“Relax,” Franco says, putting his hand over mine. It’s then I realize my grip has tightened on his arm. He leans in close. “Tonight is going to go…swimmingly.”
His comment eases my nerves, and I latch onto it like a sturdy tree in the breeze. “It wasn’t funny the first time.”
“But you’re smiling.”
“Perhaps that’s just the glamour. I could be grimacing while I slowly die inside.”
His grin widens as if my jab had been the most forward of flirtations. “You, Miss Em, have the sharpest tongue.”
The way he saystonguehas my cheeks reddening, my insides sparking with a strange mixture of delight and annoyance. What is it about him that gets me so easily flustered? One moment, I’m holding my own, the next, I’m suppressing a smile and blushing like an idiot.
Outside the palace, we find a coach parked on the drive, just like this morning. I glance at the front, where two skeletal horses stand hitched.
“Were you able to find them? The…what are they called?”
“The moon mares?” Franco says. “Yes, I found Donna and Dominus and brought those rascals home. These two, however, aren’t they.” As we descend the stairs, I take a closer look at the horses and realize they do appear much larger than the ones from this morning. He leaves me at the coach’s door to give each of the mares an affectionate pat. I’m amazed at how his face transforms, glowing with boyish joy as he stokes their necks. He glances over, catching me staring, and offers me a sly grin. “Care to join me?”
I avert my gaze. “No, thank you.”
With a chuckle, he returns to my side and opens the door. Again, there’s no coachman, no footman, and he offers me his hand. I take it and hoist myself inside—only to find I’m not alone. Two fae, a male and female, nuzzle close together, giggling on the bench I’d intended to claim. At my startled expression, they pull apart and rise to their feet with a curtsy and bow. My gaze locks on the female, recognizing her short dark hair and enormous black eyes. It’s the moth pixie that flirted with the prince last night.
For some inexplicable reason, a flash of rage roars through my chest.
“Princess Maisie,” says the male, stealing my attention to him. He’s a slim, youthful fae with charcoal hair, fluffy triangular ears, and amber eyes. “A pleasure to finally meet you.”
Franco enters behind me. “Why are we all standing?”
“Isn’t that the polite thing to do for a princess?” the male asks. “Stand until the lady sits?”
The prince huffs and takes the empty bench. “Polite? Since when do we do polite?”
The male smirks. “I thought you’d at least want to impress her before she learns what a miscreant you are.” He and the moth pixie return to their seat, leaving me the only one standing.
“You should sit before the coach starts moving, Em,” Franco says. “Unless you want the same thing to happen that occurred earlier.” His brows raise suggestively, reminding me of how I fell on him—twice—when our coach was attacked.
Trying not to let my annoyance show, I settle onto the empty seat next to the prince.
The male looks from me to Franco. “Em? Who’s Em?”
“That’s what I call her,” Franco says. “Em, meet my ambassador and friend, Augie.”
“I see the two of you have become close in the span of a day,” Augie says. “Already choosing pet names.”
The moth fae turns to her companion, lips tugging into a pout. “Why don’t I have a pet name? I call you Augie-boy.”
“How can you say that?” Augie croons. “I’m sure I’ve called you…something.”
“Only when we’re in bed.”
At that, Franco knocks on the back wall of the coach and makes a clicking sound. The coach rolls into motion, and Franco leans close to me. Pointing at the pixie, he whispers, “If you haven’t guessed, that’s Augie’s lover. Her name is Seri. They’re appalling together.”
I furrow my brow, looking from the prince to the bickering—and now kissing—couple. I expect to see jealousy spark in the prince’s eyes, or some hint of longing or discomfort, but all I see is amusement as he shakes his head at them. I can’t be mistaken, can I? Seri is most certainly the fae I witnessed Franco lusting after at the ball.
I recall his words from earlier, when he told me he hadn’t meant to come across the way I said he had.It was supposed to be a riddle. Surely, that look in his eyes couldn’t have been feigned. And if so, why? Could Seri be…a fae courtesan of sorts? Have I barged in between some complicated relationship? I continue to watch the passengers as we continue the ride but can’t find a single moment where the prince gives Seri more than a cursory glance. The same goes for the pixie, who can hardly take her eyes off the ambassador. There’s nothing heated between her and Franco. Nothing to suggest I hadn’t imagined what I saw last night. Could my disdain for the prince have colored my impression of him? I’ve witnessed his arrogance. His smugness. His annoying sense of humor. But I’ve also seen that hint of vulnerability. Thoughtfulness when he tied my shoes to my feet. Mercy when he could have thrown me into the dungeon.
The more I think about it, the more confused I am. The more I wonder if there are layers to him that I’ve yet to see.
* * *
