Page 26 of Once Upon an Enchanted Castle

“Yes.” She glanced around the vast room looking for a bellpull.

He must have realized what she was looking for and pointed. “It’s over there.”

The gold cord hung on the far wall next to an oil painting of a horse.

“I’ll leave you to it, then.”

He seemed reluctant to leave. Truthfully, she was reluctant for him to leave as well. After a long moment of silence, he gave a brief bow and then headed back to the door, disappearing into the hallway and leaving her quite alone.

Chapter 11

“Youwereright,myprince, sheisquite the beauty.”

Dickens’s voice startled him as he closed the door behind him and paused in the hallway. His valet seemed to blend in with the shadows and tapestries. He pressed a hand against his rapid beating heart.

“You do enjoy skulking around the castle, don’t you?” Leopold said as he started down the hallway.

“My prince, you intend to leave her in there all alone?” Dickens sounded perplexed at the idea.

“I can’t very well hang about while she translates the book, now can I?” he retorted.

“But the library—”

“She will be fine in there,” he interrupted.

He tried not to think about how her beautiful face looked when the parchment and inkwell appeared on the table. Her expression contorted into a mixture of surprise and confusion tinged with fear. He wanted to reassure her that everything was all right, but if he did that, he would have to explain things he was not prepared to explain.

The library was much like the rest of the castle but with its own mysteries and quirks. At times, the books whispered the words from their haunted pages. Other times, they sang melancholy melodies that echoed throughout the large room. And sometimes, without warning, they would fall from the shelves and land on the floor with such a clatter it would wake the dead.

He hoped the books behaved themselves in the presence of the young lady. Not that he could do anything about it—he simply hoped they sensed she was a guest and remain quiet.

At any rate, he suspected hovering around her while she tried to translate, and concentrate was not going to do either of them any good.

“I think I make her nervous,” he added.

“Of course you make her nervous,” Dickens replied. “You’re a prince—”

“Not to her,” he interrupted, halting midway down the corridor. He turned to his old friend. “She doesn’t know who I am.”

A brow lifted in question, wrinkling his pale forehead. “Forgive my impertinence, but I’m sure she can guess who you are. This isn’t exactly a cottage we live in.”

Leopold frowned. It hadn’t occurred to him she would use her deductive reasoning to figure out he was someone of importance. Naturally, she would assume he was part of the nobility, but certainly not from an ancient royal bloodline that had ruled this part of Cassoné for centuries. His family name had fallen into disreputable ruin after the scandal that rocked them to the core. His parents were long gone, and he was cursed to live in his enchanted castle. Hope bloomed like the dusky evening rose crawling along the low stone wall that someday he would find a way to break that curse.

He had almost given up that hope until he saw Isabella carrying the book. It had renewed his faith that, in fact, the cursecouldbe broken before the sands of time finally ran out.

The enchanted hourglass was almost empty. He tried not to think about that these last few months as he watched the glimmering iridescent sands flowing from the top to the bottom.

“She cannot know who I am,” he said, firmly and pointedly at Dickens.

“You intendneverto tell her?” he asked, then, clearly shocked by his determined resolve.

“Quite right.” He spun on his heel and headed back down the hallway, leaving Dickens behind. Then, as an afterthought, he called over his shoulder, “And neither will you.”

Dickens fell in step next to him, his long legs having no trouble keeping up with him. “Might I ask what you intend to do to conceal your situation at the full moon? Which, I might add, is tonight, my prince.”

“She’s not staying.” As he said it, a pang of disappointment pierced him. He hadn’t realized how disheartened he was to hear she intended to return to her home before nightfall. “In fact, we must have the carriage ready at dusk to take her back to the town.”

“And tomorrow?”

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