“Please, call me Sabina,” I offer.
“The princess is on a tour of the castle,” Brevan says. “We should continue on.”
My brow furrows and I glance over at him. “I didn’t realize I was on a tour.”
“I can take her, Brevan,” Juliette cuts in.
“I’m supposed to stay with her.” He moves a bit closer to me.
“I think my cousin would be fine with me taking over,” she says.
“I disagree,” Brevan replies.
“Alright. Tea?” Juliette looks at me. “In my rooms after your tour? Maybe in an hour or so?”
I was hoping to find some books about the temples and Darkfall and magic. Anything that might help me find out about the emperor—but his niece might be an even better source of information. “I’d like that.”
Brevan lets out a sigh. “Come along. I’ll show you more of the castle, and then you can go for tea.”
“It was nice to meet you,” I say.
She wiggles her fingers in a playful wave. “See you soon.”
Brevan is even grumpier than usual as he leads me around the castle. He shows me another ballroom and a small study that has its own collection of books, and he points out the doors that lead to Caiden’s rooms.
“What’s the story between you and Juliette?” I ask.
“There’s no story,” he snaps.
“She’s not your ex-lover, is she?”
He gives me a look that could bring a small child to tears. I hold up my hands in mock surrender. “Alright. So not an old girlfriend.”
“It’s because she’s nothing but trouble,” he replies.
“You realize that makes me like her more?”
“I was afraid of that,” he says.
We travel down a set of stairs we had yet to use, and we end up in a busy kitchen. Servants and cooks hustle around, chopping and stirring and mixing and baking. Several pots hang over a large fire while loaves of bread cook in the oven above it. Someone dices vegetables while someone else is washing dishes in a sink full of suds.
An older woman, wearing a white apron over her gray dress, approaches, a plate of scones in her hands. “This wouldn’t happen to be the new princess I keep hearing about?”
Brevan reaches for a scone. “It is.”
The woman holds the plate up to me, and I take one of the pastries. It’s still warm. “Thanks.”
She smiles. “You’re prettier than they said.”
“She’s also already very important to the prince,” Brevan says, a hint of warning in his tone.
The woman lowers her head. “Of course, where are my manners? It’s lovely to meet you, Your Highness.”
“That’s really not necessary,” I say. “Anyone who brings me fresh scones is a friend. What is your name?”
The woman rises, her cheeks rosy. I never met my grandmother, but I’d like to think she’d be like this. “I’m Elizabeth.”
“Nice to meet you, Elizabeth.”
