Page 73 of Once Upon an Enchanted Castle

Silence forever in the gloaming.

In the darkest night, no name remembered. No light is welcome.

The hourglass bleeds its last.

When the sky is blind and the stars dare not shine.

The final form shall take root.

Not beast. Not man. Something in between.

Bound by thorn. Named by none.

“I have something.” Her voice sounded loud in the quiet.

Leopold shot to his feet, moving around the edge of the sofa and coming to stand beside her at the desk. She looked up and watched as he stared down at her writing. His eyes flicked over every word, every line.

“When the sky is blind…you said that had something to do with the new moon?” he asked.

“Yes.” She reached for the celestial events book, flipping it open to the page she marked. She lifted it up to show him. “We have very little time before the new moon.”

He studied the phases of the moon as depicted in the drawing on the page. His brows pinched together.

“Tell me what you think it means?” he asked.

“I thinkno light is welcomemeans the darkest part of night, when there is a new moon and nothing to light the way.The hourglass bleeds its lastmust signify when the sands run out coinciding with this phase of the moon.”

His gaze cut to the hourglass. He gave it a good stare before his eyes flicked back to the phases of the moon.

She continued, “The final form shall take root. That means you will become the beast and remain that way forever. I’m not sure what the last two lines mean.”

“I do.” His voice was rough, raw. “Bound by thorn. Named by none. It means the brand will never go away and my name, my castle, my very essence will be forgotten forever.”

He straightened and stepped away from her. She sensed his unease, his distress, and shoved back from the desk. She got to her feet, the inkwell shivering on top of the desk by her sudden movement. Following her impulse, she stepped in front of him and took his hands in hers.

“This is not the last of the book. There are more pages yet. More runes to uncover.”

Leopold stilled, not moving. Perhaps not even breathing as he looked down at their entwined hands. He was warm to the touch. His hands smooth, yet not soft. His grip strong, yet not cruel. Her heart thudded once, hard. She started to pull away, but he tightened his hold in a way that saiddo not release me.

Her mouth turned to ash. Her stomach threatened to heave her breakfast. As their eyes met, she saw the shimmering tenderness deep in his gaze. She recalled the day she stood beside his bed, the way he touched her face, the way he looked at her. It was much the same now. Then she thought—hoped—he might kiss her. Then she was afraid of how that made her feel. Now, she was no longer afraid of those feelings.

She tilted her head back, her lips parted as she loosed a breath. He dipped his head closer to her. The surroundings disappeared. Fading to the background. There was no sound other than her heart pounding like a war drum, the whoosh of her pulse in her ears, and the warmth of his hands on hers.

“Shall I remove the breakfast dishes, my prince?”

Dickens’ voice made them jump apart, shattering the moment. She stumbled back toward the desk, her hands shaking as she reached for the chair to sit. Disappointment flooded her at the interruption. Leopold straightened and turned to his valet, as though nothing was amiss. As though they were not standing intimately close.

“Yes, thank you, Dickens.” He sounded normal, strong and sure.

Bella busied herself at the desk, fiddling with the quill and keeping her gaze downcast. Her cheeks were warm, her nerves ragged. She allowed herself to be caught in the moment, to hope there was something between them.

Dickens picked up the discarded dishes and loaded them on top of the tray. He wheeled it out of the room, disappearing through the door without even so much as casting a backward glance at the two of them.

“I’m afraid I’m a distraction. I’ll leave you to your work,” Leopold announced.

Before she was able to protest, he was gone.

Chapter 30

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