Page 20 of Stolen Magic (All That Glitters #2)
Magic tingled faintly along my skin as he led me deeper into the garden. At its center, a pool glimmered beneath the lantern light, ringed by flowerbeds bursting with pale, moon-kissed blooms.
“Snow blossoms,” I whispered reverently.
The flowers were native to my homeland, another favorite the princess must have shared with the prince in one of her letters.
Panic momentarily flared as I wondered what other intimate details she had revealed; whatever information His Highness possessed about my disguise that I didn’t left more chances I could potentially slip up.
“I thought you might miss them,” he said softly. “I know how strange it must be, leaving everything familiar behind.”
Emotion clogged my throat as my gaze lingered on the blossoms, their pale azure petals cupped like chalices gathering the moonlight. Mother used to weave them into my braids during festival days.
The memory struck with aching clarity. I turned away, schooling my expression into something neutral, but my chest ached with the weight of it.
Though the gesture was meant for the girl whose life I had borrowed, somehow it pierced through the shield I’d so carefully erected.
I couldn’t afford for kindness to affect me… and yet it had.
“You’re…very thoughtful, Your Highness.” I spoke carefully, forcing back the emotion rising in my throat.
He smiled—not the polished, court-trained mask I’d seen him wear while interacting with the court, but something softer, more real. “Just Callan, please.”
I hesitated. It felt far too soon for such familiarity. A handful of letters and this only being our supposed second meeting did not make us close. “Prince Callan?—”
“Just Callan,” he repeated gently. “And…might I call you Gwendolyn?”
I sighed inwardly. “Just Gwen is fine.” I offered the name reluctantly. As uncomfortable as it made me, allowing this liberty was essential; refusing his request would only draw suspicion. Without the illusion of trust, I had no hope of obtaining the information I coveted.
“ Gwen .” He spoke the nickname with the reverence as if I’d just offered a gift. By the endearing way the corner of his mouth lifted, he clearly liked the progress the intimate address signified. For a moment, I wondered what it would sound like to hear him speak my name— Lysa .
The thought caused a twinge of regret that I would never find out, a dangerous desire I immediately suppressed.
I couldn’t afford to fantasize about impossibilities, let alone crave intimacy from the man I intended to betray.
Contrary to what he’d undoubtedly allowed himself to believe, there was no romance in my concession, nor even tenderness in the gesture.
The name I’d given him permission to use wasn’t mine; the familiarity it suggested belonged to someone else entirely who, unlike me, would have actually welcomed it.
It was strange to hear him speak a nickname I’d never once used for the princess myself.
I had avoided it on purpose, fearing that allowing myself that liberty would have made it more difficult to reject the friendship she offered.
In the end, her kindness had found its way past my defenses anyway.
I refused to make the same mistake with the man I was determined to betray.
If only this outing would end so I could finally be alone and recalibrate my strategy, but Prince Callan seemed determined to stretch the evening as long as possible.
We walked in silence for a time, the path winding past flowering trees and a still pool bathed in moonlight.
I kept waiting for him to ask something political, to prod for opinions, to test me…
yet the questions never came, as if he wanted nothing from me… other than my company.
He paused, gesturing to a cluster of white-flowered shrubs blooming near the fountain. “I had these brought in from your kingdom too. They were surprisingly difficult to keep alive in Eldorian soil, but any challenge is worth it if it pleases you.”
The flowers seemed far too fragile and out of place in such a kingdom as Eldoria…just like me. I brushed my fingers gently over one of the petals, careful not to bruise its softness. “They’re called snow blossoms,” I murmured. “They only bloom under moonlight.”
Prince Callan smiled, though his gaze was on me rather than the flowers. “Then it’s fitting they’re here tonight.”
I stiffened at his obvious flirtation and cast him a sidelong glance, uncertain how to interpret the softness in his gaze. A compliment…or a ploy? I couldn’t tell. All I knew was that everything about him felt too gentle to be sincere…and that made me uneasy.
“For all their beauty, they don’t belong here,” I said.
“Whether they do or not, this is where they’ve been planted. I hope they thrive.” His tone made me suspect he spoke of more than flowers. I hastily turned back to the delicate petals, not trusting myself to respond.
I hoped this would be end of this strange, disorienting exchange that seemed to be rapidly slipping well beyond my careful control when Prince Callan turned to me again with another of his disarming smiles.
“I have something else for you.” He reached into the inner fold of his cloak and withdrew a wooden pendant, simpler than the royal jewelry he’d already gifted the princess.
“I know I already gave you a gift at our first meeting, but after getting to know you better through your letters, I wanted to craft something more personal, something that felt…more like you.”
Which letters? The ones Princess Gwendolyn had exchanged with him…or my manipulative own to extract every useful scrap of information possible?
But I had little time to wonder. He reached for my hand and allowed the necklace to fall in a coil onto my palm, our fingers brushing briefly—a small, involuntary touch.
Something warm twisted sharply in my chest as I lifted the necklace for a closer look: a fleur-de-lis—the crest of my homeland—subtle and elegant, carved with care.
He shifted slightly, seeming a touch shy. “I carved it myself. I wanted you to have something that reminds you of your heritage, not just your new life.”
“Thank you,” I murmured. “It’s beautiful.” And for the first time all day, the words didn’t feel scripted…which only made them all the more dangerous.
He seemed sincerely pleased I liked his gift—his smile was gentle and unguarded, the kind that threatened to make me forget this was all a lie. “May I put it on for you?”
I stiffened instinctively. The thought of his closeness unsettled me, but I forced a nod.
He stepped behind me and warmth flooded the space between us, so comforting I felt suddenly unsteady.
My breath caught when his fingers brushed the back of my neck as he secured the clasp; an involuntary shiver rippled through me before I could stop it.
“I know all of this is new for both of us,” he said gently. “But I want you to know you can rely on me. Whatever comes, we’ll face it together.”
I said nothing. I couldn’t. I reminded myself this was likely just another calculated move—to lower my guard and win favor—but that didn’t make it any less effective.
I held my breath the entire time he lingered behind me, the pendant resting heavy against my chest. The torturous moment seemed to last forever before he finally stepped away, allowing me to breathe again.
His gaze found mine, steady and earnest. “But I’d like to try. I want to be more than just your husband in name.”
I had no response prepared for that. My tongue felt thick with truths I could never speak. I looked away, feigning interest in a bloom trailing along the arbor. My hand shook slightly as it closed around the pendant and I forced a smile—soft and practiced. “That’s very gracious of you.”
He laughed. “ Gracious? You sound like you’re quoting a letter. There’s no need for formalities, Gwen. Not with me.”
I forced myself to meet his eyes—and for the first time, I truly looked at him.
At the sincerity etched into his expression, at the quiet hope flickering behind his gaze.
And in that moment, the spell I had cast—one meant to deceive—felt as though it had turned its edge inward, slicing cleanly through the armor forged around my heart.
He didn’t know how cruelly ironic his words were…nor did he realize just who he was offering his kindness to.