. It’s fairly out of reach, but I do have a friend who can easily get there and back quickly if the Prince needs it. His name is Peter.”
Tristan set a leather pouch of gold coins on the table in front of her. Her eyes widened at it.
“Tell him to bring me as many as he can find,” he signed. “You both shall be compensated upon your return.”
Wendy nodded as she took the pouch and hid it in a pocket inside her dress. “Thank you, my lord. We’ll be back tonight.”
Tristan smiled, looking around the tables of fine china and organza material draped across the high ceilings in waves of blue and red.
“I want sundrop flowers in every room of this castle,” he signed to Wendy, then with a small wave, he walked out to his carriage.
Knowing that Rumple had a bounty on his head, Tristan opted to wear a simple old cloak and thrust the hood over his head as he stepped into an older carriage instead of his usual royal one.
A short journey later, he stepped aboard one of his ships and leaned over the railing to look out over the ocean. In the distance, he spotted a bolt of lightning strike the water. The image of the guardian of the Dreamworld surfaced in his mind. Her piercing glare as she stepped toward him. Her harsh words as she rebuked him. Everything about her should have appeared menacing, but instead, to Tristan, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. The way she closed her eyes and embraced the sun on her porcelain skin. Her strange fascination with the sand. It made him smile. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d felt like smiling.
Once docked at the marina, it wasn’t long before he was back in the heart of the Chanted Forest.
The horse-drawn carriage rocked back and forth as the wheels crunched along the dirt path. Tristan had found a moment’s peace in the steady rhythm of the hooves and the rolling of the wheels, but as the carriage began to slow to a stop, he sucked in a deep breath, wondering how he would ask a favor from a man who had once tried to kill him.
He stepped down from the carriage, careful to keep his face obscured with his hood, then started up the hill on foot.
At the top of the hill was a small thatched house with a smoke trail curling lazily from its chimney, nestled between two tall trees.
Killian stepped out of the doorway, his body tense and brow furrowed. He rested his hand on something hidden inside his jacket, which Tristan knew to be his blue glass knife.
Tristan pulled the hood from his face and raised his empty hands. “It’s me. No need for alarm.”
Killian’s massive shoulders dropped, along with his suspicious glare, but still, he didn’t seem too thrilled to see the Prince back at his doorstep. Not when he knew Rumple was sending bounty hunters after him.
Killian was protective of Ella, and now with a baby on the way, the man would no doubt be on edge for the rest of his life. He knew Tristan was no longer a threat to them, but Killian didn’t trust easily, and with their history, Tristan knew it would take time, even if they had come to an agreement.
“Come in,” Killian said, sheathing his knife. “Ella is just dishing out a rabbit stew.”
When Tristan walked inside the small cottage, he followed the juicy scent of meat and onion to find Ella busy in the kitchen. Her blonde curls were stuck to her clammy cheeks, and she wiped her shiny forehead with the back of her hand as he entered the room.
“Tristan. To what do we owe another visit?” Ella asked in a sweet voice, but her eyes flashed with worry. She was a smart woman and must have heard of the battles he’d lost against King Midas.
Tristan ran a hand through his hair, knowing she would be less than enthused about getting Killian involved. Taking him away from her while she was due to have their baby any day now would no doubt be the last thing she would want to hear.
But Tristan was desperate and running out of options.
Before he could reply, Killian strode in and took a seat at the table, filling his tankard with beer. “Come. Sit with us. Eat.”
They fell into a polite conversation as they ate the stew.
“So…” Ella finally cut in, her voice carried a light tremble. “What brings you back here?”
Tristan set down his spoon and let out a deep sigh. “King Midas’ army has proven too strong for my men. I need help.”
Killian’s right brow lifted as he glanced in Ella’s direction, but then he mopped his mouth with a rag and picked up his beer. “Go on.”
