I hesitate for a few seconds before I follow her. “I’ve heard a rumor that your mother lengthened the safe passage to a week.”
Sabine shakes her head. “Not my mother—me.”
“You?” I ask dumbly. “But you’re…”
“Just the princess?” She smiles to herself. “I suppose the news hasn’t reached the heart of Valsta yet, but my mother is currently indisposed. I’ve been ruling in her stead.”
“Indisposed?”
Sabine’s pretty eyes flash, and she glances at her palm. “She’s taking a well-deserved rest.”
Only a fool would press the princess to elaborate. Her tone is cold, perhaps even a little spiteful. Dangerous.
All the Fae are deadly, even this gilded one with her pretty smile and captivating eyes. It’s a hard-earned lesson I would be wise to remember.
“But if you’re here, then who’s watching over your court?” I ask.
“My younger brother.”
“Aren’t you worried he’ll attempt to steal your throne in your absence?”
“Do you think I could be so lucky?”
I study her, my mind whirling. “You don’t want to be queen?”
“No,” she says softly, and then she laughs. “I don’t think I’ve ever said it aloud. It feels good.” She turns back to me, smiling. “I don’t want to be queen, Alex.”
I watch her, unsure how to answer.
She takes a step closer. “I don’t want to be queen.”
“Yes, you mentioned that already.” I swallow, affected by her sudden nearness and strange mood. “But if you don’t want to be queen, what do you want?”
She pauses in front of me, her eyes lighting up like a pixie’s. Though they’re blue, it’s the warmest shade of the color, complementing the gold of her skin and hair.
Slowly, her gaze drops to my mouth. She presses her lips together, thinking very hard about something—something that has my blood thrumming through my veins. “You mean what do I want right now?”
I nod, transfixed by the pink of her cheeks and the curve of her lips.
The princess’s eyes move to the collar of my waistcoat, and she moves in to straighten it. When she looks up, she says, “I suppose I wish I were human.”
I continue to stare at her, itching to touch her.
Sabine waits another moment, perhaps to see if I will work up the courage to take what she’s so blatantly offering. But I don’t move.
I can’t.
With a regretful smile, the princess turns toward the path that leads back to the castle entry.
Before I can think better of it, I clasp Sabine’s hand, spinning her back and pulling her into me. I catch her surprised exclamation with my mouth, kissing her like I did all those years ago. It’s a gentle kiss—undemanding, brief.
But before I end it, Sabine grasps hold of my jacket, using it for leverage. Her lips are soft, and her scent is like the spring court she hales from. Everything about her is intoxicating, and it takes a great deal of control to end the kiss instead of deepening it.
Slowly, we pull apart. Our breath mingling, we stare at each other. But as the heady rush subsides, and Sabine’s eyes come into focus, reality comes crashing back.
I kissed the princess of West Faerie—this time knowing what her people are capable of. Knowing what her mother did.
Immediately, I drop my hands and step back.