Why doesn’t Frederick realize she’s Fae? Sabine is regal, with an etherealness that’s impossible to miss.
“Sabine wanted to see a show while she was in Davon,” Frederick continues, “and what better theater to bring her to than our own?”
I don’t bother to quibble over the use of “our.”
“Did you enjoy the performance?” I ask cautiously.
Her eyes fall on me again, disconcertingly familiar. “I did.”
“How did the two of you meet?” I ask Frederick, pretending her mere presence isn’t sending me reeling.
Frederick smiles at Sabine benevolently. “We bumped into each other on the street. Sabine asked for the season.”
“The season?” I question, wondering how he could be such an idiot.
Carefully, Sabine says, “It’s cooler where I come from.”
I try to smile. “I imagine the heat has taken a little getting used to.”
She shrugs with one shoulder, turning her eyes to the curtains as if she doesn’t want to look at me any longer.
“Frederick,” Penelope calls from the house doors. “Your father is looking for you.”
“I should probably see what he needs,” Frederick says apologetically to Sabine. Then to me, he asks, “Will you continue to show Sabine around? I won’t be long.”
The princess clasps her hands at her waist as Frederick jogs down the steps. Once he’s gone, she turns back to me, saying nothing. There are a thousand things I want to ask her—questions which demand answers—but my mind goes blank now that she’s in front of me. For five years, I’ve both dreamed of and dreaded this moment.
Like a coward, I motion toward the side stage. “Shall we?”
Sabine studies me for several seconds, and then she nods. We walk together, the silence that stretches between us awkward and heavy.
No lamps burn backstage. The only light shines through the side curtains, and the space is hushed. The rest of the crew is celebrating our final performance, off for a night of revelry in the city.
Steeling myself, I turn to Sabine. “What do you intend to do with Frederick?”
“Do with him?” she asks, startled.
“He has no idea what you are—he’s never interacted with your kind. Don’t toy with him.”
Sabine is quiet for several seconds, and then she laughs to herself. “I didn’t think you remembered me. I admit I was disappointed.”
Ignoring my chest’s reaction to her words, I say, “Your Highness—”
“I don’t intend to do anything to Frederick,” she interrupts with a sigh. “We met by chance, just as he said. I only came to Davon to see a performance.”
“You traveled all the way to my theater just to watch a show?” I ask skeptically.
“I wasn’t aware it was your theater.”
Now that Sabine knows I’m here, will she drag me back to Faerie? She must have guards with her. There’s no way the princess of the Auvenridge Court is here alone.
“It was my father’s,” I say bitterly. “He passed away while I was in Faerie.”
She watches me. “I’m sorry.”
“Listen to me.” I grasp hold of her arm, growing angry. “I don’t know why you’re here after all these years, but I have no desire to return. I won’t go willingly if that’s what you believe.”
In the dark, her expression flickers, and she removes my hand from her arm. “I didn’t come here to invite you.”