Page 32 of A Wayward Movement

“To Alton?” Alina considered it, not against the idea of a change of scenery. “All right. I could save the crown costs by staying with my aunt’s family in the nearby city.”

“There’s no need to save the crown costs,” Xavier said. “We’ll put you up in the inn with the rest of the group.”

Alina was about to protest, but then she remembered the relief her aunt had tried to hide on her last visit, when she’d said she wasn’t staying. She winced. Perhaps it was better to burden the crown than her family. She looked up to find Xavier watching her too closely.

“This is the aunt you mentioned?” the prince asked, his gaze keen under the air of languor he’d mastered so well in the years since she’d known him. “The one you lived with after your parents died?”

“Yes,” Alina said, smoothing her green skirt. “My father’s sister.” Not eager to discuss personal things, she folded her hands. “You said you want me immediately?”

The prince’s eyebrows shot up in a scandalized expression Alina knew better than to believe.

“I’m sure I didn’t say anything so forward, Alina.” His tone was as outrageous as his expression. “I don’t win women over by showing my hand so plainly from the outset.”

“I meant that you want me for the investigation,” Alina said, refusing to be baited.

Did he think she was a green teenager, quick to blush? He would learn his mistake. She was made of tougher stuff than she had been all those years ago, and she wouldn’t be easy either to shock with his flirtation or to overwhelm with his charm.

“And while we’re speaking of the investigation, Your Highness,” she went on, “I’m sure we’ll have more success with it if you don’t try to distract yourself with fruitless attempts to get a reaction from me.”

Her reply seemed to delight the perverse man before her. “I see you’re not so easily impressed,” he said, his eyes dancing. “Clearly you want me to work hard. Which is a great shame, because I have a deeply held distaste for hard work.”

“I do want you to work hard,” Alina retorted. “On the investigation.”

“Always so focused,” Xavier sighed, gesturing for her to walk. As they turned back toward the center of the town, he added, “We’ll join Captain Mitchell and the others at the inn. He’s the real leader of the investigation. Naturally my role is merely ceremonial, given my previously mentioned inability to work hard.”

“No one said inability,” Alina retorted, keeping pace with him. “You just said you hate it.”

“Very true,” the prince agreed, something in his tone that made Alina look sideways at him. He was harder to read than she’d expected, underneath all the playacting. “Captain Mitchell will be delighted that you’re determined to make me work hard, I’m sure.”

“This isn’t a joke, Your Highness,” Alina reminded him yet again. “Whoever is behind these disappearances needs to be tracked down, and quickly.”

“You haven’t changed at all,” Xavier said in a tone of complaint. “You’re still determined to doom me to tracking down someone who doesn’t want to be found.”

This time it was a little harder for Alina to keep her poise. His casual references to the childish but passionate attachment they’d once shared were the only weapon of his that could truly unsettle her.

She suspected she’d be wise not to let him figure that out. Attempting to hide her discomposure, she made a small scoffing noise.

“You want me to believe that you—with your stated hatred of hard work—tried diligently to track me down?”

“I did,” Xavier said with unexpected seriousness. “For at least three years I went regularly to the Craftsman’s Guild, sure you’d turn up among the new apprentices eventually.”

Alina’s eyes widened, the information stealing her voice. Xavier’s sudden earnestness fell away as he studied her face, a languid smile taking its place.

“That was years ago, of course,” he said. “I’m far too sensible now to waste time on women who want nothing to do with me. Why would I when there are so many who are so eager for my attention?”

“Why indeed?” Alina responded with crushing civility.

If she’d been focused on the prince instead of the investigation, the entire rest of the day would have seemed designed to prove the prince’s obnoxious claim. They spent hour after hour interviewing residents of the town, and Alina couldn’t tell if they got nowhere because no one knew anything, or because half the people interviewed—the female half—were too distracted by the prince to give much attention to the questions he was asking.

Alina admitted to herself that she was pleasantly surprised by Prince Xavier’s efforts. It was clear that he enjoyed baiting her, and that was unlikely to change anytime soon. But when it actually came to the investigation, he was taking it seriously. In spite of his reputation for being heedless, he possessed the rare skill of asking a question and then actually listening patiently to the reply. He certainly didn’t give a hint of being in a hurry to move on to the next thing, which officials invariably did in Alina’s experience.

She knew from his behavior in the tavern that he was as flirtatious as rumor painted him. But beyond the occasional wink at an overly starstruck girl, he kept that tendency locked away when conducting official business.

None of that stopped him from trying to get a reaction out of Alina when he wasn’t actively questioning witnesses, however. Being the only woman on the investigative team, it seemed likely that she would have the dubious honor of being the sole recipient of the prince’s famous charm on days dominated by official business. It was a good thing he was so entertaining, as long as she wasn’t foolish enough to take any of it seriously.

At the end of the day, Alina found herself following the group out of the markets. They’d spent hours there, speaking with vendors and buyers alike.

“Yes, I agree,” the prince was saying to Captain Mitchell, his expression solemn as he led the way between stalls. “Nothing more to be gained from lingering longer.”