Page 48 of Once Upon an Enchanted Kiss

Impatience bubbled through her. “What does this have to do with a curse and an evil faery?”

“I’m getting to that,” Phillip said, trying to temper her irritation.

By now, Charles joined them in the small circle. He sat on the ground next to his brother. Firelight flickered over his face. Both of them listened to the story as Phillip continued.

“Queen Rowena was so angry she was forgotten she bestowed her gift upon you.”

“And what gift was that?” she asked.

“Before the sun sets on your eighteenth birthday, you will prick your finger on the thorn of a rose and die.”

The blood drained from her head in a whoosh so fast, she saw black pinpricks dancing in her vision. She looked away from him, peering down at her clasped fingers in her lap. Her heart raced as a dizziness swept over her. And suddenly, she understood why there were no roses in the castle gardens and why her father was adamant there never would be. He was trying to protect her from pricking her finger on a thorn. As the lightheadedness enveloped her, a wave of panic washed over her. She pitched forward, her head in her hands. If she were able to walk, she would have stormed off. As it was, she had to remain in place.

“I think you better finish the story, Phillip,” Jeffrey said.

“Finish the story?” Her words were muffled against her hands.

“There was one Fae royal who had not given you her gift,” he said, quickly. “She changed the curse to make you fall into a deep sleep, rather than die.”

She lifted her head, pinned him with her fiery gaze. “Because that’s so much better.”

“Rose—”

“I said don’t call me that. No one calls me that. Not even my mother,” she snapped. “My birthday is the day after tomorrow.”

“I know,” he said.

“It is?” Jeffrey asked, surprise etching his words.

“And I intend to protect you,” Phillip said, ignoring Jeffrey.

“From pricking my finger on a thorn?” She almost laughed. “How do you intend to do that, oh gallant prince?”

Jeffrey and Charles both laughed. Phillip glowered at them.

To Rosamund, he said, “I intend to keep you safe however I must.”

“That’s very sweet of you, but I don’t need your protection.” She gave a pointed look to Jeffrey and Charles. “Or anyone’s.”

“Rose—”

“Isaidstop calling me that!”

“I think she means it,” Jeffrey said.

“You stay out of this,” Phillip growled.

Jeffrey held his hands up as if in surrender.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” she demanded. “My parents told me none of this.”

Deep down, she knew it was the truth, but she couldn’t help but challenge Phillip’s story.

“They also didn’t tell you that we were betrothed until a few days ago,” he pointed out.

And she hated that he knew that. She stared down at her hands, her fingers clamped together to keep them from shaking with her rage, her fear, her shock.

“I tell you true, princess,” he said, his voice soft. “There is no reason for me to lie.”

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