Page 41 of The Gilded Fae (Royal Fae of Rose Briar Woods 2)

Sabine’s eyebrows twitch, and her lips part ever so subtly. She studies me for a moment longer. Without waiting for me to explain my abrupt change in manner, she turns toward the path that will lead her back to the carriages and the castle’s front entry.

I follow the princess resolutely, angry with myself—and ashamed by how much I want to hold her again.

* * *

Sabineand I sit with Frederick and his father at their table for dinner, both of us pretending our shared moment outside the castle never happened. After the meal, the orchestra begins their selection of music for the evening. People make their way toward the middle of the great hall to dance. The rest of us remain at the tables around the perimeter, many settling in for conversations.

“Will you do me the honor of a dance before Alex steals you away for the night?” Frederick asks Sabine, bowing in front of her.

She glances at me, her eyes holding mine for only a second, and then she smiles at my friend, taking his hand. “Of course.”

I watch her go, feeling Lord Cavinder’s stare. When I look at him, he gives me a knowing smile. “You’re quite taken with the girl, aren’t you?”

Phillip sits beside Frederick’s father, silent and expressionless as always. Deciding there’s no point in hiding it from either of them, I nod.

“She’s beautiful.” Lord Cavinder sits back in his chair. “But you’re escorting her home tomorrow?”

“I am.”

“It’s a shame she won’t consider singing in your show.”

It’s like he’s purposely rubbing lemon juice into a raw wound.

Lord Cavinder and I have a complicated relationship. I’m grateful for all he did for me when I returned from Faerie, and all he continues to do for me now, but I’m in his debt, and it’s a heavy burden. If he hadn’t funded the theater’s revival, it would sit empty to this day. There was little left in Father’s account after he abruptly closed the theater doors, certainly not enough to pay for the next show.

Upon my return, Lord Cavinder and I made a deal. He loaned money to me so I could get the theater running again, just as he helped my father with the initial investment. The terms stated I had five years to repay him, or the theater would become his. I thought it would be plenty of time, but four years have already passed, and I’m always short that final payment.

Even Frederick doesn’t know how much money I owe his father, or what I’ll lose if I cannot come up with the gold to pay him back.

“Bertram wouldn’t have let her walk away,” Lord Cavinder muses while watching Sabine and Frederick dance. “He would have done anything to put her on his stage.”

I glance at him, uneasy. “What, exactly, do you think I should do? I can’t actually kidnap her.”

He glances down at the gold ring I’ve worn since I returned from Faerie. “She’s Fae, isn’t she?”

“How do you know that?” I demand, looking around to assure myself no one but Phillip overheard him.

“I’ve dealt with their kind.” He pauses. “After what they did to you, I’m surprised you’d have reservations about persuading her to stay.”

The innuendo in his words makes me uncomfortable, but it’s nothing new. He’s known throughout Davon as a benefactor for the downtrodden—the saintly lord who runs several boarding houses to help the poor and unfortunate. But he is a businessman at heart, despite his charitable acts. And I owe him a great deal of money.

Dropping my voice, I say, “Even if I wanted Sabine in the show, it’s not as if I can force her. She’s Fae—she has magic. She could burn me to ash or freeze me alive. She could turn me into a statue or create a devilish wind to spirit me into the next province.”

Lord Cavinder nods to the ring once more. “That charm blocks your tether to the Fae, does it not?”

“Yes…”

How could he know that?

“What do you think would happen if one of their kind were to wear it?”

“I have no idea,” I say, uncomfortable.

Again, I look at Phillip, but the man is like a hunk of stone. With a blank face, he idly stares at people as they mingle. I’m not sure he’s even listening to our conversation.

“Maybe you should ask the one who created it for you.” Lord Cavinder studies me with his calm brown eyes. “I’d hate to see you lose your father’s theater when the key to paying off your debt is within your grasp.”

Before I can ask him how he knows about the ring, our conversation is interrupted by Mr. Hughes. The merchant owns several vessels that go between Valsta and Algora. With a friendly greeting, he joins us at our table. He and Lord Cavinder begin a conversation about tariffs on spices, and I stand, uninterested in the subject.