“Invite me?”
Sabine purses her lips as she studies me, her brow knitting. She glances around, looking as if she has no desire to be alone with me any longer. Heading toward the stage, she says, “I’m going to wait for Frederick in the foyer.”
Instead of letting her go, I hurry after her. “Are you telling me you’re not going to drag me back?”
“What are you talking about?” she snaps.
I stare at her, looking for signs of deception. But Sabine seems genuinely confused—and wary. Is it possible she doesn’t know? Could her mother have snared us into servitude without the princess’s knowledge?
I need to tread with caution.
Laughing a little, I slow my steps, giving her space. “I think…I’ve made a mistake.”
“Apparently.” Haughty, she continues down the stairs, heading toward the foyer doors.
“Sabine, wait,” I call, following her again. “Just a minute.”
The princess turns back. Her eyes flash in the stage lights, making me pause. It’s never wise to anger a Faerie.
I hold up my hands in surrender. Carefully, I say, “Forgive me. After we met, I had several bad dealings with your kind. It’s made me—”
“Paranoid?”
I blink, crossing my arms as I laugh incredulously. The princess still has a sweet face, but her tongue has sharpened since we met.
“I wouldn’t say paranoid—”
“Good evening, Mr. Devereaux.” Sabine begins walking again, and this time I’m too dumbfounded to stop her.
I rub the side of my neck as I watch her go, and then I follow with a long-suffering sigh, feeling decidedly off-kilter.