by Laura Kenyon
An instinctive smile bloomed across Dawn’s face as her daughter nestled into her. She breathed in the moment, recalling how it felt to sway dance with her as a baby. And how she’d stop crying the instant mommy picked her up in her arms. And how chubby and soft her little limbs were against her chest.
She may not have intended this to be her life, but even Davin couldn’t reverse what it had become.
“Now, you must not talk about this anymore—to anyone,” she said, tucking Morning back beneath her covers. “I’ll tell Day that you were right. But nobody likes a sore winner, remember? So mum’s the word.”
She nodded with resolve and closed her eyes.
After shutting off Morning’s light, Dawn stood outside Day’s room for fifteen minutes before gathering the courage to go inside. He’d fallen asleep cuddling with an action figure of Ivan Uvanski, this year’s Carpale Canaries most valuable player.
“Hey baby,” she whispered while releasing the toy and placing it on his nightstand.
Day nestled deeper into his pillow, but showed no intention of actually waking up.
“Day?” she repeated, smoothing her hand across his cheek.
“Mmmhmm,” he murmured, not opening his eyes.
“I just want you to know I love you. And I am not going anywhere, okay?”
“ImmHmmmknow.”
“And no man is going to take me from you and your sister.” No matter how spectacular he is, she thought.
“Mmmhhmm. Love-oo-toooo.”
“Okay baby. Good talk.” Pushing a few matted curls from his forehead, Dawn nestled her chin over her son’s cheek and thought about what she’d just said. How much of it was true and how much was just her way of assuring her children that they’d always have a loving mother… and they’d always have a loving father… even if it wasn’t at the same time?
When she finally returned to their bedroom, Hunter was standing on the balcony, staring up at the stars. He didn’t turn around when she opened the slider, but she noticed his shoulders clench from behind.
“Thank you for being such a wonderful hostess tonight,” he said, his eyes trained on the sky. “I’m sorry I sprung that deal on you out of the blue. It was a last-minute development and I couldn’t let the opportunity slip by.”
Dawn eyed him with a combination of distrust and awe. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d apologized to her. Dissatisfied clients and shortchanged investors, sure, but not to her. He’d changed out of his dinner clothes—but into sweatpants rather than his sleeping shorts. Was he staying up to do paperwork?
“Is this really a good move for the company?” she asked, wishing she knew enough to talk him out of the merger. While the thought of seeing Davin out in the open was amazing, it was also exceptionally dangerous—for several reasons.
“Dawn.” She wrapped her palm around the railing as he turned toward her—just in case he was planning to push her over the side. Instead, he ran his fingers gently down her arm. Then he picked up both her hands and cupped them between his. She could do nothing but stare back and listen. “I know I’m a hard man to love sometimes. I’ve never been good at passionate gestures or romantic words. But you mean more to me than anything in the entire world.”
Dawn smiled, though she couldn’t believe him. A lot of things meant more to him than she did: money, power, prestige. He loved being or having the superlative in everything. The world’s only 328-year-old monarch was just another checkmark on his list.
“I know you don’t believe me,” he continued. “And that’s my fault. But I’ve wanted to give you everything ever since I saw you asleep on that bed, wearing clothes even my grandmother would have called dowdy.” Dawn smirked and stared at her feet. “Did I ever mention you were snoring?”
“I was not!” She went to jerk away, but he held her tight.
“I know losing your home wasn’t easy.” Now she really wanted to pull away. Selladóre wasn’t something they spoke about. It never went well. “And I know you won’t believe me, but it’s the reason I’ve been so obsessed with work. I wanted to give you a piece of every kingdom I could get my hands on. I hoped it would fill the hole I couldn’t. But I neglected you in the process, and I’m so, so sorry about that. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately and … especially with everything that’s been going on … Well, what I’m trying to say is, I’ve been seeing things a lot more clearly.”
Dawn spread her feet a little, distributing her weight in case she had to defend herself. What exactly was he seeing more clearly? That her midnight strolls were questionable? That she and his new business partner had played footsie right under his nose?
“This partnership is the first step in changing that. By giving up half my stake in Tirion Enterprises—”
“Half?!”
Hunter loosened his grip as he nodded. “This whole time, I thought I was doing all this work for my family. I thought if I could build the company up enough, I could leverage it to get you back your kingdom.”
Dawn had no idea what to think. He’d never said anything like this before. Was it real or was he playing at something?
“I never told you because at first I thought it would be easy. Then I was ashamed that it wasn’t working. Then … well, when you’re sprinting for something and don’t know when the finish line will come, you can pass mountains of gold and never realize they were there. That’s what happened to me. I became consumed with the finish line—for you, but still. All I really did was waste years I should have spent growing closer to you. I just hope it’s not too late.”
Dawn felt smaller than the pinky that was twitching between her husband’s palms. He’d never opened up to her like this before. Even if what he said was true—that all the long hours and obsessive land grabbing had been for her—he’d neglected her more than she cared to admit. But he was cracking open a window here. The question now: did she want to peek in.
“I don’t like being alone all the time,” she said, pushing out the words like evil spirits. It felt good to expel them. “I feel like we’re strangers living in the same castle and raising a pair of kids. I feel like I never really had the chance to understand the life I’m part of now, and I don’t know who I am inside of it.”
Hunter nodded and swept his arms around her, nestling her head into his shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I should have realized. I never should have let this job control me, or let you spend all night wandering the forest alone.”
Dawn tried to steady a tornado of emotions. Was he trying to tell her he knew? Would she ever get to see Davin’s estate again? Was he going to demand she spend her evenings under lock and key?
“I don’t care if I turn into a zombie,” he said. “I should be spending that time with you.”
Her head almost knocked back in surprise. “Really? But you have to sleep. You’re the normal one.”
“Well,” he said with a smirk. “Relatively speaking.”
They shared a laugh. Then an awkward silence.
“There’s one more thing,” he said, pausing to take a deep breath. “I just need you to know, since the Mirror seems to be hunting down royals lately, that I would never cheat on you. This family means everything to me.”
Her voice was as small as she felt at the moment. “I know.”
“Good. Now what do you say we get some popcorn and pull an all-nighter?” he asked, suddenly filling with color and energy before her eyes. “We can catch up on that show you like, Palace Curbs, or Appealing Palaces, or—”
“Palace Appeal.”
“Right. I’ll tape my eyelids open if I have to.”
Dawn knew Davin would be waiting for her, terrified that their last words had driven a stake between them. But what could she do? If she turned Hunter down in favor of wandering through the woods, he’d either insist on coming or he’d realize something wasn’t right.
But wouldn’t he have to know eventually? Or did she, as Davin had feared, plan on sneaking around forever? And
what about Morning and Day? Even if she could choose between these two men, it all changed when her children entered the equation.
“That sounds nice,” she said, nuzzling between Hunter’s chin and the soft collar of his fleece. She didn’t have to decide right away.
Chapter Sixteen
BELLE
A week had come and gone, and Gray’s car still wasn’t ready. He’d been haunting the Phoenix for eleven days now, and Belle was getting disturbingly used to it.
As much as she tried to deny it, she’d come to expect him waltzing into the kitchen every morning, picking on whatever the guests hadn’t eaten, and saying something to tick off Nathan. When things went wrong with the plumbing, her immediate reaction was no longer to wait for a professional, but to summon the man in the cabin. And after his turkey stew, she couldn’t just fix her own dinner without at least as asking if he’d like to join. That would have been rude—as rude as not asking him back a second time, and a third. After all, it would be silly for both of them to waste time cooking for one.
She knew it was dangerous—to be exchanging jokes and smiles in the daylight and conversing over beef stroganoff at night. But it made her happy. And he was just an employee. The guests knew this. Belle had done all she could to ensure that he was a harmless fixture of the inn—like Nathan’s attitude or Angus Kane’s painting in the lounge—rather than a fixture of the estranged quasi-queen who lived there.
Even if she wanted him to be more than that, it was impossible because, fundamentally, nothing had changed. Ruby’s prediction hadn’t been disproved. Donner’s threat was still looming. She and Rapunzel hadn’t struck oil in the back yard. None of the hooks pulling her back to her old, miserable life had gone away; she’d just pushed them into the background for a bit. For reasons she couldn’t justify and didn’t want to explain, she had numbed the emotions that made her look too deeply at life. She now saw it the way a heartbroken teenager would see an abandoned box of chocolates: Her brain understood it was unhealthy, but none of her other parts wanted to listen.
On this particular morning, she’d woken up to the sun streaming through her curtains and casting a warm, tangerine glow over the room. She rolled out of bed, took a quick shower, slathered lotion across her stretching belly, and hurried out with a wet bun spun atop her head. The guests wouldn’t be up for another hour, and she saw no point in making herself extraordinarily pretty for a man she shouldn’t have feelings for in the first place. The tinted lip balm and pat of rogue were purely for her own enjoyment.
Floating into the kitchen, she swooped up the extra large frying pan and yanked open the refrigerator door. Wednesday mornings called for an assortment of gourmet crepes. And though the breakfast menu alone wasn’t going to make the Phoenix a must-stay tourist destination, she believed it was the sort of nicety that might encourage repeat guests. Plus, she enjoyed it. She’d missed it while living with Donner.
Belle fiddled around for a few minutes—grabbing flour, eggs, cinnamon, syrup—before realizing the light inside the refrigerator was off. The clock on the stove was black. The butter was soft. Without wasting a second, she piled all vital ingredients into her arms and punted the door shut. The entire refrigerator shuddered.
“Easy there, tiger. Haven’t we learned that people get hurt when you kick things?”
Gray was standing in the doorway holding a bunch of freshly cut sunflowers and a power drill. He was wearing his light-colored jeans this time (he only had two pairs), and an olive green t-shirt. She stared at the bouquet.
“Noticed the vase in the dining room was empty, and these were going to die soon anyway.” He looked around the kitchen. “Did we trip a breaker?”
It took Belle two seconds to see that all electrical connections were fine, ten minutes to find out what had actually gone wrong, and an eternity for the news to sink in.
“I’m sorry, but the bank account we have designated for automatic withdrawal came back with insufficient funds.” The employee’s words played over and over again in her head. “We had no choice but to put a freeze on it until the payment is satisfied. Would you like to give us the new account now?”
Belle shook her head. She told him that this was completely unacceptable. She had a business to run. Her guests expected heat and lights. And even if her account was dry (which her records clearly stated was not the case), don’t they give a warning first? A grace period? Were they going to reimburse her when all her food spoiled and the customers demanded refunds?
“Mmmhmm. My records show that you were notified after you missed the last payment—your first payment, from the looks of it. Tsk. Tsk.” Belle shook her head again, but the nasally employee couldn’t see her. She didn’t trust her temper enough for a screen-to-screen chat. “I see here that two notifications went out, actually. To a Braddax Castle, 34 Highview Place, Braddax Kingdom in the United Kingdoms of Marestam. Is that not the correct address?”
Belle balled her hand into a fist and did a little angry dance on the carpet. “That’s my ex … er, my husband … estranged.” She took a heavy breath and tried to regain her composure. “I’ll wire you the money today with my new address. Just please, turn the electricity on.”
“Sure thing,” the employee chirped. “I have my finger on the button as we speak. You’ll be back in business soon as your payment arrives.”
Gray and Nathan tried for half an hour to talk Belle down from her ledge. Donner, it turned out, had emptied her personal account—or what she’d thought was her personal account—completely.
“Our records show your husband is custodian of those funds.” The bank’s words lit up bits of dull memories, one at a time, teasing her. Custodian. She’d opened the account just after they married. She’d felt bad spending money on things that—having recently been poor—felt frivolous, so he thought this would help. He’d surprised her with it. She’d always thought it was entirely in her name. Well, to be brutally honest, she’d never thought about it at all.
The heat rushed to her face so fast and with such force that all she heard was buzzing. The last time she felt this unhinged, she’d just found her sister’s red, lace panties beneath her husband’s bed. That night, she’d crashed into a tree, broken a million speeding laws, and tumbled out on Rapunzel’s doorstep begging for refuge. Last time, she’d grabbed the car keys and raced as far away from Donner as fast she could. This time, she was going to come careening towards him like a wild banshee on methamphetamines. She was going to tear him limb from limb.
She dropped the keys twice before finally crunching them into the metal slot and firing up the engine. Her hands shook and her vision was so blurred she didn’t even see Gray coming when she slammed it into reverse. He flung open the door and dove into the passenger seat just in time.
“Belle!”
“What are you doing?” Her voice might as well have been a scream.
“Belle, you need to—”
“You need to get out.”
“It’s only money. We’ll work it out.” He spoke as if she was doing calf stretches on a thirty-story ledge—slowly and with an absurdly syrupy tone. “Take a deep breath and come back inside. The guests are nice people; they’ll understand about the power.”
Belle took a huge breath and shot him a look. He jolted back slightly and then reached for his seatbelt.
“Fine,” he said. “Do what you need to do. But I’m coming.”
Belle begged him with her eyes to get out, but didn’t have the ability to stop and listen to reason. She was livid in a way only Donner could make her, and moderately afraid of what she might do if left alone. She gave him five more seconds to leave, and then smashed her foot to the floor.
* * *
The road to Braddax Castle was narrow and full of hairpin turns, but Belle pressed down until she felt the engine running as frantically and maniacally as her heart. She didn’t care. Her eyes were glued to the windshield but all she really saw was Donner. Donner and his dark, meaty, sinister face
.
When the jagged turrets finally came into view, she leaned her entire body into the horn and gunned it. She barely cleared the gate before it fully opened.
“Wait here,” she commanded, not even giving Gray a chance to protest. She tumbled out of the car and waddled—as fast as her water-retaining ankles could carry her—into the castle.
Donner was stretched on a black leather couch in the parlor, a glass of scotch by his knees and his arms spread over the pillows like wings.
“You have no right,” she shrieked, torpedoing around the room as he watched, head tilted in amusement, through a shower of dark chocolate curls. “That was my money!” His block chin rose a bit in understanding. “You think sabotaging me is going to bring me back?”
“Well,” he said, flipping his hands up. “You’re here, aren’t you?”
Belle jerked forward as if to smack the smile right off his face. She had no patience for games right now. She didn’t want to exchange any witty repartee. She was a human volcano, boiling with so much anger and desperation that—had she even one ounce of magical blood—she would make the entire room explode.
Still smiling, Donner patted the cushion next to him and suggested she sit down. “It’s not good for the baby to get this worked up. Though I do miss how cute you look when you’re angry.”
Belle stopped pacing and dug both legs straight into the floor. If she pressed any harder, her kneecaps might have popped off the wrong way. She hated him. She hated him, with his tanned skin, his perfect features, and his cozy zip-collar sweater that made him appear so suave. Had the universe any justice, people like him would be hideous. That must have been what the fairy was thinking when she cursed him all those years ago. Maybe Belle had brought this upon herself when she broke it. Maybe he was supposed to look like a monster forever.
Realizing she wasn’t going to budge, Donner pushed himself up from the couch and edged towards her. He moved slowly and kept both palms out, as if he was the prisoner this time and she was behaving like a beast.