Page 32 of Once Upon an Enchanted Kiss

“Yes,” she said with a nod. She focused her gaze on the cluster of trees in front of her. The smell of bracken and damp leaves wafted to her nose. “I don’t want to go back.”

“Why not?” he asked.

Anything she answered would give her true persona away. She dragged her lower lip through her teeth and tried to come up with a plausible response.

“Are you the daughter of a noble?” he asked.

A laugh nearly bubbled up her throat, but she managed to contain it. She glanced at him. “You could say that.”

He still leaned on the saddle horn. His handsome features were creased with perplexity. Golden strands of his hair shone in the afternoon light shafting through the trees. He tipped his head to the side and gave her a lopsided grin.

“Are you running away from an arranged marriage?” He said it as though it were a farce.

Her heart thudded. “Yes.”

His cocky grin melted away replaced by something akin to empathy. “I understand that.”

“You do?”

Rosamund met his gaze and her pulse skipped. His expression softened, as though he truly did understand. He straightened in the saddle, then shifted.

“More than you know,” he muttered.

She took a deep breath and decided to throw away her caution. “The truth is I am betrothed to the prince of Woodhaven.”

His head snapped to her, his eyes wide with surprise. “You…” The word came out a breath. He swallowed hard, regaining his composure. “But…to be betrothed to a prince, you’d have to be—”

“A princess. And I am.” She refused to meet his gaze. “The Princess of Myst. Daughter of King Stephan and Queen Eleanor.”

“The princess…of Myst Hall.” He sounded incredulous, his voice a roughened whisper.

She glanced at him to gauge his reaction. His expression was unreadable, his eyes shadowed as though deep in thought.

“My parents didn’t tell me I was betrothed until the day the king and queen of Woodhaven arrived. My wedding was already planned a few days after my birthday. That’s why I ran away. I do not wish for my life to be controlled and planned for me.” She clutched the reins tighter in her hands until they cramped.

“You are Princess Rosamund. Aren’t you?” he asked.

The sound of her name rolling off his tongue sent a little thrill through her. Heat crawled up her neck and pierced her cheeks. “Yes. Are you going to hand me over to the soldiers?”

He considered this as he looked at her, then he shook his head slowly. “No, I am not.”

“Because you could,” she continued, as though trying to convince him. “And likely fetch a nice price for returning me to my father. He would pay handsomely for my safe return, no doubt.”

There was a bitterness in her tone. A bitterness she hadn’t expected to hear. Did she want to return? No, not ever. But if this man insisted on finding the soldiers and handing her over, she would have no choice but to go.

“I’m not going to turn you in,” he said, his voice soft.

“You’re not?”

“No,” he said. “They’re likely looking for you in the next town over.” His dazzling smile was reassuring. “If we keep to the trees, they likely won’t follow us.”

“Do you think so?” Her voice was quiet, almost timid, and she hated herself for that.

“I do. And, I think we should continue our journey. That is, if you’d like to continue along with me.”

Relief sputtered through her. “I would like that very much.”

“Good. Then perhaps we’ll find that adventure yet.” He gave her a surreptitious wink as he took up the reins and nudged his horse into a walk.

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