Chapter 22

P hillip found his and Jeffrey’s horse grazing peacefully in a nearby meadow. Well, nearby wasn’t exactly accurate. It was more of a hike. He tied Jeffrey’s horse to his and made his way back as the sun dipped toward the horizon.

As he did, he couldn’t help but think of all the strange happenings since meeting Rosamund. He thought of the soldiers from Myst Hall who found them in town a few days ago and how easily they seemed to have given up searching for her. He wondered why. She was a princess, after all. More soldiers should be swarming the forest by now. But they weren’t.

And then there was the old hag, Olga and her mysterious cabin had conveniently appeared within the woods when they needed food and shelter. When she mentioned the dragon and its treasure, a thrum of excitement went through him almost immediately. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before. As though he had a sudden need to find this treasure and live out a boyhood fantasy that he never knew he had.

Then there was the troll that seemed to pop up out of nowhere. Trolls did not normally roam these woods. It was merely something he said to frighten the princess a little. To make sure she needed him to protect her.

Turns out, she didn’t need him to protect her at all. She had wielded his sword as though she were a master. He’d watched in fascinated horror as she stuck the thing in the eye, killing it.

Even so, where had the troll come from?

It was early nightfall as he neared the makeshift camp that had popped up. He was relieved to see the other two horses had not escaped and were running wild somewhere deep in the forest.

“Should you go after him?” Rosamund asked. She sat on the ground next to Charles, clutching her elbows. “It’s almost dark.”

Jeffrey was perched on a rock opposite them. In between them, a crackling fire.

“He’ll be fine,” Jeffrey said in his most bored and annoyed voice.

“Will he?” Phillip called out as he approached.

He caught sight of Rosamund as she sat straighter. Her face lit up when she saw him. It was clear she was glad to see him which did something to his insides. He paused to analyze that for a moment and realized it was happiness.

Yes, he was happy to see her, too. Though he was not too happy to see her sitting next to Charles who swooned over her since the moment he met her.

“About time you showed up.” Jeffrey stopped what was he was doing to give him a stern look. “We were beginning to think you left us.”

He noticed Rosamund got to her feet and limped toward him. She was favoring her twisted ankle still. Other than that, she appeared to be unscathed from the troll attack.

“Only Jeffrey thought that,” she said, correcting Jeffrey and giving Phillip a smile. “I’m glad you’re back.”

His heart stuttered with her words and for a moment, he forgot they were promised to one another. For a moment, she was merely a lovely young maid who currently caught his attention.

Phillip came to a halt and dismounted. “It was a bit of a hike to find the horses. They made it to a far meadow.”

“Charles, come tend the horses,” Jeffrey ordered.

“Leave him be. He’s injured,” Rosamund snapped, fire flashing in her eyes.

A look of surprise flickered over his friend’s face. He was unaccustomed to being told what to do.

“Perhaps you should take care of the horses, Jeffrey,” Phillip suggested.

With some reluctance, he took the reins and led the horses away to remove their saddles and feed them. That left him with the princess, something with which he was not opposed. When she hooked her arm with his, shock went through him.

“Were you bored without my company, princess?” He made a point to glance down at her stocking foot. “You’re still limping.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Even as she said it, she leaned into him to keep as much weight off her foot as possible. If they were in any other place, under any other circumstances, he would whisk her into his arms and carry her away from these two. Perhaps find a secluded camp of their own so that he could properly woo her.

The moment the thought crossed his mind, he shoved it away. He had to remind himself she was no ordinary tavern wench. She was much more than that and deserved to be treated better.

“I think you took poor Jeffrey aback,” Phillip said, glancing his friend’s way. He was frowning as he tended the horses.

Rosamund clutched his arm tighter. “Charles needs rest after hitting his head.”

“Do I detect a note of affection for him?” He was teasing her even though he shouldn’t. He was also aware of the bit of jealousy that had surfaced when he saw them sitting together.

“Nothing more than friendship,” she replied, her tone even. She wasn’t going to let him to rile her. “Though I daresay he seems to like me more than I like him.”

She cut him a glance through her lashes and gave him a wicked smile. As if she sensed his jealousy and wanted to make sure he knew it. He lifted a brow.

“Does he now?”

“He said I was touched by Fae magic.”

When they came to a halt, he turned to her. “You were. But you sound as though you don’t believe me.”

She glanced away, her gaze on something in the distance. “I don’t know if I do. My parents certainly never told me that story.”

“Your parents also never told you that you were betrothed,” he pointed out.

Nodding, she said, “That’s true.”

She released his arm and turned her face into the gentle wind. Her scent wafted to him. For the first time, he noticed she smelled faintly of roses and lilacs. Her nickname, Rose, seemed to fit her so well. The wind lifted wisps of hair from her neck and the side of her face. Her braid had nearly come undone from the troll attack, leaving tendrils to drift around her head.

“When I was a little girl, my father had every rosebush in the kingdom removed and outlawed. I didn’t understand then why he did it, but I do now. He wanted to protect me.” Her gaze met his. “He wanted to keep me safe. Part of me wants to believe that the truth is because the faery cursed me. The other part of me wants to scoff at the very idea.”

He tipped his head to the side in question, his eyes searching hers. She had delicate features and the most amazing green eyes he had ever seen. Her full lips demanded he kiss her, but somehow, he managed to resist.

“Which part of you wants to believe?” he asked.

“That the curse is real.”

He had no words for that, so he merely nodded. He watched her intently as she pondered his words. She chewed on a corner of her lip.

“I don’t believe you’d lie to me,” she added.

“I didn’t nor will I.”

Suddenly, she turned to face him and clutched his hand, gripping it in her ice cold one. “Then tell me true. Do you wish to marry me? Do you wish for our kingdoms to be united? Because my father believes there is a threat from Faery to the east, that they will invade.”

Phillip was momentarily taken aback by that and he floundered for an answer. His mouth had gone dry as he thought about a future with her. As he looked at her, he tried to decide if there was hope in her eyes that they would marry or if it was dread.

“For the last few years, my father groomed me to become a ruler because someday I would inherit his title. I sat in many council meetings and listened to them discuss this threat from Faery. My father, like I, do not believe there is a threat. They have no interest in our kingdom.”

“Then why did my father invite them to the christening?” she demanded.

“I do not know. Only that King Stephan’s desire was to unite Myst and Woodhaven and that my father agreed to it with a marriage bond,” he said. “It is the way of such things.”

She released his hand. Again, she turned from him and peered out into the distance, her expression pensive. She chewed on her lower lip.

“I cannot help but think that something is pushing us together.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I mean despite every thought I have that what I’m doing is wrong, that it’s hurting my kingdom and my family…I cannot seem to quell the desire to find this dragon and its treasure.”

A prickling sensation went through him and his stomach lurched. He dropped his voice. “I have felt the same.”

When she looked at him, he saw the fear and worry in her eyes. “You have?”

“Though I know we should return to Myst Hall, I also know I cannot ignore the need to find this treasure. To hunt this dragon. And that I must not let you out of my sight.” He reached for her hand, clutched it in his. Her fingers were still cold. “The troll attack should not have happened.”

“What do you mean?” She tilted her head to one side, pursing her lips.

He tugged her closer, glancing around the tiny camp. Jeffrey was still busy with the horses. Charles was resting against the fallen tree with his eyes closed. Still, he dropped his voice so only she heard.

“Trolls do not frequent these woods,” he added.

“Then someone sent the troll to attack us,” she said.

“And that someone wanted the troll to remove Jeffrey and Charles from our traveling party. The troll went for Jeffrey first.”

She squeezed his hand. “Yes, and then you.”

“But only because I retaliated. It attacked me in self-defense.”

Her mind was working as she tried to make sense of all he said. “And then came after Charles.”

He nodded.

“Which means whoever sent the troll wants to make sure only the two of us make it to the dragon’s cave.”

It was something he, too, had thought of. “I believe so.”

“And the old woman in the cabin…she made sure to give you the map to the cave, to entice you to go after it,” she added. She pressed her free hand to her lips. Her hand was shaking. “And that night, I had the overwhelming urge to go after the dragon and its treasure as well.”

“I believe there are magical forces at work here,” he said. “Magical forces pushing us together and toward the dragon and its treasure.”

“But why?” she whispered and then her eyes widened as the realization smacked into her with the force of a battering ram. “Tomorrow is my eighteenth birthday.”

He had no response other than a nod. He remembered all too well the curse that was placed upon her as a baby. That before the sun set on her eighteenth birthday, she would prick her finger.

“What do we do?” she asked. “Do we keep going?”

“I think we have to,” he said. “If only to release us from whatever spell is driving us.”

Silence stretched between them. After a long moment, she said, “Well, then,” her words slow and quiet, “let us hope we find no roses.”