“As a fellow man, he’d sympathize with my plight of being forced to wear this…thing.”
I rolled my eyes. “Drama, drama, drama. Like it or not, that’s your costume for this scene. Now stop complaining and help me; it’s only getting later.” I consulted the recipe book. “Let’s measure the flour first. I already put it away. Has your deflating masculinity impacted your ability to find it for me?”
He stared at me for a moment before he left with a grumble to do my bidding, muttering something about deceptively innocent-looking heroines being bent on his torture. My lips twitched as I watched him explore the kitchen.
“My assistance is likely more of a hindrance, for I haven’t the faintest idea where to find the flour.”
“Keep looking; I’m sure it’s around here somewhere.”
He did, making a mess as he yanked open cupboards and drawers in his search. “It’s not.”
I watched him squirm a bit more before I blinked innocently at the counter. “Oh, silly me, it’s been here the entire time.”
He growled as his stomped back over. “You’re villainous, Rosie.”
I arranged my face in what I hoped to be the epitome of innocence. “What ever do you mean? I’d truly forgotten I hadn’t put the flour away after all. Do you really think that I, Rosalina, would lead you on a wild goose chase just for my own amusement? Wait—Ali, what are you doing?”
For a wicked grin was slowly spreading across his face. He approached slowly, backing me into the edge of the counter. My heart hammered, but not in a frightened way, more in anticipation at this delightful twist in the scene we were playing out.
“What scheme have you concocted against a poor innocent damsel?”
“One word, Rosie: revenge.” He seized me in his firm grip—goodness, his arms were so warm as they held me cozily against his chest—and hoisted me up. I immediately flailed in my attempt to escape, kicking my legs against his shins, but aggravatingly he didn’t loosen his hold.
“Put me down this instant, you fiend.”
“Not until I’ve gotten my revenge. Now, where’s that flour you sent me to find…ah, here it is. Look, Rosie, I found it. And I know just how to use it.”
I shrieked as my over-imaginative mind concocted all sorts of devious ways flour could be used as a tool for revenge. Sure enough, Ali dumped a fistful of flour over my head and proceeded to rub it into my hair.
“Ali!”
He laughed, a deep, warm sound that sent a ripply shudder over me from my head to my toes. How I loved his laugh, especially the way his chest rumbled against me as he did so, and suddenly I stopped fighting, feeling the strangest contentment to stay in his hold forever.
Ali paused. “You’re being strangely quiet, Rosie, especially considering you were just attacked. Did I go too far? Are you upset?”
I tipped my head back. His usual mask had cracked, revealing a face marred with worry, as if he truly thought he’d done something wrong.
“It’s quite alright; you didn’t upset me.”
His worry twisted into wariness. He furrowed his forehead. “You’re up to something. The question is: what?”
I wriggled in his arms. “If you’re brave enough, put me down and you’ll find out.” The truth was I didn’t want him to release me at all…although if he held me much longer, I was certain I’d faint from how strangely dizzy I was suddenly feeling with waves of sensations rippling over me. He set me down gently and I immediately ducked beneath his arms, seized a handful of flour, and threw it into his face.
He gaped at me with a look of utter betrayal as he rapidly blinked at me through his flour-covered face. “So this is the game you want to play?”
“Who says it’s a game?”
He nodded gravely. “Well, if playing will keep you out of mischief, then I’ll happily participate in this nonsense with you.”
He threw a fistful of flour at me, I threw more back at him, and it escalated into a full-fledged flour fight, complete with all manner of delightful cheating, foul plays, spectacular hits, and laughter. Eventually, we settled onto the flour-coated floor in stitches. I loved watching Ali laugh; it lit up his entire expression.
I leaned against Ali’s firm chest and tipped my head back. “You’re surprisingly fun for someone so serious.”
“Aren’t characters in novels always full of surprises?”
That got me giggling again. “I love how you play along.” From the beginning, he’d always gone along with my nonsense. It was wonderful.
His hand lightly traced up and down my arm, leaving a flour trail and causing me to shiver. “Not exactly, for you’re always several steps ahead of me; it’s all I can do to keep up.”
“You’ll keep trying, won’t you, Ali? We must always remain friends.” For I was anxious for this relationship of ours—whatever it was, for it was wonderful—to never, ever end. I knew I’d always need my co-writer to put up with my stories.
“For you, Rosie, always.” He smiled down at me, so sweetly. I smiled back, and in that moment, a strange energy surged between us, similar to the one we’d experienced together in the garden, one that pulled me closer to him and made me want to stay close to him forever.
I blinked rapidly and severed our gazes, breaking the strange spell. I shouldn’t be thinking about him, especially when I had such an important task awaiting me. I shook my head to clear it and glanced around the flour-covered kitchen.
“We’ve made quite a mess in here, haven’t we?”
“You mean you made the mess and dragged me into it, just as you always do.”
I smirked, but it vanished almost immediately as worry clawed at me. “Cook will have me hauled to the dungeon if she discovers this.” I gnawed at my fingernail as I glanced around the kitchen again.
“Don’t fear, Rosie; you’ll not be carted off to the dungeon on my watch. We’ll clean the kitchen until it’s so spotless Cook will never know what happened.” He stood, extended his hand—a pleasant flutter filled my stomach as it enveloped mine—and helped me to my feet.
Despite our spectacular mess, it only took us half an hour to scrub all the evidence of our flour fight away. When I’d put away the broom and Ali had put away the mop, I yawned and stretched. “How late is it?”
“Very late.”
I pouted. “I was afraid you’d say that.”
“I suppose this means you won’t get a chance to bake up mischief tonight.”
I brightened. “But there’s always tomorrow.” I fiddled with my apron strings. “If you can’t sleep again, will you rejoin me for more midnight baking adventures?”
He grinned and my heart soared to see it. “Definitely, Rosie. Someone has to keep an eye on you for whatever plots you’re brewing in that imaginative mind of yours.”
I returned his smile, pleased that my story comrade was so willing to continue playing his part, even if I was still unsure what story we were writing together.
I couldn’t wait to read in order to find out.
Chapter 13
I sat beside the lovely pond dotted with lily pads and cattails, hidden behind the palace’s majestic hedge maze, the perfect place to spend in celebration of my recent victory. I’d just completed a successful day of questing, which was perfect considering Prince Liam was coming tomorrow. Memories of our pleasant time together at the Dracerian palace filled my mind. I couldn’t wait to see him again.
I reached inside my bag to brush my fingers across the leaves plucked from a rare glowing-laurel fern—whose leaves changed colors every few minutes—which I’d discovered in a secluded area of the royal grounds, hidden amongst regular ferns. It quivered at my touch, as if it were alive. An excited glee overcame me whenever it shifted to pale rose, the color the love spell specifically instructed it should be when added to the recipe.
As I withdrew my hand, my touch grazed the smooth metal of the golden ball I now frequently carried with me everywhere. I pulled it out and examined it closely, just as I’d done befor
e I’d once again stolen—or rather, borrowed—it. Without a doubt it had helped me locate my second-to-last ingredient as I’d traipsed the gardens this afternoon, leaving me only one ingredient away from success.
I tossed it into the air and caught it, admiring the way the golden sunlight glistened off its surface. So pretty. This was most definitely an enchanted object such as was common in fairy tales. No doubt it would lead me to something fantastic.
A loud croak coming from nearby caused me to momentarily pause. A large frog rested on a lily pad and watched me with rather knowing bulging eyes for an amphibian, as if something about my actions fascinated him. I tilted my head, studying him curiously. In the very same fairy tale about the princess and her golden ball, she too encountered a frog, one who turned out to be a prince in disguise. What a delightful twist that one should be here now.
“Good afternoon,” I said politely just in case this frog really was a prince and I was sitting in the presence of royalty—never mind he was rather green and currently covered in warts and slime.
The frog merely continued staring.
“Are you acquainted with these gardens, Your Highness? For I’m on a quest and am in need of one final ingredient. Do you happen to know where I might find a lueur moonflower?
The frog made no response. How rude. I glared.
“Do you not know, or are you refusing to tell me?”
The frog remained unresponsive save for his yellow throat puffing in and out as he croaked. I harrumphed as I resumed tossing and catching my golden ball, a bit more aggressively than before.
“If you’re a prince, then you’re being most impolite by refusing to help a damsel in distress when she’s in dire need of your assistance in—oh no!” I fumbled with the golden ball, but it slipped through my fingers and rolled down the sloping lawn to plop into the pond.
I gasped. I, Rosalina, had just lost an enchanted object pilfered from the royal family. I scrambled down the bank to peer into the blue-green water for any sign of my lost object. Only my pale, wide-eyed reflection stared back at me. I nibbled my fingernail. Did I dare risk putting my hand inside? I had no way of knowing what sort of water this was—normal water, enchanted water, or water that would result in dastardly injuries from a single touch.
The frog croaked again, as if he were laughing, and I glared at it. “Now look what you made me do. You’re supposed to help princesses, not cause trouble. No spell-breaking kiss for you.”
“Do my ears deceive me? Is Rosie blaming someone other than me for the predicament in which she currently finds herself?”
My heart gave a strange leap at the sound of that voice. I turned to see Ali leaning casually against the back wall of the hedge maze, arms folded with a teasing look in his eyes. He made a show of glancing around. No one but us—and the obnoxious frog—was here.
“If you don’t mind my asking, who are you talking to?”
Ali was the last person I wanted to see right now. Friend or not, as a guard, it was his duty to punish criminals such as myself. Oh horrors, how had I ended up in such a plight? Why couldn’t I have left that golden ball alone?
“Why do you want to know?” I asked, my shaking voice betraying my guilt.
“I find myself quite invested, considering I heard there’s a kiss in store for this mysterious individual.”
My cheeks flared with heat. So he’d heard everything. Of course. This nosy man always seemed to find me at my worst and took great delight in tormenting me over that fact.
“I’m not kissing anyone but my true love. I was conversing with this frog, who is quite likely an enchanted prince. Everyone knows the only way to break such spells is by a kiss, but I refuse to waste one on the likes of him. I was just telling him so when you arrived.”
He stared at me with a deadpan expression, leaving me no clues as to what he was thinking or feeling. For some reason it bothered me more than usual.
“Let me see if I understand the situation correctly,” he finally said slowly. “You’re conversing with a frog in case it’s a prince in disguise?”
My eyes narrowed. “Is that a problem?”
“Not at all. I just want to be sure I have the story straight so I don’t fumble my lines.”
He pushed off against the hedge wall and approached. My heartbeat escalated the closer he came and I found myself smoothing my hair, which had been rumpled in my frantic dash to peer into the pond. He squatted on his heels beside me, his gaze first on me before sliding to the frog.
His lips twitched. “I hate to ruin your story, but that’s not a prince.”
“How do you know?” I asked hotly. “It very well could be.”
“Because that’s a female frog.”
My jaw tightened as I studied the frog more closely. “How can you tell?”
“Female frogs are bigger than males.”
It bothered me he knew the difference. “You seem awfully informed about frogs. Perhaps you’re on your own quest to find your princess in disguise and break her spell.”
“My princess isn’t in disguise, but in plain sight,” he said with a rather smoldering look. My heart flared. He couldn’t be talking about me, could he? “Thus I won’t be kissing random frogs. Now, won’t you tell me what’s troubling you? I heard your squeal from the next garden and my curiosity led me here to see if I might be of assistance.”
“I’m currently a damsel in distress.”
“Are you ever anything else?”
I tore out a handful of grass and threw it at him. His serious expression didn’t even falter except for his lips twitching, as if he found my tantrum amusing. Odious man.
“Once more you’re determined to play the villain in The Story of Rosalina,” I accused.
“Ah, but you’re wrong—I’m here to help a fair maiden in her time of need.” He peered into the water. “I heard a splash, so I’m assuming you’ve just dropped something. What is it? Something that’s not yours to lose, I’d wager?”
My cheeks burned as my confession tumbled out. “Oh Ali, I know I shouldn’t have taken something so priceless from my room, but it was so pretty and I needed it for my quest. Now I’ve lost it. Oh!”
I buried my face in my hands. He rested a light hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, Rosie. I may not be a prince, but I do strive to be a gallant knight.”
I peeked through my fingers in time to watch him reach into the pond. “Wait, Ali, the water could be enchanted or—”
Too late. He submerged his arm and fished around, his brow furrowed. I bit my fingernails and held my breath, waiting…
He withdrew the golden ball with a crooked grin. “Success. Your stolen object, My Lady.”
I released my breath in a whoosh. “Thank heavens. I didn’t fancy the gallows.”
“Once again you come up with the most extreme scenarios.” Despite having retrieved the golden ball, he didn’t return it, but began to toss and catch it as I’d been doing. “So what quest were you on that you needed this golden ball?”
“I believe it’s enchanted and will lead one to true love, so I’ve been searching for the last ingredients for my love spell. I only have one left.”
Ali fumbled and nearly dropped the ball. “You what?”
“I’m only one ingredient away from succeeding in my quest.”
“You mean from ruining your life and the lives of others.” His free hand clenched into a fist. “For the last time, Rosie, you can’t spell Prince Liam. There will be consequences that even you with your vivid imagination can’t imagine. I don’t want to see you hurt.”
I folded my arms. “I can do what I like in my own story, and you shan’t stop me.”
Alastar said nothing for a moment before he sighed. “Speaking of stories…I’m glad I found you so I could return your book.” He retrieved Tales of Magic and Romance to Enchant the Heart, which I’d lent him several weeks ago.
My bad mood melted away and I clasped my hands in delight. “Ooh, have you finally read it? Do te
ll me what you think of it.”
“Hmm…well, as predicted, it’s sappy. Do you really enjoy reading about such superficial love?”
“It’s not superficial,” I snapped, already immensely disappointed in his reaction.
“The affection seems rather shallow. Shouldn’t genuine love focus more on one’s inner beauty? I must admit I’m disappointed to learn you enjoy reading about such meaningless love when I hoped you’d be one who looked deeper.”
A vulnerable look filled his eyes. I tilted my head, studying it. “It bothers you, doesn’t it, when people fail to see beyond appearances.”
He suddenly seemed quite preoccupied with the ground. “I’m just afraid…I mean, most people judge a book by its cover without even bothering to read the book.”
Sympathy washed over me as I discovered this rare insight into Ali. “Are you afraid women will judge you by your cover and choose not to read your story?”
His blush deepened as he kicked his toe into the dirt. “I’ve been told that I possess a less than attractive cover. I’ve always been compared to my brother, and not in a flattering way.”
I considered Duncan’s appearance. He was, admittedly, dark-haired and handsome, and yet…not particularly appealing to me. I stared at Ali, who was definitely not classically handsome, but how I loved being around him.
“You don’t look much alike,” I ventured. Ali sighed defeatedly.
“So I’ve been told. It’s never bothered me too much before until…recently, I suppose.” He stared into the pond, avoiding my eyes.
“If it means anything, I find you attractive.”
His gaze suddenly snapped to mine, his hazel eyes wide. “You’re just saying that; I know I’m not handsome. It shouldn’t matter. It doesn’t matter.” He let out a long sigh. “It didn’t used to matter.” He peeked back at me, cheeks crimson, eyes rather shy. “You really think so?”
I rested my chin on my hand to study him. “Yes.”
And I did. While he certainly wasn’t handsome in the traditional sense, I didn’t seem to mind. He was fun, sweet, and imaginative, with the most gorgeous eyes that were literally the windows to his soul, not to mention he had the ability to make me smile. His features were rough and serious while also soft and gentle, especially in his lip-twitching smiles. I nodded, confirming my own opinion.
The Kingdom Chronicles Box Set 1 Page 41