Page 45 of Must Love Scones and Secrets
I sat there for some time, turning Baldur’s advice over in my mind… Tell her the truth and let her decide. It sounded so simple, yet felt impossible. Her life was here. I had presented myself as someone I wasn’t. Loving me came with complications. Even if she forgave the lie, it was too much to ask.
The tavern had begun to fill, and I realized I’d been there longer than intended. Kellen would arrive soon. Rising, I left a few coins on the table and headed outside.
The sun was high now, its warmth a welcome after the tavern’s cool interior. I pulled out the compass bird, unfolding its delicate paper wings.
“Take me to the arched stone bridge to meet with the dryad, Kellen,” I instructed.
The bird fluttered to life, rising a few inches before setting off down the street. I followed, weaving through the growing crowds. After several turns, the bird stopped, hovering before a narrow shop with a weathered sign reading Thorne’s Arcanum.
I could see Rosalyn through the window, her vibrant hair unmistakable even from a distance. She gestured animatedly to an elderly man with a wild mane of silver hair, her expression earnest. The wizard nodded gravely, stroking his beard as he considered her words.
I stepped back into the shadow of a neighboring building, hoping she would not see me there. The compass bird fluttered impatiently.
“Very funny,” I told it. “This is not the time. I need to meet with Kellen.”
The bird circled once, then headed off in another direction. I followed, relief washing over me as we left the wizard’s shop. The last thing I needed was to face Rosalyn before I’d sorted out my thoughts.
The bird led me through twisting lanes and across a small bridge, finally stopping before a familiar storefront. My heart sank. The Sconery and Teashop.
The bird fluttered insistently before the shop.
“My friend, I understand your meaning, but I must meet with Kellen first,” I told the compass bird.
“Looking for something?” a sharp voice asked.
I nearly jumped out of my skin. Turning, I found Winifred behind me, arms crossed, her expression thunderous beneath her enormous hat.
“Winifred,” I stammered. “I was just?—”
“Lurking,” she finished for me. “Again. What game are you playing at, Mister Runeson? Or should I say,PrinceBjorn?”
My blood ran cold. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t insult my intelligence,” she snapped. “I heard that white-bearded giant clear as day. And I’ve seen you skulking around Rosalyn’s shop more than once.”
“I’m not skulking,” I protested weakly. “The bird…” I said, gesturing. “I need to meet Kellen at the arched bridge along the river.”
“It’s that way…” Winifred snapped with annoyance, pointing.
I turned to go, but Winifred stepped into my path.
“Rosalyn is a precious girl, and she has been hurt before. Men who pretended to be something they weren’t…men who lied. She doesn’t need another heartbreak.”
Guilt twisted like a knife in my gut. “I?—”
“She deserves better than being lied to,” Winifred continued sternly. “She deserves someone honest and true. If you’re playing some game or just passing through looking for a dalliance, do the decent thing and leave her alone.”
Each word was like a blow.
“It’s not like that. I care about her.”
“Then why hide who you are?”
“Because being a prince isn’t whoIam,” I said, frustration bleeding into my voice. “It’s a title, a responsibility, a burden—but it’s notme. And it’s all anyoneeversees.”
Winifred studied me, her expression unreadable. “Rosalyn sees more than most,” she said finally. “But you can’t lie to her.”
“And if I tell her the truth? What then? I’m still bound to Frostfjord. I can’t offer her the life she deserves.”
