Page 23 of Stolen Magic (All That Glitters #2)

When I stumbled over an answer, offering a bland reply, my inattention grew too much for even his patience. “Gwen?”

The name yanked my attention back to him.

I startled, realizing too late that once again I’d missed whatever question he’d just asked.

I silently cursed, willing my frustration not to show on my face.

Though I understood how imperative remaining in his good graces was for my mission, my lost magic’s pull on my attention was too seductive to entirely ignore.

“Forgive me, could you please repeat that?” I winced. No polite phrasing could hide the truth: I hadn’t been listening. I scrambled to recover the thread of the conversation I’d dropped minutes ago, but it was gone.

When my silence extended too long, an unfamiliar emotion flickered across his face—something sharper than the quiet warmth he’d exhibited before.

He masked it quickly, but not before I saw it.

To my surprise, I was filled with the last emotion I ever expected to feel towards an Eldorian royal: guilt.

“I’m sorry.” Layers of meaning filled the apology beyond simply ignoring him, evidence of my remorse for my cold reception of his continued kindness that despite my earnest efforts my conscience couldn’t fully suppress.

“It’s alright.” But though he’d accepted my apology, this time the words sounded hollow and halfhearted, offered out of habit rather than sincerity. His gaze lingered, studying me as if his perusal could uncover the real reason for my distraction.

“You seem tired. Did you not sleep well?”

Though his tone had gentled, I detected a quiet desperation beneath his concern, as if he hoped my inattention was the result of fatigue rather than disinterest. Gratefully I latched onto the excuse.

“I’m afraid I didn’t,” I replied smoothly, touching my temple as though a weary headache pulsed. “With all the sudden changes, it was a long night.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I couldn’t sleep much either. My mind kept returning to yesterday—our reunion, the evening we spent together…and the future to come.”

He resumed speaking, picking up the thread of conversation I’d dropped during my lapse in attention.

But something had shifted—his earlier ease had disappeared, his words polite but practiced, distant.

His expression—once so soft and open, had grown careful and measured, guarded behind a princely facade, as if his heart was no longer in our interaction.

The contrast was jarring. I stared at him, momentarily stunned into forgetting the magic I sought.

All this time, I had convinced myself he had been performing—matching my own falsehoods with a courtly charade of his own.

But this polite stiffness felt like the act.

If that was true…then all those earlier moments—his tender words, his thoughtful questions, the warm sincerity in his eyes—hadn’t been a performance at all, but real .

The realization struck harder than anything I’d prepared for. Though I had stolen a crown and deceived an entire court, nothing had prepared me for the possibility that Prince Callan wasn’t playing the same game I was…which meant I was the only one wearing a mask.

My once ironclad resolve faltered beneath this unsettling possibility that shook me more than the weight of any of my crimes.

I had built my entire plan on the assumption that my enemy was an equal participant in my deceit, a skilled opponent that I looked forward to defeating.

But if that foundation crumbled...so did the justification I had clung to like armor, making everything far more complicated than it already was.

I needed space, time to think, to retreat and determine how to navigate these uncharted waters before I made an irrevocable mistake I couldn’t undo.

Muttering a vague excuse, I abruptly rose from the table and left him behind.

I didn’t dare look back, but I felt his disappointment all the same—like a weight pressing between my shoulders.

I hated running away, but worse still, even if I remained…

in this moment I had no idea who I was supposed to be if I turned back.

And that thought terrified me more than anything else.

Despite my desire to preserve my cover, I remained in my chambers for the remainder of the day, feigning exhaustion both times Prince Callan came to check on me.

I gave my excuses through the locked door, unable to bear seeing him again so soon.

Though I could avoid his face, I couldn’t escape the bouquet of violets he’d given me—their scent lingered in the air, a sweetness that had once meant home but now felt like a threat to my resolve.

Several times I started to move them out of my sitting room but couldn’t bring myself to throw them away.

As the sun slowly set and the light in my rooms dimmed, I found myself staring at the violets, awash in memories of my childhood, mingled with recollections of Prince Callan’s face as he handed them to me.

Such weakness was disadvantageous. I needed to refocus on the reason I’d infiltrated the royal court and track down the power that shimmered unseen, my first priority even over revenge…regardless of whether everything else fell apart.

As darkness fell, the bustle of activity gradually faded, until finally I no longer heard even the occasional footsteps of passing servants in the hallways. Drawing my cloak around my shoulders, I cautiously eased my door open and slipped out, followed by my silent feline shadow.

My mother’s magic was hidden somewhere in this palace, and it seemed likely that it was in the chambers of her murderer.

Unfortunately, the chambers of the courtiers and advisors were too heavily guarded for me to be able to sneak past, so I would have to find another way to infiltrate them. Instead I searched elsewhere.

The palace felt different beneath the veil of night.

The labyrinth of abandoned corridors stretched before me, sconces flickering low against the cold stone walls, shadows deep enough to swallow me whole.

They cloaked me as I crept through the silence, following the faint traces of power wherever I could sense them.

For the first time since I had usurped Princess Gwendolyn, I felt a sliver of who I used to be—the girl who moved through the forest like a breath of wind, wild magic humming through her veins.

The further I explored, the stronger the presence of magic became. I sensed it was close, stirring the air like a whisper just out of reach. I let instinct guide me, gliding soundlessly through a lesser-used corridor near the west wing.

From fragments of gossip I’d pieced together from overheard conversations between polished courtiers and loose-tongued servants, I’d learned of old vaults near the royal treasury—sealed since the war, now used as overflow for storage and forgotten treasures.

If Eldoria still hoarded the magic it had stolen, there was a chance it would be there.

Myst leapt soundlessly onto the sill beside me as I paused near a window in a shabby hall, her silver tail curling and swishing with quiet anticipation.

Her eyes met mine—steady, watchful, and far too knowing.

She had already searched the east wing earlier today, slipping through servant halls and forgotten chambers while I kept up my facade at court.

But her efforts had turned up nothing—no trace of hidden magic, no whisper of stolen power…which made this sealed-off wing all the more likely to hold what we were looking for.

Myst gave a soft chuff, as if confirming the unspoken conclusion between us, then flicked her ears forward and turned her gaze to the dark hallway ahead.

“You feel it too, don’t you?” I whispered.

Her pupils narrowed into slits. “It’s faint but it’s here, buried and bound.”

I stroked behind her soft ears. “Follow the trail to where it’s strongest, slipping past the wards if you can. I’ll continue searching this wing.”

Wordlessly she vanished into the dark, her paws making no sound against stone.

I pressed forward, careful to keep to the edges of the torchlight.

The closer I drew to the sealed door at the end of the corridor, the stronger the sensation of nearby power became—static humming beneath my skin, like a half-remembered memory I couldn’t quite recall.

The seal on my hand pulsed faintly, not in pain this time but in resonance, as if it recognized the magic woven within the ancient stones.

I reached the oak, iron-bound door. Faded runes carved across the arch glimmered faintly, dulled by time. My hand trembled in anticipation as it hovered over the latch.

“Princess?”

I froze. Prince Callan’s voice—soft, confused, and far too close. I wasn’t prepared to face him so soon, especially after he’d caught me in such a compromising position. I forced calm into my expression before slowly turning to face him.

He stood a few paces away, alone, a single lantern in hand casting flickering light across his face. His brow furrowed in quiet scrutiny, expression unreadable. “What are you doing down here?” he asked in a quiet, guarded voice.

“I couldn’t sleep.” At least that much was true.

“Even so, this part of the palace is off-limits.” An edge of suspicion tainted his usual gentleness. Though wariness was the emotion I had expected from him from the beginning, I missed the warmth from our earlier conversations that I had already grown accustomed to.

I forced a light, practiced laugh, trying to look sheepish.

“I got lost. There are so many wings—I must have turned wrong near the tapestry hall.” Though I had been lying to him from our first exchanged letter, this time felt different—because it was the first one I’d given when I wasn’t certain whether he had been lying to me in return.

He stepped closer, lifting the lantern to illuminate my tight and undoubtedly guilty expression.

He studied me a moment before shifting his gaze towards the locked door.

“This hasn’t been opened in years,” he said.

“Not even the servants use this passage. It’s sealed for good reason.

” His gaze returned to me, sharper now, too knowing.

“You weren’t trying to open it, were you? ”

Even though the accusation was wholly deserved, I still flinched. “I told you—I simply got turned around. I was hoping this passageway could lead back to familiar territory.”

A pause stretched between us. I held his gaze, daring him to challenge me.

He said nothing, but his eyes flicked to my hand—still hovering too close to the latch.

I quickly lowered it. Another long silence, but instead of pressing further, to my dismay Prince Callan let it go… or at least pretended to.

He exhaled slowly. “The fault is mine for failing to give you a proper tour of your new home.” His voice was softer now, tinged with weariness, as if he was just as exhausted by this masquerade as I was. “Come, I’ll walk you back to your room.”

A thousand refusals sprang to my lips. I didn’t want to linger in his presence with my thoughts still tangled and my questions unresolved.

But I had already avoided him most of the day; a second dismissal would only deepen his suspicions.

I offered a reluctant nod, slipping my hands behind my back as I fell into step beside him.

We walked in silence, our footsteps echoing faintly off the stone. It wasn’t until we neared my chambers that he finally spoke, so quietly I almost missed his words: “You don’t have to sneak around, you know.”

“I told you, I wasn’t—” My lie faltered when he turned to look at me fully, his deep blue eyes glistening with an emotion I couldn’t name.

“I’m not angry, Gwen.” He stepped closer, his voice dropping into something softer. “The palace is now your home. You can explore as you wish, ask questions, be curious.”

I hastily looked away, heat rising at the back of my neck. He was far too observant, one of many reasons I convinced myself to dislike him. But the hatred that once came easily took much longer to arrive, and when it eventually did, it was with far less fire than before.

Before I could even formulate an answer I didn’t have, we reached my door. He didn’t linger, just handed me the lantern with a polite nod. “Goodnight, Gwen.”

“Goodnight…Callan.”

I slipped inside before he could give me a reason to linger. I shut the door behind me and leaned against it, heart pounding. The seal on my hand still pulsed, a sign that somewhere in this palace my magic was waiting for me…but so was he, and I didn’t know which one would destroy me first.