Page 82 of The Gilded Fae (Royal Fae of Rose Briar Woods 2)

SABINE

It’s ridiculous Alex gave me a dressing room when I won’t step foot on stage. It’s just as easy for me to dress in black before I come to the theater as it is to change here—but then again, I might draw attention if I arrive looking like I’m attending a funeral.

I sit in front of the mirror, idly trying to work the cursed ring off my thumb—it’s become a habit now. In the quiet time before I must take my place backstage, I think about my brothers. I sent the letter to Brahm, but I haven’t gotten a reply. He wouldn’t know where to send one.

He must be furious. Though he rarely loses his temper, I imagine I’m in for a lecture when I return to Faerie. I’ll never be left unguarded again.

I yank my hand from the ring when there’s a knock at the door, expecting Alex or Frederick.

But it’s neither.

“Lord Cavinder.” I rise as the gentleman steps into the room. When I spot the bouquet of scarlet roses in his arms, I recoil, bumping against the dressing table.

“Good evening, Miss Sabine,” Frederick’s father says warmly, stepping inside and closing the door.

My eyes stray behind him, uneasy to find myself alone with the man. Phillip isn’t with him this time, and I don’t know what to make of that.

He offers me the roses. “For a job well done.”

I force a smile as I accept them. “Isn’t it customary to deliver flowers after the performance? I’m afraid you might have doomed me.”

“Nonsense,” he says with a laugh, eyeing me too closely. “It’s impossible for you to be less than perfect, don’t you agree, Your Highness?”

A chill travels my spine, but I raise my brows as if confused. With a soft laugh, I ask, “Your Highness?”

“I knew you immediately.”

Dropping the ruse, I set the roses aside and stand taller. “You’ve been to the Auvenridge Court?”

“Once or twice.” Still watching me too closely, he adds, “For business.”

“What business could you possibly have in West Faerie?”

He turns away, studying the room with impartial interest. Ignoring my question, he says, “My condolences about your mother. Such a sad misfortune that befell her.”

“You’re one of very few to mourn for her,” I say sharply.

My heart beats too quickly, and my magic strains against its binding.

“I have to wonder what Queen Marison would think of you performing in a theater in Davon?” he says conversationally, but there’s a shrewd look on his face that’s impossible to miss. “Or your subjects, for that matter.”

“My mother is trapped in her own curse, near death.” I tilt my chin up. “And I don’t believe it’s any of my people’s concern.”

“They might believe otherwise.” He then waves his hand with a self-conscious laugh. “Listen to me prattle on before your first performance. Best of luck to you, princess. I’m confident you will enchant all who attend.”

I watch him go, the knot in my stomach tightening with each step he takes.

Before he leaves, Lord Cavinder says, “We’ll continue our chat another time.”

“Just a moment,” I say sharply, but he’s just opened the door, and Frederick and Alex are on the other side, looking startled by my raised voice.

Ignoring me, Lord Cavinder passes, nodding to them as he goes. They linger in the doorway after he’s gone, befuddled. I try to push past them, but Alex catches me by the shoulders. “Sabine, what’s the matter?”

Anxiety plagues me as I look down the hall. Lord Cavinder has already turned the corner.

“Did he say something to upset you?” Alex demands.

Instead of answering him, I whirl around to face Frederick. “What business does your father conduct in Faerie?”