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Martine wasn’t the only guard standing outside of Dagmara’s chamber that morning. A young guard was standing before Martine, holding a small white box. Dagmara immediately recognized the young guard as Pierre. The two guards both whipped their heads to Dagmara, straightening their posture as if they had been caught in an uncompromising position.

“Good morning,” Dagmara said, her gaze shifting between the two of them, curiosity gnawing inside her.

Pierre cleared his throat. “His Majesty has asked me to escort you both to the stables,” the guard said. “I also brought this for…” his voice ran dry as his gaze lingered on Martine, his grip tightening on the small box. “For…Your Highness!” he blurted out, extending his hand rigidly toward Dagmara. “Caramel squares!”

Dagmara’s eyes narrowed, a smirk subtly creasing on her face. “I am fine with you giving Martine a gift,” she said, amused. Pierre was easily five years younger than Martine.

Martine’s face turned red. “I cannot keep the box on my person, and I don’t have time to return to my chamber,” she paused, “as I already explained to Pierre.”

“Then we shall keep them here until we return,” Dagmara stated. She took the small box from Pierre’s grasp, peeking a glance inside at the misshapen caramel squares, and reentered her room. She gave them to Urszula, who had heard the whole conversation, and then exited her room once more.

“Pierre is your name?” Dagmara asked.

The boy’s face twitched as if it were a trick question. “P-Pierre Candide, yes, Your Highness.”

“Nice to officially meet you, I’m Magdalena.”

He gave her a smile and an awkward bow.

Martine said nothing, but gave Pierre a sheepish smile, which Dagmara certainly had never seen before. It made Dagmara grin seeing the two awkwardly interact.

“Shall we?” Dagmara announced, realizing the pair would stand together all day.

“Yes,” said Martine, finding her professionalism once more. Then she proceeded to lead the group to the stables.

The morning was breezy, and the flowers that peppered the front yard created a calming ambiance, but a false one at that. Dagmara remembered that the beauty of the castle was all Claude’s magic. He was leading a lie, falsely projecting wealth when he was as desperate as the rest of his kingdom.

Outside the stables was an entire entourage. Two carriages were ready to go, led by gorgeous stallions. One carriage was being loaded with crates, no doubt the food shipment. The other carriage, which could easily seat eight people, was left wide open, certainly for her and the king.

Madame Annette was barking orders at the servants. Meanwhile, Claude supervised silently, and he turned his attention to Dagmara as she approached.

The sunlight glistened against his skin, already coated with a thin shimmer of sweat. At least he was fully clothed today, but that didn’t make him any less attractive. In fact, there was something seductive about the regal attire he wore and knowing exactly the handsome physique that was concealed underneath.

His expression turned suspicious. Did he still blame her for the poisoned wine on the terrace? A few nights prior he had accused her, telling her the poison was smierc. It didn’t make any sense.

“Good morning,” Dagmara said. “I’m surprised a shipment arrived so quickly.”

“We all are,” Madame Annette said, doubt laced in her voice. She fired a glance at the king before returning to bark orders at the servants. They seemed to be on their last load.

Claude remained silent.

“We’re nearly ready to head out.” The baritone voice sent a shudder through Dagmara. She saw Sabien approach, his deep voice loud enough for all to hear. “If you are ready, Your Majesty?”

“Yes,” Claude said. Then he gestured toward the second carriage. “After you, Princess?”

Dagmara nodded before starting for the carriage. Sabien opened the carriage door for her before extending his hand to help her inside. She gave him a hesitant smile, remembering their kiss in the library, before taking his hand. His grip was firm, his thumb caressing her skin briefly enough so that no one else would notice, but it sent a chill down Dagmara’s spine.

“Glad to see your palm has healed,” he said, barely audible.

Her mind flashed to when he noticed the cut on her palm in the library, and it aroused suspicion that she didn’t have Life magic. She quickly withdrew and took a seat in the plush carriage.

Claude joined her in the carriage, sitting on her opposite side. He adjusted the sword at his belt so that he could sit comfortably. Pierre, Martine, and Claude’s other main guard joined them last. Before the door shut, Dagmara watched as Sabien started for the front of the entourage. There was no doubt he was accompanying them.

The carriage door closed, and Claude said:

“The shipment isn’t from Azurem. It’s from Celestaire.”

“What?” Dagmara’s expression flashed with surprise.