Page 8 of Apples Dipped in Gold

“Have I been kind to you?”

“I hardly know you,” I said.

“Would you give me time to show you I can be kind?”

“We will not see each other again beyond this moment,” I said.

“Because you intend to die?”

“Yes,” I said. “But even if I lived.”

He paused for a moment, inching closer. I consideredwhat I would do if he reached for me. Would I jump to spite him, or let him pull me close?

“Would you be treated poorly if I saw you again?”

I did not answer.

“What if I took you from this place?”

I was surprised by the sound that came out of my mouth—a guttural laugh.

“I could not leave even if I wanted to.”

“Why not?”

“Because—” I started, but when I could think of no reason, I paused. “Just because.”

“I would keep you safe,” he said.

“I do not even know that word,” I said. “And I do not know you.”

He held my gaze with those beautiful blue eyes. They were startling, and while I had never seen the eyes of the fae I had yearned for the last seven years, they reminded me that I had once dreamed of meeting his gaze and discovering his eyes were the same icy shade.

The man extended his hand.

I did not take it, but he waited.

Finally, I relented, startled by how soft his fingers were, and I immediately felt flushed, aware of how rough my own were.

“I am Prince Henry from the Kingdom of Rook,” he said and pressed his lips to my red and swollen knuckles. Then he lifted his gaze to mine and smiled. “Now we are not strangers.”

“Your name does not make us anything more than acquaintances,” I said.

“Usually when one offers a name, the courteous thing to do is give yours,” he said.

“You must do this often then,” I said.

“Meet strange girls in the woods who want to end their life? No,” he said. “I must admit, this is a first for me.”

I tried not to smile at him.

I didn’twantto smile at him.

“Samara,” I said.

“Samara,” he repeated, grinning. “Was that so hard?”

“Terribly,” I replied.

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