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I’m like a stray cat who happened to inherit a theater.

“Good morning, Marie. I’m fine—just a rough night. I’ll have an espresso, please.”

“Milk with it?”

“Straight.”

As I promised Ms. Kettinson, I didn’t drink before bed, but I’m starting to think I should have. It would have been better than lying awake all night.

“Do you need anything else?”

“A head examination,” I mutter to myself. At her confused look, I give her a weak smile. “Nothing, thank you.”

Marie pats my shoulder as she leaves. Once she’s gone, I drop my head into my hands. What am I doing here? Sabine is going to take one look at me and walk right out the door. With a groan, I press my head to the table…and then smack my forehead against the cool wood a few times.

“You look like death,” a woman says from above me. Her voice is sultry even though I doubt it’s her intention, and it sends a shiver down my spine. I’d know it anywhere.

I freeze, wondering if I should play dead. Sabine said I look like death—maybe I could pull it off.

“What are you doing, Alex?” the princess demands when I don’t respond. “And why are you here?”

Slowly, I lift my head. “Waiting for you.”

Today, her golden hair is down and straight, falling around her bare shoulders. She’s taken to wearing the current human fashions, right now in an aquamarine gown trimmed with lace. The cut accentuates her figure, the bodice hugging her curves. Just looking at her is like a punch to the gut.

“I’m meeting Frederick,” Sabine says tartly. “Not you.”

“He couldn’t make it.”

She purses her lips, looking at me like I’m an insect crawling across her boot, and then she turns to leave.

“Wait.” I catch Sabine’s hand without thinking. She doesn’t wear gloves today, and her skin is soft and warm against mine—which is a ridiculous thought when I’m probably about to be burned to a crisp by her potent magic.

The princess looks back at me over her shoulder, eyes narrowed to irritated slits.

“Have coffee with me,” I say, still clinging to her.

She pauses, glancing toward the counter where patrons nurse their morning drinks. After several seconds, she shakes my hand off. “I’ve never tried it.”

I sit back in my seat and push out the chair opposite me with my foot. “You must drink coffee while you’re in Valsta. It’s mandatory.”

The princess drops her eyes to the empty chair and then looks back at me. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll drag you back to West Faerie and make you perform tricks like a trained monkey?”

“You’re feistier than I remember.”

“And you’re more jaded than I remember.”

I want to tell her that a year of imprisonment will do that to a man, but that’s a topic that seems better left buried for now.

“Don’t go,” I say.

Reluctantly, Sabine claims the chair. Avoiding my eyes, the princess looks around the small café. As she takes it in, she brushes her hand over the hair that covers her ear, self-conscious.

I lean forward, lowering my voice as I ask, “How did you deceive Frederick into thinking you were a human? I could tell right away.”

“You already knew, so the illusion didn’t work on you.”

“Are you using magic to hide your identity right now?”


Tags: Shari L. Tapscott Royal Fae of Rose Briar Woods Fantasy