Page 30 of Stolen Magic (All That Glitters #2)

F or a horrific moment time stood still as Prince Callan looked back and forth between us, his attention lingering on the goose girl who, unbeknownst to him, was the fiancée he had met once before.

Inexplicable panic seized me as I waited with bated breath for the spark of clarity in his gaze, for the moment he would say her name and realize that the girl who had first smiled at him across banquet tables and walked beside him through the palace gardens wasn’t the one he currently courted…

but instead the one he had first been promised, causing his altered memory to unravel, just as Gwen’s had.

I felt sickened by the thought, feelings that extended beyond my initial purpose in infiltrating the palace.

Somehow in only a few short days of quiet conversations, almost-smiles, and tender looks, my hunger for revenge had become tangled with something warmer and softer that I hadn’t meant to let bloom.

Despite my repeated reminders that my enemy’s kindness was nothing more than a weapon in disguise, seeing Prince Callan so close to the revelation of my deception filled me with fear for my plan for reasons that had nothing to do with my desires to reclaim my magic.

I didn’t want to be discovered, not like this. I should have only been afraid of losing my chance to reclaim my power and the stolen crown I was inching towards with every breath; only now did I realize that something unexpected and far more dangerous had taken root: the fear of losing him .

At first the prince’s expression remained blank, almost confused. Slowly the dawn of familiarity settled across his furrowed expression—not recognition, but the flicker of it, like grasping at a half-remembered echo of a dream you can’t quite place, but know you’ve had before.

A shadow of uncertainty crossed his face as his gaze shifted to me; I could almost see him grappling with his forgotten memory. I fought to keep my expression composed, though my heart pounded so fiercely I was sure he could hear it.

I’d been so focused on him I hadn’t given any thought to the princess, standing frozen by the stream. Whatever cloud had once dulled her gaze had vanished the moment she noticed the prince, subtle but unmistakable, like a veil lifting.

The silence between us stretched, heavy with unspoken truths and the weight of too many fractured memories teetering on the brink of recognition.

Her brow furrowed as the remaining remnants of the memory charm weakened, causing the fog engulfing her mind to thin just enough to recognize the man she’d been promised to.

The fading sunlight cast a soft sheen across the meadow, bathing Princess Gwendolyn in gold as she took an uncertain step forward, her eyes fixed on Prince Callan. “I know you,” she said, her voice quiet but sure, like someone trying to reach a suppressed memory. “Do you recognize me?”

Silence followed, taut and brittle, the pounding in my chest drowning out everything else.

Every inch of me was frozen as I watched him, bracing for the moment recognition would destroy the fragile lie I’d constructed.

I could feel the truth closing in from both sides—his doubt, her rising clarity—the weight of everything I’d done tilting towards collapse beneath us.

If either of them remembered too much, too soon… it would all be over.

Prince Callan hesitated before finally shaking his head. “Forgive me, but there are too many servants for me to remember them all.”

Strange, inexplicable relief surged through me deeper than a simple reprieve that allowed me to continue my plot—as weak as my magic had been when I’d cast the memory charm, for now it still held.

But his single denial wasn’t enough to dissuade Princess Gwendolyn. “You do know me,” she declared, voice trembling but insistent. “Don’t you?”

Rather than another immediate denial, this time he hesitated. His brow furrowed as he studied her, too long and too intently for someone who claimed no familiarity. His head tilted slightly, gaze narrowing, as if something about her tugged at a memory just beneath the surface.

Princess Gwendolyn advanced another step. “I know it sounds strange, but even if I don’t quite remember everything, I know we share a connection. You gave me a pressed flower.”

Prince Callan’s brow furrowed. “A flower…”

My heart clenched as I noticed the subtle flicker in his expression, the beginnings of a memory that, thanks to my spell, should have been sealed away.

She nodded, eyes shining. “You said it reminded you of me. I don’t remember all the details from our conversation, only that you apologized…I think for the circumstances of our meeting, and that you hoped we could at least be friends.”

His eyes widened at this vague reference and my breath caught. I hadn’t heard the princess mention anything about a pressed flower, but I had a sinking feeling that it was an accurate detail I hadn’t planned for, one which was now proving to be my undoing.

“It wasn’t just the flower,” she continued, more urgently. “You also gave me a pendant shaped like a heart.” Her hand lifted instinctively to her throat where it had once rested, but her fingers closed on empty air. She frowned. “It’s gone now, but I’m certain it was real.”

Without thinking, my hand flew to my own neck to the very pendant he’d given her that I now wore, as if the futile gesture could shield it.

Prince Callan’s gaze followed the motion. For a breath, the truth nearly reached him…but then, like a wavering flame snuffed by unseen wind, the recognition faded. Confusion once more dimmed whatever clarity had nearly emerged.

“I…I’m sorry,” he said at last. “I don’t know you. You must be mistaking me for someone else.” But his voice was no longer sure—uncertainty tainted his voice, a tremor of doubt, as if he didn’t quite believe his own claim.

“You truly don’t remember?” Princess Gwendolyn stood there, eyes wide with disbelief and helplessness. Her hands trembled as she clutched the folds of her servant’s dress like an anchor as her gaze slid from him…to me. I saw the moment several previously missing pieces snapped into place.

Her confusion narrowed into fury. “ You. ” Her words were a whisper, but the accusation struck like a shout. “You did something to him, just like you did to me. You spelled him…to take my place.”

I arched an eyebrow. “ Spelled him? Are you claiming I’m a witch?” I kept my voice low enough so that the prince couldn’t overhear. In a kingdom as power-hungry and fearful as Eldoria, being outed as a magic-wielder was far more dangerous than being exposed as an imposter .

Princess Gwendolyn faltered. Even with her altered memory, she hadn’t forgotten how rare and nearly extinct magic users were. “I—” Her brow furrowed, and I could almost see her struggle to unearth the full details of the curse I’d cast upon her that wasn’t entirely gone.

Prince Callan turned slightly towards me, his expression puzzled. “What is she talking about?”

I opened my mouth for an explanation, but for the first time in days, no lie came readily to my lips as I glanced between the two people I was hurting with my deception, two people who had always treated me with kindness despite my expectations of royals.

My thoughts stuttered, tangled in the very web I had spun and now found myself ensnared in.

Beside me, Myst flicked her tail in silent warning.

I could feel the sharp, cold edge of panic scraping against my resolve.

I forced a steadying breath in an effort to summon my composure as I stepped forward and slid my hand in his.

In my avoidance to getting too close to him, other than the occasional brush of contact when he escorted me, this was the first time I’d reached for him voluntarily.

He startled and looked down at our connected hold. The gesture had been meant to distract him—to redirect his attention from the princess before her presence unearthed whatever patches of his memory the spell hadn’t managed to erase.

I hadn’t expected the startling emotions touching him invoked. I’d expected revulsion from the sensation of his hand enfolding mine, but instead it felt warm, steady, even comforting…creating a sense of belonging I hadn’t felt since Mother had died.

I wanted to remain in this moment free from pretending, just for a breath—to savor this tenderness and feel something real before I tainted it again with lies.

But if I wanted to capture more than a single stolen heartbeat, I needed to do all within my power to convince the prince not to heed to the falters in his recollection magic alone couldn’t repair.

“This poor servant seems confused,” I said, forcing calm even as I felt a stab of pain from my continued betrayal. “Perhaps her hardships have caused her to cling to a fantasy.”

That gave him pause. His gaze shifted between us, doubt etched into every line of his face.

I softened my voice further, tone coaxing.

“Even if most of our connection came through letters, you’ve known me for months and shared many memories with me.

I am your fiancée.” I leaned in, just enough for the words to brush his ear.

His breath hooked but he didn’t pull away.

“Please don’t let her confusion take something precious from us. ”

He didn’t respond, simply stood there, caught between us, lost in his confusion as her words pulled at the threads I’d woven from my limited magic, causing my grip on his memory to slip as the spell weakened. Yet his hand lingered in mine, not squeezing back…though he didn’t let go either.

I tugged on his hand, forcing my voice to remain steady. “Let’s go, Callan.”