Page 1 of The Gilded Fae (Royal Fae of Rose Briar Woods 2)

PROLOGUE

SABINE

The stage curtains are the color of the wine in Mother’s glass—a rich, deep scarlet I will forevermore associate with this night. Slowly, they draw back to reveal the performers who step forward for their final bow.

Though I clap politely, I’m applauding wildly on the inside. Never in my life have I seen a human theatrical performance.

It was magical. Not like my magic, which is true, bold, and powerful. This magic was subtle. It tugged at my heart and caught my breath. It told a story and ruthlessly held me captive until it was finished.

The group of players constructed the stage in a mere twelve hours. A large section of the courtyard was roped off during the day, and castle guards surveyed the men’s progress as they worked.

By dusk, the garden was filled with lantern light and music, and I was escorted in as the guest of honor.

“The happiest of birthdays to you, Your Highness,” the group’s prima donna says from the stage with a flourish of her hands. “We thank you for allowing us to share this day with you.”

I blush at the attention, ducking my head with a smile as every eye in the garden falls on me—every eye except my mother’s. The queen of West Faerie is sound asleep, resting her head upon her new husband’s shoulder.

It’s only because she recently married and is awash in what she claims is new love that she agreed to the performance. Temporarily content, she’s feeling generous. It won’t last long, but I don’t care because she allowed me to have the most beautiful sixteenth birthday I could dare imagine.

The curtains close once more, hiding the troupe and ending the show, and the audience begins to leave. Most spent the last few hours upon hard benches that were brought out for the performance, but I sit on a gilded settee with my family, in a place of honor elevated behind the rest.

Brahm, my older brother, and Regina, our cousin, are to my left. My younger brother stands behind us, silent as always. Drake wasn’t allowed a seat, not even a hard bench. I suppose he’s used to it by now, but it doesn’t make it right.

My heart still dancing, I turn around and try to ask him if he enjoyed the show, but his curse binds my tongue, making it impossible to speak the words. Frustration mars my euphoria, and anger as well. Mother is a spiteful woman, still punishing her son for something that happened long in the past.

But that’s not a new revelation, nor is it one I’ll dwell on tonight.

Drake meets my eyes, likely sensing what I wish to say, and then he turns away as if bored.

Surely I wasn’t the only one who was enthralled by the performance?

Ignoring Drake’s lackluster response, I clasp my hands in my lap to keep them still and ask Brahm and Regina, “What did you think? Did you enjoy it?”

Brahm nods languidly, stretching as he stands. A couple years older than I am, he’s tall, with broad shoulders and an intimidating presence. He’s often at odds with Mother, and many are cautious of him because of it—but I know him better than most.

“It was entertaining”—he shoots me an ornery look—“but I think I prefer the theater in Kellington.”

I scowl at him, wondering why he’s such a killjoy. I’ve never cared that I’m forbidden from leaving West Faerie, but now…

The performance kindled curiosity inside me, slowly fanning the spark into a flame. What other kinds of magic do the human territories offer? What am I missing? In one night, I’ve realized there’s a vast world I’ll never see. Performances I’ll never attend. People I won’t have a chance to meet.

And speaking of people…

I take another peek at the stage, hoping to spot someone in particular—a performer with sandy blond hair and a disarming smile. Where did he disappear to? Surely he couldn’t vanish so quickly. Was he so eager to be away?

He looked older than me, but only by a year or two. And he held my eyes during the curtain call—I’m certain of it.

“Excuse me, Your Highness?”

“Hmm?” I ask absently as I continue to scan the crowd, reluctantly turning my attention to the owner of the voice.

And then I freeze.

The young man I’m looking for stands before me, waiting patiently for me to acknowledge him. He played the character in love with the female lead, heartbreakingly handsome and destined for heartbreak. He was my favorite.

And now he’s here, smiling at me.

I flush as I meet his moss-green eyes, my heart giving an extra thump when I realize he’s even more handsome up close. A strand of hair falls across his brow, mussed from the long performance.