Page 8 of The Mirror and the Curse

What would she tell everyone? The more she thought about her adventure, the more confusing it became. She vaguely remembered White’s landing on a grassy hilltop. But now she was in the palace gardens. How did that happen? What would she tell her father? That she and White accidentally flew off course, then gave up on the race and decided to hang out in the palace gardens for a while without letting anyone know?

Hearing a deep groan, she leaned forward to stroke the horse’s face and neck. “White, darling, are you all right?” His ears flicked toward her, and he opened one eye, drew in a breath, then exhaled in a long moan, his chest appearing to deflate. His feathers quivered, making a whirring sound.

“Yeah, I felt pretty much the same when I woke up. We got hit with a sleeping potion.” She stroked his cheek and gently rubbed around his ears, smoothing his forelock. “I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

His eye opened again, still unfocused, but he blew softly through his nose and pulled his droopy lips over his teeth. His ears twitched as she spoke her thoughts. “I know where we are now. That fence up there surrounds the swimming pool.”

White attempted to lift his head, and his left wing flapped weakly. He lay back down with a rushing moan, but a moment later he tried again. Eddi crawled out of the way while her horse rolled upright on his belly and lay there, flexing and stretching both wings, his eyes bleary.

“I guess it’s about time for us to rejoin the real world,” Eddi mused. When the note crackled in her hand, she looked down at it, gave one sharp nod, and tucked it into her flight suit’s inner breast pocket. Her memories of that entire conversation felt dreamlike, but she held solid proof it had occurred. She was not crazy. She and White had been victims of a magic attack. And Kai had agreed to train her and White. He would help them prepare for the Cup, the premiere racing event of the year.

She pushed herself to her feet and leaned against the lumpy trunk of an olive tree. What time was it? How long ago had the race ended? She still felt fuzzy in her head . . . But people needed to know she was alive and well.

With a grunt, a snort, and a great rustle of wings, White pushed his front half up until his forelegs were straight, then gathered his rear legs beneath himself and heaved to an unsteady standing position, head low, wings slightly spread for balance on the sloping lawn. His long tail gave a few swishes, and his eyes focused on Eddi. “You all right?” she asked. “I’m feeling pretty woozy too.”

He lowered his head and began to tear up mouthfuls of lush grass. “Your stomach is stronger than mine,” she observed. Wuffling through his nose, his tail swishing away a fly, he seemed as cheerful as ever now that he was upright.

“C’mon, big guy.” Eddi touched the horse’s side. He immediately stepped forward, still chewing, his head bobbing near her shoulder.

She took the easy route around the hill toward the stables rather than climb up to the pool. The formal gardens were as lovely as she remembered, dotted with olive and cypress trees along with the occasional row of poplars. Flowers bloomed neatly in beds and containers, and the grass was a lush deep green.

As a child she had loved this place and dreamed of someday getting married in the palace garden. Back then she’d crushed on Crown Prince Stefano, who’d been a fascinatingly melancholy teenager and totally unaware of her existence. By the time he married some Vetrician countess a few years back, she hadn’t shed one tear.

Fidelio was near her age and far sweeter, not to mention a more attainable prospect. With a little effort she could become a Vetrician princess yet!

As if her thoughts had conjured him, Fidelio’s deep voice hailed from up ahead. “Eddi!”

Prince Fidelio approached at a run, his long legs making quick work of the sloping path. He still wore his red flight suit, zipped down in front to reveal the logo of his family’s stables on a black tee-shirt. Delighted, Eddi hurried to meet him with White keeping pace. “Did you win the race?” she called.

“What? Oh! No, I came in second, but . . . Eddi, what happened to you? Other riders said you suddenly flew off into the hills.” He stopped before her, panting, his dark curls in wild confusion, his gaze unusually intent.

“Congratulations on taking second!” Suddenly bold, Eddi wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his chest in a quick hug. Mistake! He was hot and sweaty. “I’m fine.” Trying not to inhale, she stepped back to look up at his stunned face. “So is White. We . . . we went off course, I guess. We landed first on a hilltop, then came here to the gardens.” That much was true.

Not that it mattered. He hadn’t heard a word she said. “Eddi!” His expression held wonder, and his big hands reached out to envelop hers. For a moment she thought he might try to pull her back against him, but he only kissed the top of her head. Straightening, he drew out his cell phone, saying, “I’ll call a groom to take your horse. Your parents are worried sick. I’ve got to get you back to the palace.”

The thought of appearing at the palace with Fidelio appealed—Raquel would be livid—but Eddi laid her hand over his phone, shaking her head. “No, first I’ve got to settle White in the stable. He needs me. I would text my dad if I had my cell phone on me . . .” Guilt that she hadn’t so much as thought of it until that moment made her pause. “You can text him for me, or run to the palace and spread the word, if you’d rather.”

Instead, Fidelio pocketed his phone and fell in step as she headed for the stables. “Mind if I just stick with you? I can’t believe I didn’t notice when you were in trouble, Eddi. I should have gone after you.”

“How could you have known? It all happened behind you. You were focused on winning the race, of course. Who stole the lead from you?”

He let out a sheepish laugh. “That new guy, Chayton Thunderbull, on his little winged Lakota, stole the lead in the last mile. I think I pushed Ruggero too early. But honestly, I haven’t thought once about the race since I heard you were missing. That news hit me like a kick to the gut.” His brown eyes brimmed with sincere emotion. “Little Eduardi, I’m so thankful you’re safe! I nearly went crazy. Don’t ever do that to me again.”

“I certainly don’t intend to.” This ardent version of Fidelio was new. Maybe she should have put her life in danger months ago.

Entering the stable area at his side made her heart swell with even more satisfaction. Several stable hands recognized Eddi and called out their relief at her safe return. And Fidelio, gazing raptly down at her while attempting to match his pace to hers, would have walked into the barn door if she hadn’t tugged him to one side. “Watch out.”

“Oh. I guess we’re here,” he observed, blinking.

He was so cute!

By the time they got White groomed, fed, and bedded down for the evening, Eddi had adjusted to Fidelio’s sudden attentiveness. He rushed to obey her every request and frequently held her gaze and smiled, blushing all the while. Her months of patient waiting for the shy prince to notice her as a woman were finally paying off.

She should have hugged him a long time ago.

However, almost as soon as they entered the palace, he seemed to melt into the swarm of concerned and relieved people. She had half expected that to happen—Fidelio wasn’t into confrontation or drama. But still . . .

Her father rushed forward, gripped Eddi by the shoulders, and nearly shouted in her face. “Edurne Zuri, what were you thinking? Flying off course, losing yourself in in the hills—We’ve been half mad with worry around here! And to hear about it secondhand? That hurt.” Despite his harsh words, King Koldo of Bilbao wrapped her in a fervent embrace. “What happened? How did you get home? Don’t ever do this to me again!” he mumbled against her head.

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