It’s the strangest thing. She and Astrid seem particularly interested in me. After my meeting with the princes, they spent the day following me around, asking me what I needed every two seconds and fighting over what area of the castle to show me next. I have to admit, the company is kind of nice. Between Astrid’s optimistic energy and Marigold’s constant lusting over the princes, I was laughing and smiling most of the day.
Not something I imagined doing as a prisoner. But the conversation at lunch has given me hope. I can break this curse and earn my freedom. I’ll see Papa again and life will return to normal. It’s only a matter of time.
I trace my fingers over the blue and red bracelet tattoo on my wrist. For a mark of a fae bargain, it sure is beautiful.
My first enforced dinner with the princes had to go down as one of the most awkward family dinners of all time. Keldarion didn’t say a single word, Ezryn sat there not eating, Farron seemed too nervous to swallow, and only Dayton and I polished off our plates.
But damn. Thefood. Decadent mushrooms filled with nuts and garlic and a savory red vegetable I’d never seen before. Warm bread that tore apart like clouds. The freshest salad I’d ever eaten, decorated with creamy cashews and pink radishes. And a lovely fizzy orange drink that almost tasted like mango lemonade.
They don’t want to talk to me? Fine. I’ll eat their food and befriend their servants and find a way to cure their damned curse so I can get out of here.
Now, I admire Marigold’s handiwork, bouncing a curl up and down in my palm as the morning light dusts through my window. “Jeez, Marigold, you could have a career in film. You made me look like an old movie star.”
Marigold grabs her chubby cheeks and coos. “Of course I did! You’d fit right in with Vivien Leigh. Now if one of these men could be a bit more like Rhett Butler—”
“What?” I nearly leap out of the vanity chair. “Do not tell me you have your own faerie version of Gone With the Wind.”
“Of course not, girl.” She walks to the wardrobe and rustles through a stack of dresses. “Occasionally, humans wander into the Enchanted Vale and bring tidings of their home. Or some faeries go for a visit. The princes used to do it many years ago before the curse. But that hasn’t happened in a long time.” She gives a little shudder. “Though who knows? You and your father made it through. Maybe the Vale has its own ideas.”
I shake my head in disbelief. I can hardly imagine these ancient fae beings shedding a tear over Scarlett O’Hara.
Marigold holds out a beautiful pink gown with a lace overlay of roses and cute cap-sleeves. It’s gorgeous. “Here you go, dear.”
I scuff a toe against the floor and fiddle with the cuff of my nightgown. “It’s beautiful, but is there anything in there with long sleeves? I’m more comfortable with my arms covered.”
She raises a thin brow and for a second I think she’s going to fight me on it, but she returns to the wardrobe and pulls out an orange long-sleeve dress, the skirt emblazoned with hundreds of autumn leaves. “You’ll fill this one out like a dream. And it’s seasonal.”
As I finish changing, there’s a knock on the door. I glide across the room to answer it, expecting Astrid.
Instead, I’m faced with six-foot-something of pure gorgeousness.
Rein it in, girlie,I tell myself.He literally tried to eat you two days ago.
Because Farron—my mysterious fae prisoner who I so desperately wanted to help, aka the rabid wolf monster who sliced open my leg, and Prince of the Autumn Realm—is standing in my doorway.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hi,” he responds, and his voice cracks. He deepens it and says, “Hi. Hello. Good morning.”
I give a little giggle and wait for him to speak. But he just stares down at me, his huge golden eyes taking me in like I’m the answer to the crossword puzzle he’s been musing on for the last hour. He wears golden-framed glasses, the round lenses making him look like a sexy professor. His outfit doesn’t help dispel that idea: an autumn-brown waistcoat overtop a high-necked cream tunic and brown slacks that hug his long legs.
A part of me wants to slam the door in his face for trying to murder me. But there’s another part—a totally insane one—that’s happy to see him like this. I thought he was a prisoner.
And when I think about what he said, about how he can’t control his beast like the others can, I wonder if he’s not actually free at all.
“Can I help you?” I ask when it seems like he’s totally frozen in place, staring at me.
He jerks, running a hand through his hair and mumbling, “Oh! Oh yes. Sorry. I… You look so beautiful.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“The dress, I mean!” he stutters.
Marigold comes up behind me and slaps my ass. “Of course she looks beautiful. And this dress is even prettier on the floor.” She cackles to herself and toddles down the hallway.
My cheeks heat and Farron rubs the bridge of his nose, muttering, “Marigold…”
We both laugh until finally Farron straightens and picks nervously at the cuff of his coat. “Ms. Rosalina, I don’t mean to intrude, but I was wondering if you meant what you said yesterday at our meeting.” He stares at me, those golden eyes shining beneath dark brows. “Do you actually intend to help us break the curse?”