Page 34 of Must Love Scones and Secrets
“Pity, my fog blocked the sun. That stone is mine now.” Rosalyn grinned, taking my green stone. The fog cleared from over the board, and Rosalyn made her next move.
As we played, each move brought new magical surprises. Lightning crackled between stones, miniature rainbows arced across the board, and once, when Rosalyn captured one of my pieces—again—it let out a musical chime that hung in the air for several seconds.
I hadn’t felt this relaxed in…well, possibly ever. Even with the real Master Runeson tending to the unicorns, I was stillPrinceBjorn. The same thing was true when I was on my father’s ships, even though the crew tried to make me feel otherwise. And with Asa, while we had fun, we were still royal siblings. But here, now… No royal duties, no one watching my every move, no need to maintain a princely demeanor. Just a game, a beautiful woman, and the rain outside creating a cocoon around our small sanctuary.
“Ha!” I exclaimed triumphantly when I captured one of her key pieces. The stone glowed bright orange with sunlight, pushing away her rain clouds before dimming again.
“Not bad for a beginner,” she admitted, studying the board with narrowed eyes. “You’re a natural strategist.”
“My brother Magnus would laugh to hear you say that. He’s the mastermind in our family. I spent my entire childhood losing to him in Frost Hnefatafl.”
“Another game?”
“I nodded. Similar concept, different pieces.”
“I’d like to try my hand at that someday,” she said casually, giving me a soft smile.
At that moment, I felt both warmth and dread. The more she learned about my real life, the closer to the truth she would be.
Maybe if I just told her now… Rosalyn didn’t seem like one to judge. She knew what parental pressure felt like. Perhaps shewould understand. I opened my mouth and almost confessed everything, nearly telling her who I was, but fear held my tongue. What if she looked at me differently once she knew? What if the easy comfort between us disappeared? This moment was perfect. Maybe the most perfect moment I’d ever known. The truth could destroy it.
Rosalyn moved another piece, seemingly oblivious to my internal struggle. A tiny burst of colorful butterflies exploded from the stone, circling our heads before fading away.
“I have you now. Your move, Runeson,” she said with a challenging smile.
I moved a red stone diagonally across the board.
Rosalyn frowned when a tiny bookworm, a small dragon known for keeping pests away from books, appeared and chased the butterflies from the board.
“Oh, burnt ends,” she grumbled, then giggled when I took her stone.
“So, why Moonshine Hollow?” I asked her.
“Apprenticeship, originally,” she said, her eyes on the gameboard. “I came to study under Master Baker Brambleberry, but then I fell in love with the town. The way everyone here is accepted for who they are, not what they are…” She captured another of my pieces. “In Spring Haven, I was my mother’s daughter who was not following in her famous mother’s footsteps. Here, I’m Rosalyn, baker extraordinaire and notorious romantic.”
“Notorious, is it?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
She laughed. “Ask anyone. Notorious and disastrous. But if the way this game is going is any indication, maybe my luck’s about to change,” she said, giving me a flirtatious smile. “Your move.”
I glanced down at the board, trying to focus on the game rather than how her words made my heart race. I slid my stoneforward, not entirely surprised when I realized too late it was a tactical error.
“Distracted?” she teased, swiftly capturing my piece. “My secret weapon works again.”
“You have too many unfair advantages,” I protested with a smirk.
“Is that so, Mister Runeson?”
“It is. All of which are verydistracting.”
Rosalyn lowered her lashes and then looked up at me with a warm smile. “Good.”
The game continued, our conversation flowing as easily as the rainwater down the cabin’s roof. She told me about her first cooking disasters as a baker’s apprentice. I shared stories of the magical creatures I’d encountered in the frozen north. I carefully avoided the topics that might reveal too much, but there was an undeniable pull between us.
When she finally captured my moonstone, the game board briefly illuminated with a wash of silver light that bathed her face in an ethereal glow, sending illusory sparks of celebratory confetti upward.
“Victory!” she declared, throwing her arms up in triumph.
“Well played,” I admitted. “Another round?”
