Page 28 of Stolen Magic (All That Glitters #2)

B y the time I reached my chambers, my heart was pounding for reasons I didn’t fully understand.

Myst awaited me on the windowsill, her silver-tipped tail curled neatly around her paws.

As soon as I entered, she leapt soundlessly to the floor and padded towards me and brushed against my legs, her luminous eyes gleaming in a way that suggested she knew exactly what had transpired between me and the prince, as well as the confusion that lingered.

I bent to stroke her soft fur. “I know, I let him get too close.”

For once, Myst didn’t rebuke me. She merely pressed her head into my palm before curling up in my lap, her posture angled in silent invitation.

Grateful for the distraction, I let my fingers drift through her soft fur, the motion calming.

While I’d been immersed in the royal archives, she’d occupied herself with hunting in my stead.

I longed to search for my stolen magic myself, but after being caught once already, I didn’t dare risk it again…

especially with my resolve so frayed I could barely admit how much I feared losing the prince’s good opinion.

A hypocritical wish, considering everything.

If I succeeded in my quest—or even if I failed—Prince Callan would eventually find out the truth and could only despise me.

“Any luck?” I asked.

Myst’s tail flicked once, swishing against my lap. “No magic, at least not in the palace. Not today.”

I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath until I released my pent-up exhale of disappointment. Whatever progress I’d made from the information I’d uncovered in the archives had been undone by the prince’s words, and this news only pushed me further back.

“But…” Myst added, her ears flicking towards the window, “I did notice something strange in the meadow beyond the stables west of the castle.”

I mentally examined the map of the Eldorian palace I’d studied for hours in preparation, tracing the route from my bedroom to the field in question. “The goose field?” What could possibly be located there?

She nodded. “It isn’t magic, but it’s undoubtedly something you should be aware of.”

My pulse quickened. “A trap?”

“More like…a complication .”

That was the last thing I needed, considering my hands were already full with too many unraveling threads, but the path to revenge was never meant to be smooth.

By Myst’s vagueness, I knew my familiar meant for me to seek this answer myself. I welcomed the distraction my investigation would provide, anything to escape these walls…and the prince whose presence had become far more dangerous than I’d anticipated.

We slipped out through one of the lesser-used doors leading to the garden—Myst darting ahead in shadow while I moved silently along the hedge-lined paths. Behind us, the castle’s glow in the fading light of late afternoon receded as the land sloped into open meadow dotted with grazing geese.

The seal branding my hand burned faintly as I searched the tranquil landscape for what Myst might have discovered, but I sensed no pulse of magic nor did I detect anything unusual, only the whisper of wind and the distant honk of geese.

I glanced down at the silver cat, wondering what I had missed, but she silently trotted ahead, holding her counsel.

When we’d reached the meadow’s edge, Myst paused suddenly, seating herself in a patch of daisies. Her quiet voice cut through my concentration. “There.”

I slowed, squinting through the slanting light that was beginning to cast the long shadows of evening.

My breath caught upon seeing the familiar form moving with graceful motions I’d spent hours studying…

and imitating. My heart thudded with disbelief and for a breathless, frozen moment, the world tilted.

There, not twenty paces away, was the girl whose life I now wore like a borrowed gown that didn’t quite fit.

It was like seeing a ghost: golden hair tangled by the wind framing a face that still carried that soft, characteristic smile that haunted my dreams. She wore a simple bodice and apron, worn from fieldwork, a visual reminder of her altered status, a casualty of my actions against her.

She knelt beside the geese, coaxing them gently towards a small, makeshift pen at the edge of the field.

She smiled as she tended them, as if she’d forgotten who she was… or worse, as if it no longer mattered.

My knees weakened. “Gwen…” I breathed, barely audible.

Though too far to hear me, she turned slightly at the sound, but wasn’t close enough for me to see whether she’d noticed me or if there was recognition in her eyes.

Her profile alone was enough to shatter the illusion I’d crafted around my stolen peace.

I wanted to believe I was imagining her, but deep down I knew it was her.

While I felt a flood of relief to see that she was alive, that emotion was overshadowed by my horror at discovering her here , at the palace housing the last man I wanted to discover the truth.

All the days I’d spent numbing the guilt—all the justifications I’d built like a fortress around my conscience—crumbled.

Despite her being nothing but kind to me, I had stolen everything.

Callously I’d stripped of her name, her future, and left her behind to fend for herself in a strange town while I slipped into the place that should have been hers.

Dozens of questions collided in my mind, each louder than the last. How had she found her way here?

Had the spell worn off? Had her memories returned…

or had they never vanished at all? Had she followed me, waiting for the right moment to reclaim what I’d taken?

And the one that chilled me the most: what was I going to do now?

I didn’t have any answers. I stood motionless, too stunned to think. I could only stare. “I didn’t think I’d ever see her again,” I murmured, fighting nausea at the sight of the woman I’d hoped I’d never have to face.

Myst remained silent, but I felt the weight of her unspoken question in her piercing gaze asking me what I intended to do with this unexpected discovery that went well beyond a mere complication .

I wasn’t ready for this. I hadn’t planned for the possibility of the true princess finding her way to the Eldorian palace with her tampered memory.

Nor had I prepared sufficient fortifications for the emotions that assaulted me at the sight of her—the guilt for my crime, the grief over what could have been, and the unshakable growing fear of her reclaiming her place.

If my spell had failed and she remembered the truth…then everything I had schemed and sacrificed would come crashing down.

To my surprised horror, the first loss I thought of wasn’t my power, or even vengeance…

but of Prince Callan. His soft words, his tender smile, his presence that warmed the chill I’d carried for so long.

Even though he had never been mine, in this moment when my fragile lie threatened to collapse he was still the first thing I thought of…

and that terrified me more than anything else.

The most logical course would be to retreat before she noticed me, but I couldn’t move, paralyzed by the very worry that had plagued me since the day I’d spelled her.

My thoughts drifted back to that moment in the inn where she’d lain unconscious, her expression peaceful despite the crime I had just committed.

I had knelt beside her for longer than I’d meant to, whispering apologies she would never hear.

She had smiled more than usual that day, laughing softly at the stories I told of my homeland—a tapestry of half-truths and convenient lies. She had trusted me…until I irrevocably shattered it, permanently destroying our relationship.

Despite all my valiant attempts to stop thinking about her, she’d haunted me every hour of my impersonation since. My royal duties offered distraction during the day, but at night worry had often kept me awake, tormenting me with the impractical, dangerous temptation to return and check on her.

In the end my selfishness couldn’t risk forfeiting the one chance I had for revenge.

I had chosen my path. I could only pray that what I’d left her with had been enough and she would be alright; despite my determination to continue, I would never forgive myself if anything happened to her…

a fate made worse when I would be solely to blame.

I remained half-concealed in the copse of trees along the meadow’s edge, suspended somewhere between disbelief and dread. Gwen knelt to adjust the geese’s enclosure, moving with ease and quiet purpose, seeming unaware she was being watched…but I knew she had seen me.

What I didn’t know was if she’d recognized me. Part of me still questioned if it could truly be her or just some farm girl with a familiar face, a cruel vision conjured by my guilty conscience. I needed to be sure.

I inched closer, keeping to the shadows.

Even in her servant’s attire, her expressions and mannerisms were those of a princess, little details that I’d become intimately familiar with during my time in her service.

She whispered something to one of the geese, her voice too soft for me to hear.

The bird waddled away with an indignant honk, and she laughed—an unguarded sound that pierced the wall I’d built around my heart, leaving no mistake as to her true identity.

Rather than the distress I’d been imagining, she didn’t look angry, afraid, or even like someone plotting revenge.

She simply looked… free . No court pressure, no lies or stolen titles, no vengeance straining every breath.

Just her in a field of geese. For one flickering, shameful moment, I envied her.