Page 75 of The Gilded Fae (Royal Fae of Rose Briar Woods 2)

I sigh as soon as we pass into the dappled shade of the mature oaks. Gentle magic surrounds me, as cool and welcome as spring rain. Birds sing from the trees, and squirrels scamper up tree trunks and chatter at us as we pass. Other couples explore the garden, but they’re too involved in their conversations to pay attention to Alex and me.

“I feel as if I can breathe again,” I say.

Alex smiles. “In all the time I’ve lived in Davon, I don’t think I’ve been here more than once. It’s nice.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Hmm?” He pauses to study a vine with dozens of bold orange, trumpet-shaped flowers. It attracts several hummingbirds, many with jeweled ruby throats.

“Your relationship with Frederick’s father seems strained. Why is that?”

Alex turns from the flowers, giving me his full attention. “You’re observant, princess.”

I wait for him to answer, giving him space to decline. But Alex gestures to a nearby shaded bench, and we sit.

“It took a great deal of money to get the theater running again,” Alex explains. “Money I didn’t have. Father wiped out our accounts during the year I went missing to pay the current show’s investors, and since he abruptly closed the theater’s doors, no funds were coming in.”

I nod, clasping my hands in my lap as I fight back another round of guilt.

“Lord Cavinder offered to help me as he once helped my father,” Alex continues. “But I had to provide collateral.”

I draw in a sharp breath, suddenly realizing what he’s done. “The theater.”

Alex nods, grimacing. “I had five years to pay him back—it seemed like plenty. But profits must always be split between the shows’ multiple investors, and repairs are constant. I have less than a year now, and if this show doesn’t—”

“It will,” I assure him. “You have Candace.”

His face softens. “No—I have you.”

Don’t put all your hopes on me, Alex.

“Frederick doesn’t know,” Alex says, looking away. “Don’t tell him.”

“Lord Cavinder was your father’s friend. Surely he could amend the contract?”

Alex laughs bitterly. “Lord Cavinder is a businessman, and I was young and desperate. He knew his hand was stronger than mine.”

“He wants the theater.”

Alex nods. “Lord Cavinder wanted to be a partner, but Father refused, saying he was saving half the theater for me.”

“I’m sorry,” I say softly. “It must feel as if you’re carrying a great burden.”

“It’s actually freeing to talk about it.” He bumps his shoulder against mine. “I’ve never confided in anyone before.”

My heart flutters, and I drop my gaze to my lap.

“How is your hand?” he asks.

I turn it over, studying my palm. “It’s fine now.”

Alex examines it, running his finger along my skin. “It scarred.”

“There was a scar before, so it makes little difference.”

“Before you came to Davon? What could have done that to you?”

“A letter opener.” Memories flood back, unwelcome.