“Based on your extensive travel?”
Imelda stiffened. Part of her dimly recognized the jest in his voice. She understood he was teasing.
But he didn’t understand where her mind flew to in that moment…all those days spent in her father’s kingdom. The enchanted little chain tied around each of her sister’s ankles so that even when they wandered the labyrinth of the palace grounds, they could never truly be lost. Imelda had dreamed of seeing the world, but her dreams did not fit with reality.
If Ambrose had ever taken amomentto understand her, he would have known that.
Ambrose stopped walking. “Imelda?” he said softly.
“Perhaps once I’m through with this quest and this sham of a marriage thoroughly dissolves, I’ll have the chance to see the world.”
Ambrose opened his mouth as if to respond when a door suddenly opened. Imelda whirled around, coming face to face with a red-cheeked innkeeper wearing a ring of keys from a loop on his belt.
“Hello! Might you be looking for a room this evening?”
Imelda and Ambrose responded at the same time: “Two.”
Imelda looked at the innkeeper closely. What she’d thought were just apples in his cheeks now looked different in the flickering firelight. There was a ruddy sheen to his face. His eyes seemed glossy. Hungry. She recognized that expression. Each night that she had stolen into fairyland with her sisters, she’d seen the look on the faces of the fey. How they would’ve gobbled them up in two bites if they took the wrong step.
“I have just the one room for you and your wife—”
“Well, actually, she—”
“Sheisyour wife, is she not?”
“She—”
“She,” Imelda interrupted, “wants a second room with a second bed all to herself. Is that somethingyoucan offer?”
The innkeeper stared at her, a slow smile breaking across his pudgy face.
“Unfortunately not, my lady. But the room I have planned will be perfect for you both.”
He turned to Ambrose and winked. “Trust me, I know just how peevish one can get when one travels with a lady love! It’s all about whetting one’s appetite. That’ll fix you both right up.”
Imelda frowned. What didthatmean? She turned to Ambrose, who suddenly looked as if he’d been carved from stone.
The innkeeper turned away, humming to himself and fiddling with his keys.
Imelda hissed, “Tell him we’ll find somewhere else!”
“Where? We’ll just get through it. I’ll sleep on the floor if necessary.”
Ten minutes later, Imelda and Ambrose found themselves staring at a cramped bedroom with a single window that faced the woods and mountains. The walls were painted red. There were red silk scarves thrown over the three lanterns in the room. And the bed was gargantuan, covered in crimson coverlets. At its very center was a giant heart made from red rose petals. Worse…there was approximately half a foot of available floor space. They were, quite literally, trapped.
Beside her, Ambrose was busy shrugging off his horse cloak, which kept insisting that it be taken to the stables.
There’s simply not enough room for a noble stallion!
Ambrose draped the cloak over a chair, then took one of the bedsheets and threw it on top. Beneath the silk, there was some indignant shuffling, but it died down after a while.
Ambrose turned to her. Without the cloak, he seemed even more broad-shouldered than usual. The ivory-colored shirt had opened a bit at the throat, and he’d rolled up his sleeves, revealing tawny forearms. His gray eyes slid to the bed, then back to her.
He sighed. “As a maiden, I’m sure you must be concerned about your honor or frightened that—”
“Frightened?” Imelda laughed. “Look at this atrocious dump!That’swhat’s frightening.”
“I’m sure the innkeeper worked very hard at putting it all together.”
