“I was asleep.”
“It’s the middle of the afternoon,” he said, raising an eyebrow.
“I…” My thoughts raced as I desperately tried to conjure up a lie. “I had trouble sleeping last night.” Technically, that was the truth. It’s almost impossible to sleep on the back of a horse. Still, Lukas looked unconvinced as he stared down at me with thinned lips.
“Interesting,” he noted. But instead of probing further,or leaving, his gaze began to roam around the room. “What’s this?” he asked as he moved over to my birchwood dresser. On the top, I’d laid out a few glass jars and bottles, each one filled with different rare herbs and wildflower cuttings. The prince peered down at the collection, picking up several of the bottles and studying their labels.
“Just ingredients for making medicine,” I said dismissively. “Though I really must insist that you give me some privacy to get dressed before you start poking around my room.” I rose from the floor, my arms instinctively wrapping around my chest.
He chuckled then turned back to face me. “Forgive me for intruding. It’s just that your room is so different from the bedchambers in my family’s wing.”
I forced out a polite smile. “It’s alright. Just give me a moment to call the servants.”
He nodded, but instead of heading towards the door, he chose to remain exactly where he was. There was a heated silence as his gaze lingered on my nightgown. “Actually, I think I’m quite content with this view. Perhaps I’ll stay here and watch while they undress you.”
My heart almost stopped.
“Why do you look so offended?” He leaned against the dresser, a smile pulling at his lips. “We’re to be married soon anyway.”
“Even if we were… which we are not! That doesn’t make it right for you to…” My cheeks burned.
“For me to what?” His smile grew wider, clearly enjoying this.
I scowled. “For you to look at me like that!”
“You know, I will be doing plenty more than looking once we are married, fiancée.” My heart stuttered as Lukas pushed himself away from the dresser. “But of course, how could I forget? You said you were searching for another suitor. Howis that going, by the way?” He stepped forward, closing the distance between us. “Have you found your mysterious prince yet? One who is willing to help with your little kingdom problem?”
It was so difficult to remain quiet. So difficult to not rub in his smug face that yes, I had found a ‘mysterious prince’, and from what occurred last night, he was very likely willing to help rebuild Corlixir. It took everything within me to not explain, in great detail, what happened in the faery kingdom – how I was carried into a foreign palace, how I woke up in someone else’s bed, how I was invited to a ball where this ‘mysterious prince’ would choose his bride.
Instead of the words just pouring out of me, I clenched my jaw and glared at the prince.
“I see…” he taunted. “You know, Naria, I would offer to help with your quest, but the only other unmarried prince I know is Prince Colyn from Hallshire, and from what I’ve heard, he is unmarried for a reason.”
Hallshire, the kingdom of farming and textiles. Surely they would have enough wealth to help rebuild a kingdom, but I’d never heard of Prince Colyn. Which meant he was probably much too old to consider, especially since Raena and I had limited our search to a certain age bracket. Still, a prince was a prince, and if it meant Corlixir would be rebuilt…
When I didn’t respond, Lukas spun away and returned to his snooping. For once, I was grateful that he did, as it was only when his back was turned that I felt like I could finally breathe. It didn’t help that this nightgown was far too thin and slightly too small. If he didn’t leave soon, I would have to resort to bundling myself in the blankets that were still a mess on top of my unmade bed.
The prince wandered past my open wardrobe, letting his fingers run over the different fabrics. Then, he paused when hereached the window. With a heavy sigh, he turned again to face me, leaning against the window sill.
“I have to admit, I didn’t just come here to apologise,” he started in a serious tone.
‘Or torment me?’I thought bitterly, but kept my lips sealed.
“I wanted to thank you too.”
Oh?
He shifted nervously as this time, I drew closer. “Whatever for?” I questioned.
“I heard that you had an… encounter with my mother,” he explained. “I don’t know how you managed it, but whatever powder you made for her has helped her immensely. The servants say she hasn’t been this calm in months. And she’s finally sleeping through the night.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “I know that she can be a ahh… difficult woman. But thank you for doing this. You’ve done her a great kindness and if there is anything I can… or we can do, my father and I, to repay you for this. Then please, all you have to do is ask.” He swallowed thickly before lowering his gaze to the floor. Something like pain wavered in his stormy expression, and for the first time ever, he looked almost exactly like the sad prince from the portrait that hung above the grand staircase.
Without thinking, my hand reached forward to take his. Beneath my gown and title, I was a healer, and before me stood someone in pain, someone who needed healing, even if he didn’t quite know it himself yet. His lips parted as our eyes met. Then, the faint pleasant smell of some kind of sweet fruit with undertones of salt found my nose. But before I could get lost in it, I stepped away – suddenly very aware of just whose hand I was holding.
“You’re welcome,” I finally replied, but the words came out a little sharper than I had intended. “It was the least I could do. I only wish I could help your father too, but I’m afraid I don’tknow of any powders that can cure curses.”
Lukas cleared his throat again before shaking his head. “No one can help him. He’s spoken to nearly every healer in the kingdom. There’s no one who can fix magic like that.”
“But what if he needs more than a healer?” My thoughts sailed to Arenn and how he cleared Raena’s charm with a mere touch of his finger. “What if we need to speak with people who understand magic better than any of us? What about the fae—”
