I squint my eyes open to find someone crouched before me. My back is against a tree, my basket at my side. And from the stinging sensation on my elbows, I can tell I’ve managed to scrape the skin off both. Great.
“What are you doing?” the person asks nonchalantly, as if it’s normal to stumble across an unconscious girl in the middle of the forest.
I can’t answer quite yet. The dizziness is clinging to me like morning dew, sticky and heavy, and it takes another minute for me to blink away the spots in my vision. To see exactly who spoke. My blood sharpens at the same time my eyes do, and the drowsiness flees in panic.
Ohno.Anyone but him.
Willoh Vane rocks back on his heels and tilts his head, his brown hair tickling the colorful jewels pinned down the sides of his ears.
“You awake, Princess?” he asks.
Don’t speak. Don’t risk it.If he learns about my curse, he could—Gods, I can’t even imagine what chaos he’d wreak.
How long was I out? It must have been some time if he could get here from the citadel…
He reaches out a hand.
I jolt. “Don’t—”
We freeze in place—him with his eyebrows raised, that tanned hand outstretched, and me with my body pressed solidly against the tree at my back. Not that it will do me any good.
To my surprise, the sorcerer laughs and stands, tucking both hands in the pockets of his maroon leather jacket.
“Ah, of course.” Willoh grins down at me. “Wouldn’t want me cursing you.”
His eyes widen in mock fear, but his smirk is stuck tight. He’s taunting me. Just like he taunts Bash. Bristling, I clamber to my feet using the trunk of the tree for support, and Willoh leans on one hip, watching my every move. I can’t give him any chances. I don’t want to get involved—if only selfishly, so I don’t have to think hard about my words next time I talk with the queen. Or Bastion. Or Cardamine. Oh gods, I need to get out of here. With wood chips on my fingers, I pick up my basket to leave.
“You haven’t answered my question,” Willoh says, an edge to his voice this time.
He takes a slow step forward, which stops me from making it back to the path. More than a whole head taller than me, he has to tilt his narrow chin down to look me in the eye. This close, I can’t help but notice trace scents of warm earth on him—almost sweet, like balsam in summer evenings—and, strangely, chamomile. A healing herb.
“I don’t have to answer,” I reply.
He gives me wide doe eyes, halfway to a pout. “But I want to know.”
“Do you always get what you want?” I ask, glancing around his shoulder. Which route would take me to the flower I seek? Which one would take me to safety—away from him?
There’s that tinkling laugh again. I scowl.
“Worried about me, Princess?”
“I’m not a princess.”
“What are you, then?”
I don’t answer—my usual choice when faced with a question I can’t answer with a lie. In my silence, Willoh runs his eyes over my face. Maybe he’s looking for a weakness, a break in my defenses.
“Do I know you?” he asks.
“Maybe. I know who you are.”
Damn. It slipped out.
“How delightful. I havesucha reputation, I’m sure.” He grins again. With a sweeping bow, he steps to the side and holds out his arms to allow me to pass. “My lady.”
I march down the forest path in the same direction I tried before. Perhaps I can check the circumference, walk around the border of the barrier spell. There’s no way I’m returning empty-handed, even if Willoh Vane is on my heels. I look back to see the sorcerer strolling a few paces behind me, hands still in his pockets and an amused smile on his face.
“Stop following me,” I say.
