by Laura Kenyon
“Are you all right?” he asked, staring into her eyes.
“Of course! I’m fi—” Her voice snagged on her attempt to force exuberance. She shuffled back a bit. “I’m fine. Just a little shocked.” She peered at the animal again. Now she recognized it as the strange looking mutt he’d been playing with that first night—the one that seemed to have scales instead of fur. “You say he’s a pet?”
“She, actually. Had her going on ten years now. Not the prettiest creature, I know. But they need love too.”
“What … what is she, exactly?”
He continued to stare for a moment, and then yanked his focus toward her feet. “Yeah, I wasn’t too sure either when I found her. But all my research says she’s a dreirem. Like a small dragon interbred with something. I’m not sure, but I believe she got mixed up in that whole Great Sleep fiasco. Probably the last of her kind. Three centuries out of her element. Imagine that.”
Dawn pressed her lips together. Imagine that. The dreirem was lying on the dirt now, with her blue tongue halfway outside her jaws. Dawn couldn’t be entirely sure, but it looked like she was panting.
“Does she—or her master—have a name?”
“Liam,” he said with a hint of reluctance. “And this is Maisie.”
Dawn smiled. Liam. An honorable name, strong yet warm. The name of a farmer or a knight in her time. But Maisie?
“What?” he asked, reading her thoughts. “You think Fang would be more appropriate?”
Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment and she debated giving her real name.
“If I may, I’ll go out on a limb and assume you didn’t wander out here from some cave.”
She made a face. What?
He chuckled. “Sorry. What I mean is you obviously live outside the forest. So I insist on walking you home. But if you’d like to freshen up first—or wash some of those cuts—my house isn’t very far.”
Dawn considered this for a moment. Were her parents alive, they would be screaming at her right now. Royalty or not, women who wish to stay alive don’t go traipsing farther into the woods with men they just met—no matter how secure and honorable they might seem. Then again, if Hunter saw her coming home covered in blood, he’d put an end to her midnight strolls for sure. Goodness knows he already hated them.
Dawn bit the inside of her cheek and scanned the area. They were almost smack in the center of the Regian Woods. Where could he possibly have a house?
“This way,” he said as Maisie scuttled to her feet and raced ahead into the darkness. “I promise you’ll be safe.”
Ignoring every rational thought, Dawn followed him down a slippery hill that ended in the valley. She appreciated the fact that he didn’t automatically take her hand, but was ready to grab her elbow just in case. She liked not being guided like a porcelain doll for once, but not completely neglected either.
When they reached the edge of the river, he stopped and peered in. This was where he’d entered her life—from afar.
“Are we crossing?” She looked around in confusion. “Where’s the bridge?”
Liam smiled and pointed to a four-foot square of calm water surrounded by three flat stones. “Step there, between the rocks,” he instructed, offering his hand. The touch of his fingers sent a shiver up her spine. She immediately let go and looked at the water.
“Between the rocks? Don’t you mean on them.”
He shook his head. “Between them. Trust me.”
Trust him? Based on what? Maybe this guy was crazy. Maybe his good looks were his weapon. Maybe this “house” was really a rickety old cabin from which visitors never returned. After all, she’d never heard of anyone actually living in Regian Woods. She’d thought it belonged to the realm.
Liam leaned back and crossed his arms, waiting. Dawn panned from the water to her feet—one swaddled in a scrap of his shirt and the other in a sneaker. “These aren’t waterproof.”
He chuckled again but said nothing.
For a moment, she contemplated turning around and running in the other direction. But instead, she listened to the little voice telling her this could be an adventure, and hopped forward. A dull shock flew through her foot as it halted, with her knee still bent, on top of the water.
“It’s solid!” she announced, as if delivering some miraculous news he didn’t already know. She ran her foot along the ice-like surface before edging forward again. “The water is solid!”
“Just stay between those rocks,” Liam called as she neared the center of the river. “Actually, stop there.”
She turned to wait as he caught up. Then she turned and looked straight down the glistening path. From here, she could see that the rippling water only stretched ten feet out from either bank. But the center—as well as a slim entry path onto which she’d just hopped—was smooth as glass.
“This is enchanted?” she asked, feeling tremors of alarm mixed with elation. “What sort of spell is this?”
“An old one,” Liam said, strolling to her side and indicating that they could safely move forward, so long as they stayed directly in the center. “It’s been here for ages, but you have to know exactly where to step in order to find it.”
“So how do you know where to step?”
He shrugged. “Just lucky, I guess.”
Dawn’s head spun, but she wasn’t scared. This was probably the most excitement she’d had in years. The river was like liquid moonlight, curving as far as she could see. As they walked, the shores on either side soon disappeared—replaced by massive cliffs, dwarfing them and ensuring no one but fish and magic-path-walkers like them could come this far. For a few minutes, this was all Dawn saw: a sparkling pathway, two massive walls, a starry sky, and Liam.
“How’s your leg?” Their hands brushed together again.
Dawn increased the gap between them. “It’s fine. Just stings a bit.”
“We’re almost there. Just around this bend.”
She nodded as the path curled around like the last coil of smoke off a candle. Then, abruptly, a luminescent valley opened up before them. Her eyes flew wide in wonder. The cliffs disappeared and trees draped in crystals rose up to flank their path—their branches stretching overhead like nets of fallen stars. And the water … well, the water was now just a path, bordered by flowers so colorful and vibrant, Dawn wondered whether they’d sprung from sowed gemstones. Were they still in Regian or had he taken her to some other dimension?
Faced with such unimaginable beauty, she found walking and looking to be an impossible combination. When she stumbled for the third time, Liam insisted she take his arm. But it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen—until the crystal tunnel ended and a giant mansion appeared.
“You live in that?” she heard herself ask, mouth fully agape. Perhaps it was an illusion, but the walls seemed to be draped in blue, purple, and white flakes of ice that changed color depending on how she moved.
“In my defense,” Liam said, “if someone told me not long ago that I’d ever live in a place like this, I would have assumed he was either insane or making a bid for my soul.” He gave Dawn a sideward glance. She returned an all-teeth smile. “I believe there are few things as elusive as luck. A man can fall asleep one day in a hayloft and wake up with the world at his fingertips. Or he can close his eyes on a bed of silk and rise in a pile of rubble. For the moment, I’m thankful to have experienced the former.”
Dawn made a quiet guttural sound. She was the latter for sure, but no one would ever understand that.
“So what’s your story then?” she asked when he didn’t elaborate. “I mean, were you born here or—”
“Oh. No. I come from a very different place entirely. Lived there till I was a teenager and then got shipped off to Pastora. Distant relatives.” Dawn nodded. Pastora was the realm just north of Marestam. She’d only been there once, for one of Hunter’s grand unveilings, and couldn’t imagine a place more monotonous.
“Shipped off? Why?”
Liam rolle
d his neck from left to right and then raised his shoulders. “It’s a long story. Wait here just a second.”
Dawn nodded, though she wanted to keep going. They were just on the outskirts of a breathtaking courtyard that seemed to glow in the darkness. Seeing no reason to wait, she stepped forward. Her shoeless toe immediately cracked against something hard. She cursed. Way to mangle her one good foot.
Liam let out that exuberant laugh. “If you recall,” he said, bending over a keypad at the base of a giant oak tree, “I did advise you to wait. There’s an invisible fence surrounding the house.” She watched him hit a few buttons and stand up. “Onward.”
Dawn frowned and waited for him to lead. Between the dreirem and the river and now the invisible perimeter fence, something told her Liam was finding this all too amusing. She followed him into the courtyard, but almost immediately wandered off down a side aisle. Then another aisle. Then another.
She found herself surrounded by sunflowers taller than her, which actually seemed to radiate golden heat against her cheek. Scarlet roses climbed an invisible trellis on nothing but air. Row upon row of magnolias and orchids and peonies pulsated from violet to pink to yellow in the darkness, lighting the night like a wonderland. She felt like an ant inside Morning’s little toy garden—a plastic box filled with fabric flowers and fiber optic strands that changed color on a continuous loop.
Losing herself, she caressed the blossoms and inhaled a mixture of fragrances so intoxicating she wanted to lie on her back and stay forever. Several minutes passed before her host reappeared, carrying a dazzling crystal rose with onyx petals laced in white. “Beautiful rose for a beautiful lady?”
Her heart, forgetting to beat a few times, rushed to catch up as she twirled the stem and caressed the petals against her cheek. It certainly felt like a real flower, but—
“You must have fairy blood,” she said, almost betraying a beautiful moment.
Liam’s lips curled up—in a way that said he knew much more than she could ever understand. In the glow of the flowers, she could now see that his eyes were a dazzling mix of green, brown, and gold. Even looking into them made her feel weak.
“Actually, no,” he said, guiding her toward the front steps. “But I have connections. And all the proper permits.”
Dawn hoped her cheeks didn’t look as red as they felt—or at least that the color blended in with the rainbow radiating around them. “You should clean up before the blood dries.” He stopped before the front door and searched her eyes with such intensity she wondered if he could somehow read minds. They were inches apart when she came to an unsettling realization: Were it not for her children, Dawn would have traded one night with this stranger, in this place, for thirty years of her real life. In a heartbeat.
“Thanks,” she said. “But first, there’s something I haven’t told you.”
Liam’s cheeks bounced up. “Yes?” His voice had an odd edge of excitement.
“I never gave you my name. I —”
“I know who you are, Your Majesty.” Liam bowed his head for a brief moment, then brought her hand to his lips.
A thrill shot up her spine, causing her to yank it back as if she’d been shocked.
“Sorry,” she said, feeling like an utter fool. “I mean … I believe we’re past the formalities. Please just call me Dawn.”
* * *
“And how were your nocturnal wanderings?” Hunter asked in front of the mirror as Dawn spiked his coffee with his customary morning brandy. “I still wish you’d just stay inside the castle … or at least take a guard with you. Any number of things could happen out there and I hate to think it’s even possible I could lose you.”
“I’m fine,” Dawn assured, placing his drink by the dresser and securing the lid. “You really shouldn’t waste your time worrying about me. You have far more important things to consider—all those mergers to manage and land to clear and people to fire.”
Hunter sighed and flipped his maroon tie into position. “I know you don’t understand,” he said, prompting an unseen eye roll from his wife. “But everything I do is for us. And it’ll all be for naught if you get lost in the woods and stumble off a cliff.”
Dawn paused, then brushed a stray hair from his suit. “Don’t be silly. It’s only a stroll.”
Giving himself a final once-over, Hunter arched his eyebrow in approval and ran a large hand over the blond crests atop his head. Then he reached out suddenly and hooked Dawn’s body against his. “I swear, if it were possible to shrink you and keep you in a little glass jar all day long, I would.”
She leaned back, repulsed by the thought and eager for him to leave. But then she did the unthinkable. She imagined that her husband was Liam. Liam was holding her that way. Liam’s fingers were spread out across her back.
Her face softened as their bodies pressed together. Her hair swept back over his arms and she let out a passionate groan … which Hunter immediately echoed … flashing Dawn back to mortified reality. A secret terror grabbed hold as she feared she’d given something away. Not that she’d done anything wrong, but … well … she hadn’t exactly done anything overtly right either.
“Well, somebody’s certainly feeling frisky his morning,” Hunter cooed, his lips moving up her neck as his muscles dug into her bones. “Of all the days to be meeting with the board. Promise me you’ll save some of that excitement for tonight, will you?”
Dawn smiled and fell out of his arms. “You’d better get going,” she said. “Oh, and we’ve got Griffin’s party and Morning’s violin recital this weekend, so don’t make any plans."
Hunter gave a sarcastic salute, grabbed the college ring that doubled as a wedding band, and headed out the door with an air-swept kiss.
Dawn raced to the window to watch him speed off in his Coaché 7 Series, then sprinted back to her dresser and yanked open the bottom drawer. She tore out a nightgown, two pieces of lingerie she hadn’t worn in ages, and a silk bathrobe before finally reaching the linen pillowcase she’d buried just a few hours earlier.
Scampering back to the couch with her treasure, she plunged into the cushions and giddily unrolled the package, careful not to bend a single leaf. Her lungs filled with air when she saw the first crystal petal. Drawing the rose up to her cheek, she closed her eyes and released a decade of repressed desire in one long sigh.
Chapter Six
RAPUNZEL
From: [email protected]
Sent: Friday, September 10
To: cinderella.charmé@carpale.gov
Subject: Wherefore art thou?
Cin,
I was just joking about the baby showers remark. I mean, DON’T go planning any, but I only said that because your “the one” comment freaked me out. I hope that’s not why I haven’t heard from you in two weeks. I HOPE it’s actually because you and Aaron are taking a page from my book and finding out how long you can survive on nothing but room service and bed sheets.
But anyway. Here’s a little roundup of what’s been going on here. The good parts, anyway. I absolutely refuse to ruin your vacation with drama.
1 – Snow’s throwing Griffin a birthday party tomorrow. Yeah, I know. It’s exceptionally last-minute and so NOT worth traveling all the way to Tantalise, but she doesn’t invite people over often so I’m obliged to go. (At least that’s what Belle tells me. And Ethan.)
2 – You’ll be happy to know that Ethan and I are still going strong, though we did have a minor tiff about him moving in. And then another because he’s not helping me find Grethel now that I know she’s alive. He just keeps saying that she emerged from out of nowhere, healed him, and disappeared just as fast. “After all,” he says, “I was blind.” Bleh. But he’s GOT to remember SOMETHING helpful. Doesn’t he? Even if it’s just that she was wearing tropical clothes vs. a fur coat. At least I could narrow it down by climate!
3 – Belle is running the Phoenix like a seasoned pro. I’m trying to convince her to hire a live-in helper (preferably a stron
g, handsome, benevolent-but-still-titillating MAN who isn’t turned off by baby bumps), but she’s determined to do everything on her own. It’s been quite a source of contention, but hopefully I’ll have progress to report by the time you write me back. Which I hope is soon…
XOX and miss you,
Pun
P.S. If you guys ARE turning your hotel room into a hibernation cave of pleasure … take my advice: Get up and walk around every once in a while. And shower. Trust me, your skin will thank you.
Chapter Seven
BELLE
Belle woke with a silver snout pressing into her neck and an article titled “Stretch Your Wardrobe Like Your Belly” propped against her knees. Her tongue had a leathery roughness to it and the distinct taste of onions that had been fermenting in her mouth for an hour.
She vaguely remembered something about an onion and mustard breakfast casserole. No, that wasn’t it. An onion, mustard, and pickle breakfast casserole. She’d made it for her guests that morning, forgetting that the cravings of a pregnant woman don’t always mesh with those of non-fetus-hauling-human beings. Now, she had a strong suspicion that they didn’t mesh with her own either. Feeling a gurgle, she clamped her lips tight and galumphed her way into the bathroom.
As usual, she’d woken up that morning the moment the sun broke over the horizon, taken Beast for a walk, and started the coffee. Nathan always arrived at nine o’clock on the dot, dressed in something spiffy and smelling like the cologne gauntlet at a highbrow department store. She often wondered if he was really a mannequin that came alive at dawn.
So far, mornings at the Phoenix seemed the closest Belle had ever been to war—thanks to tardy diners, fussy eaters, early check-ins, and the endless rotation of drop-ins who riled Beast up and poked all of Nathan’s buttons. There was the postman, the produce guy, the meat and dairy girl, and the more-than-occasional solicitor (or reporter posing as one). The one thing Belle could say for Nathan was that he was an equal opportunity curmudgeon and a fantastic buffer. From Girl Scout to vegan to cosmic prophet, he detested them all. Somehow, however, he delivered his jabs in a way that left most of them grinning, shrugging, or chuckling at his wry sense of humor. Belle, whom he seemed to detest slightly less than the others, found it all quite amusing.