ALEX
I stare at the princess, in danger of kissing her again, especially when she’s this close. But I’ll control myself—I must after what I did. Sabine isn’t mine, and as she just pointed out, she’ll never be mine.
She has a life in West Faerie. Eventually, I’m going to have to return her.
The princess offers me a resigned sort of smile before she continues down the path. I watch her go, my heart beating like a snare drum in my chest. How can she say something like that and walk away?
“Sabine, wait.” I jog after her, gently catching her wrist and turning her toward me. “What if I didn’t have a theater to run?”
Her brow knits. “But you do.”
“What if you weren’t the heir of the Auvenridge Court, and I wasn’t the owner of the Gryphon Lane Theater—would it change your answer? If we stripped away the titles, and you were just Sabine and I was just Alex?”
“Alex.” Her face softens. “When we met again, we were strangers who thought they had a connection. Now we’re little more than acquaintances—and not overly friendly ones at that. Why are we doing this?”
“That’s my fault,” I say. “I’m sorry for what I did to you. And I’m sorry for assuming you were an accomplice in your mother’s crimes.”
Sabine studies me for several heart-wrenching seconds, and then she nods. “I accept your apology.”
“Let’s start over.” Encouraged, I take her hand. “Erase everything from our past and begin again.”
“I can’t do that.”
Frustrated, I release her. “Why?”
“Because the memory of meeting you is my most treasured possession. Don’t ask me to give it up.”
“Fine,” I say slowly. “Everything but that.”
She shakes her head again. “Not the other kisses either.”
I swallow. “Certainly not those.”
“Or when I nearly fell asleep in your arms.”
“Are you trying to kill me, princess?”
She smiles, and it nearly does in my poor heart. “But everything else.”
“I need to ask you a question—a serious one.”
Sabine sobers, and she gives me a solemn nod.
Dropping my voice, I say, “You said we’re barely more than acquaintances, but you like me more than Frederick, right?”
Her bright laughter rings through the garden, a spellbinding sound that reminds me Sabine is different from other women. She’s the embodiment of magic. Ethereal, otherworldly. And though she might let me walk beside her for a short time, she belongs to no one.
* * *
We lingerin the garden most of the afternoon. Once the sun begins to set and the air cools, we stroll down the street, taking in the nearby shops. We’re in the tourist district, with dozens of cafés, delicatessens, and patisseries, along with numerous shops. Sabine doesn’t seem to be in a rush to return, and spending time with the princess is far more interesting than anything I could do at home.
Everything is new to her—everything is wondrous. I find myself watching her, enchanted by her smiles.
We stop outside a shop with a striped awning, where the young daughter of the baker sells baguettes fresh from the oven. I pay the girl, and she hands Sabine the parchment-wrapped bread.
“Are we supposed to eat the whole thing?” Sabine asks as we continue walking, stopping to look at store windows as we go. The crust crackles as she tears off a section. After she tries it, she angles away from me, protecting the loaf. “Never mind. You’ll need to get your own.”
I laugh, snatching a piece from her.