She reached for her cloak and held out her hand. “Won’t you come with me?”
He looked annoyed, as if he’d rather remain within the leaking walls. But at last he relented. “For an hour.”
It would be far longer than an hour, but she didn’t tell him that. Serena handed him his great coat, saying, “I’ll go and fetch a basket and my book.” She intended to pack a picnic luncheon as well. It would be her atonement for ruining his shirt.
Karl crossed the room and brought ammunition and his revolver. “I’ll bring the weapons.”
Because every picnic needed guns. Serena resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
Outside, the ground was damp, and Serena studied the book, recognizing turnips in Father Durin’s garden. It was too early for any other vegetables, but there were a few potatoes and carrotsshe’d seen in the priest’s cellar last night. She might be able to prepare a vegetable stew.
From the herb garden, she selected cuttings of rosemary and sage, which she added to her basket. Karl looked impatient, as though he’d rather be anywhere else but here. His hand remained inside his coat, as though he took comfort from the revolver.
After she’d collected her plants, she continued climbing up the pathway leading to the top of the hill. Karl followed behind, but he looked disgruntled at the walk. The dark forest surrounded them, the sun skimming the edges of the trees, casting shadows over the lichen and moss.
Serena climbed higher on the pathway, holding on to the narrow trees to help keep her balance. The walk was more difficult than she’d realized, and perspiration dampened the back of her neck. She stopped a moment to rest, and when Karl caught up, he asked, “Do you want to go back?”
“Not when I’ve come this far. It’s only a little farther.” She caught her breath and continued ahead, until at last she reached the hill summit. The ground flattened into a small, grassy clearing with a stone altar in the center, adorned with a carved limestone cross. It was old, overgrown with moss, but she imagined the monks climbing the hill and saying their prayers here.
She set down her basket and chose a spot in front of the altar. The cool wind brushed against her face, and she adjusted her cloak around her shoulders. Leaning back against the stone, she drew her knees up beneath her gown and stared out at the glittering sea. The gray waters had calmed somewhat, though the waves were still choppy. In the distance, she spied a few lone fishermen with their boats.
Karl stood beside her, his eyes narrowed as he took in the view. He seemed unable to relax at all, for he studied the landscapewith the eye of a man who saw only the problems and none of the beauty.
“Will you sit with me?” she asked.
“No, I’d rather stand. And we’ll be going back soon enough.” He shielded his eyes against the sun and turned toward the path.
“Not yet. I thought we could eat our luncheon here.” She opened the basket and revealed the food she’d packed: a flask of wine, some of the sugar biscuits, and a jar of strawberry preserves. Though it wasn’t the most elegant selection of foods, she thought she’d done well enough.
Karl stared at the food, not speaking a word. It seemed that she’d confounded him once again.
“You really believed I would give up, didn’t you?” she said softly. “Even though I told you luxuries weren’t important to me.”
His gaze fastened upon her face, and there was a subtle defensive shift in his features. “This isn’t over yet, Princess.”
Karl didn’t sit, though he knew Serena expected it. Her words sank into him with the realization that she was right. He didn’t know her at all, but he’d placed her in the same class of every other princess who would fall into hysterics if there was the tiniest flaw in her food.
All of them would have wailed at the prospect of cooking a meal; instead, Serena had only asked that he help her. Her fortitude was like nothing he’d ever seen before.
She stood up and took his hand. “For ten minutes, stop being a prince, and just be an ordinary man. Sit and enjoy yourself.”
He guessed she was trying to ease his tension, to break up his mood. But the words only reminded him that he was a nobody now. A man without a throne, without a future.
He pulled his hand back. “I don’t want to stop being a prince, Serena. It’s who I am. It’s who I’ve always been.” The words came out harsher than he’d meant, but it was too late to take them back.
Serena returned her attention to the basket and shrugged. “I only meant…for a few minutes.”
Her confusion was justified, and he realized how brutish he’d sounded. She didn’t know what had happened within his kingdom. And once she did, she’d want nothing more to do with him.
If he had any sort of honor, he’d tell her right now that he was illegitimate and had no claim to any kingdom. He ought to let her go.
But if he did, he’d have to face a life he didn’t want. She stared at him, and he looked away at the sea. “Forgive me. It’s just the…falling out with my father.”
Serena moved beside him, her gloved hand barely brushing against his. She smelled like spring and the rain she’d danced in last night. Though he tried not to stare at the outline of her gown, the buttons drew his eye to the swell of her breasts. He saw the faint moisture upon her skin from their walk, and he had a sudden vision of unfastening her buttons, running his hands over her bare skin.
The sudden desire caught him like a fist, and he drew a slight step away.
“What caused the disagreement?” she asked.
