“Every time you tell me not to worry, all my worries double,” Hugo groaned.
Augustine hurried around the desk and draped an arm across his brother’s slumped shoulders. “That’s because you’re a grumpy old worrywart who takes pleasure in fussing about every little thing. You need to learn to have more fun. I think chasing after a prince will do you a lot of good.”
“What? What? No! I’m not chasing after anyone,” Hugo sputtered.
Augustine cackled and snatched up the pouch of money Hugo had made for their mother. He darted for the door, waving the jingling coins in the air. “I’ll be careful. Besides, I can’t spend these coins in the woods.”
Well, that was true at least.
“Chasing or not, I think you should try to go to the ball and see the prince. You were lucky enough to meet that gold-spinning elf once. Maybe luck will shine on you again and you can marry your prince,” Dorian teased, painting a very tantalizing picture.
Of course, the moment was ruined when his brother stuck out his hand and waggled his fingers. “Just a few coins, please. I would like to stop and get measured for a new pair of leather gloves before I go to work at the bookshop.”
Hugo tried to give his brother a dark look, but it didn’t last more than a moment. Of them all, Dorian was the most deserving of some spending money. He was the only one with an actual job.
“You know, if we’re careful, the money in this chest will more than cover our living expenses for a while. If you wanted to quit working at the bookshop, we can manage,” Hugo offered while counting out the same number of coins he’d pulled together for their mother’s pouch.
Dorian chortled. “Are you crazy? I’m working in abookshop, taking care of and making beautifulbooks. Why would I ever want to leave that?”
A grin spread across Hugo’s lips as he dumped the pile of coins into his brother’s hand. Dorian had a point. He was doing what made him happiest. The aristocrats might turn their noses up at him, but Hugo wagered they weren’t half as happy as Dorian was.
“Plus,” Dorian smirked as he clutched the fistful of coins to his chest, “I’m very good at what I do. Even if I never marry, I don’t care. I have my books, and there are plenty of people in Branem who like my books. That’s enough.”
Hugo frowned at Dorian’s back as he strolled out of the study and shut the door behind him. It was wonderful that Dorian was so happy with his books, but the idea of his brother never marrying sliced deep into Hugo’s heart. Dorian was an even bigger romantic than Hugo. He was brilliant, funny, and sovery kind. There had to be someone out there who could love a bookworm like him.
Maybe Ev knew of someone.
Fifteen
Hugo glared at the spinning wheel and the giant bundles of straw, the scent tickling his nose and nearly drawing out a sneeze. He heaved a heavy sigh and tried to ignore the way his heart skipped as the metal bolt slid home, locking him away. He should have known that returning to the palace was a mistake. The promise of seeing Prince Everand was a temptation he hadn’t been able to pass up, but he should have.
This time, he didn’t have the chance to see the queen. The moment he’d arrived at the palace, he’d been handed off to another squad of guards—though this group wasn’t as rough as the first set—and they’d escorted him to the same room he’d been locked in weeks ago. No chance to plead his case to the queen. No opportunity to explain that he couldn’t spin the straw into gold.
So far, no one had said that he’d lose his head if he failed to spin the straw into gold, but there was the feeling that he wouldn’t leave the room until the task was done.
The letter from the queen hadn’t said much. It only stated that he was to come to the palace by a certain date and time, which was a full two days ahead of the ball. He’d thought thatmaybe he would be instructed on how to dress and act at the ball so as not to embarrass himself and the royal family, since he was their guest.
No, it was to give him time to spin the straw into gold.
Hugo’s gaze slid over the room, taking in its appearance. Not much had changed from his last visit. There was a slight improvement in the food. Now he had a full baguette, rather than half, and an apple. There was even a small bottle of wine to go with his water. If they’d added a bit of cheese, it might have been called a nice snack.
The spinning wheel was the same, but there seemed to be even more straw this time.
Cursing his luck, he walked to the window and opened it, letting in the late-morning sunlight and some fresh air. It was later in spring now, and the days were getting warmer. The window would help keep the worst of the day’s heat at bay.
He stared out, but this time he didn’t contemplate jumping to avoid having his head chopped off. Prince Everand filled his mind. Would he ever get to see him? Did the prince know he was in the palace? Would he care?
No, that wasn’t fair. Everand would care, but there was no telling if he could do anything against his mother’s orders.
Hugo leaned his shoulder on the window frame and stared at the empty courtyard far below. “This is what you get for wanting things above your station.”
“You don’t really believe that, do you?”
Hugo jumped at the intrusion of an unexpected but vaguely familiar voice. He jerked around to find the same strange figure in ragged clothes and a mask perched on the straw, swinging one leg. His other leg was bent with the heel of his old black boot dug into the straw. An elbow rested on his knee, making him look so comfortable and casual, as if it were normal for him to appear out of nowhere and rescue Hugo.
Relief poured through Hugo at the sight of the strange man, and a smile grew on his face despite his words. “I don’t want to, but it seems like every time I reach for something, it comes back to bite me in the ass.”
“Is that why you’re here?”
