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SABINE

I wake in yet another new room, this one with soft periwinkle linens that smell faintly of roses. I wrinkle my nose at the fragrance.

The flowers always remind me of Drake’s obsession. I didn’t notice it last night, likely because I was practically dead on my feet by the time we arrived.

A maid knocks softly on the door and then tiptoes into the bedchamber, carrying a porcelain tea set. Softly, she whispers, “Are you awake, Miss Sabine?”

She gasps when I sit up, her eyes straying to my ears. Turning pink, she immediately looks at the teapot.

Uncomfortable, I attempt to hide my heritage with my hair.

“Good morning.” She continues to avoid my face as she sets the tray on the bedside table. “I hope you slept well? I didn’t want to rouse you too early.”

“Good morning,” I reply, my voice a touch raspy. I slept, but my night was riddled with dreams that are just out of reach.

I wince as I move my hand, too scared to take off the bandage to examine the wound. It still hurts, so it didn’t heal overnight as it should have.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” the maid asks.

“Yes, please.”

She prepares it and then leaves me to enjoy it in peace. But just as I’m taking the first sip, there’s another knock at the door.

“It’s Frederick,” my host calls from the hall.

I comb through my hair with my fingers and pull the covers up a little higher, ensuring I’m presentable before I invite him inside.

“All right.”

When Frederick appears in the doorway, he’s carrying his own teacup. Pointing to it, he asks, “May I join you?”

I nod, watching him as he crosses the room to a chair near the bed. He helps himself to the tea, adding as much sugar as a child, and then turns to me when the steaming cup is in his hands. “I hope it’s not too early for the intrusion. I find it’s always more pleasant to enjoy the first cup of the day with a companion.”

I smile down at my tea, glad for his company but not eager to admit it. He’s friends with Alex and, therefore, a snake. Whether he’s a harmless garden snake, or something venomous, I haven’t decided yet.

Alex is undoubtedly the latter.

Thinking of Alex, I look at the ring, scowling at it in the bright light of morning.

“Is it painful?” Frederick asks, following my gaze.

After taking a sip of my tea, relishing the way the hot liquid coats my dry throat, I answer, “It’s uncomfortable, but I can’t say it hurts.”

“I don’t know what Alex was thinking—this isn’t like him. He’s been obsessed with—”

“Let me finish this first cup before we speak of him.”

Frederick winces. “You best hurry then, because I’m afraid Alex is the subject I wish to discuss.”

I eye him, taking another slow sip. He stares at his cup, his finger twitching against the saucer.

“You might as well get on with it,” I say with a sigh.

Frederick lifts his eyes to my face. “Did Alex tell you about his year in West Faerie?”

Guilt snakes through my stomach, but I don’t look away. “I had nothing to do with it. I didn’t even know.”

If I had, I would have found him. Even if I couldn’t have freed him from the tether, I could have commanded Lord Treald to relinquish him to me.


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