Page 75 of Once Upon an Enchanted Castle

“She was able to translate more of the book, but the answer still eludes her.”

Leopold remained with his back to him as he spoke, his voice stripped bare—bereft, almost hollow. Dickens said nothing. Better that way. Better to let him hold on to the last shreds of his pride.

He imagined it was difficult watching the sands slip away. Slow, relentless, cruel. The enchanted hourglass never hurried, never faltered. It simply drained him, grain by grain, and made him watch. To know one’s fate was tied to that. To understand that when the last grain of iridescent sand fell to the bottom, life as he knew it was over.

Dickens tightened his jaw.

It would be the end of Leopold’s cursed life. It would also be the end of the man he had once been.

The end of this castle. The end ofhimself.

Even so, he held onto hope the girl would find a way.

“I have faith she will find the answer,” Dickens said.

At last, Leopold turned to face him. For the first time, he saw fear in the prince’s eyes. It didn’t sit well with him, for the prince always faced his fate with bravery and courage. He had never let the burden of the curse wear him down. Now, it appeared it was doing just that. Eroding away what was left of him.

“I hope you’re right, Dickens,” he said.

He swiftly moved into the room. “I am right.”

Leopold’s brows drew together in question. “You sound certain about that.”

“I am and you should be, too. After all, it’s clear the girl has feelings for you.”

He gaped at him for a long moment, his jaw clenched. The muscles ticking along the edge. Then, he scoffed, “That’s preposterous.”

“Think what you will. But I saw the look she gave you earlier and the way she held your hands. She looked for you when she left. Hoping to see you before she got into the carriage and it took her back to the village.”

He didn’t know why he said it. It wasn’t like him to push himself into Leopold’s business. But for this—for her—he had to make him see she wasn’t giving up. He shouldn’t either.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d swear the man blushed. When he got that under control, Leopold’s face registered regret for not seeing her off. Though he didn’t lie to the girl, the prince was still recovering from his injuries, it seemed kinder to tell her that than to tell her he was hiding in his room like a coward.

“The sun has almost set,” Leopold said, ignoring his last words. “We best get to the garden.”

Chapter 31

Theclatterofthecarriage was in the distance as Bella hurried down the footpath from the village. A longing burned through her with every step as she headed back to Hawthorne Hall. She wanted nothing more to shut herself in the library and stare at the book, trying to see the shifting vines and thorns and brambles.

She saw the hourglass that day on the desk. There wasn’t much time left.

Insurmountable pressure pounded through her. The deadline for his final transformation loomed like the last heartbeat of a life she hadn’t realized she was fighting for or one that she so desperately wanted.

As she approached the manor, she saw the outline of the familiar carriage sitting out front. She halted there a moment, cradling the books in the crook of her arm and her gloves crushed in the fist of her hand.

What washedoing here again? This was the second night Lord Vincent visited while she was out.

She dropped the books at her feet and hastily pulled on her gloves, then dropped the bonnet on her head, foregoing tying it. Scooping up the books, she headed for the door, trying to squelch the sudden panic that rose to her throat.

Once she was inside, soft laughter emitted from the parlor. Candlelight danced in the foyer and the strong aroma of roasted meat filled the air. She’d missed dinner again. Her stomach let her know its displeasure at skipping yet another meal.

When the door closed with a snap, the voices stopped. Footsteps, then Emmaline popped out of the parlor with an expectant look on her face.

“Oh, Bella, Lord Vincent is here.”

“Again. Yes, I see.”

She moved to the doorway of the parlor, stepping around the girl. Lord Vincent stood by the fireplace. His pristine white gloves were on the low table as well as his top hat.

---