Page 49 of Love & Letter Charms
“No, of course not,” Aurelise agreed, but her fingers traced the words on the paper. “I suppose,” she said slowly, “stargazing isn’t inherently improper. And if this sky garden is as secluded as you say …”
Perfectly secluded!Thimble assured her.
She glanced at the letter again, at R’s teasing postscript about her inevitable excuses. Something in his words—that frustrating, knowing certainty about her character—pricked at her pride. “Very well,” she decided suddenly. “Just this once. Just the first dare. If only to prove to R that I’m not quite as predictable as he believes.”
ADVENTURE!Thimble squealed, zooming around the room in victorious circles.
Disaster, more likely, Spark muttered, but Aurelise noticed he was already moving toward the door.If we really are doing this, then you’ll need to wear something more substantial than your nightgown.
Aurelise glanced down at herself, mortification washing through her anew. “Oh! Yes, of course.” She hurried to the sitting area and caught up her shawl from the back of one of the chairs. She pulled it close around her shoulders, its fringe brushing her bare ankles as she moved to the door.
Your hair, Spark observed critically.It looks like you’ve been wrestling with your pillows.
Aurelise reached up to find her braid had indeed come largely undone, dark strands falling around her shoulders in disarray. She attempted to smooth it back, but without proper pins or ribbons, there was little to be done.
Leave it!Thimble insisted.You look romantically disheveled! Like the heroine of a gothic novel!
“I daresay that is hardly the impression a lady of quality ought to cultivate,” Aurelise muttered, pulling the shawl tighter around herself. “Now, how exactly does one sneak through a palace?”
As it turned out, sneaking through a palace with two magical companions who knew every servant’s routine, every guard’s rotation, and every creaking floorboard to avoid was surprisingly manageable. Thimble flew ahead, scouting for any late-night wanderers, while Spark provided a running commentary on the architectural history of various corridors, apparently finding the whole endeavor beneath his dignity but participating nonetheless.
Behind a heavy tapestry depicting some ancient dance of the fae, they found a narrow doorway and a spiraling stair beyond.The air was cool and faintly dusty, the walls broken here and there by narrow windows that let in slivers of starlight. Aurelise gathered her nightgown in one hand, her other hand still clutching the dare list letter as she wound her way upward.
Finally, Thimble whispered,Here!and Aurelise looked up to see a door of weathered wood, its surface inlaid with tiny panes of colored glass. The brass latch was cool beneath her fingers. She pushed it open and stepped out onto?—
“Oh,” she breathed, wonder temporarily eclipsing her anxiety.
Before her stretched a hidden sanctuary in the sky, intimate and enchanting. Stone paths wound between raised beds where flowers unfurled faintly luminescent petals. The gentle trickle of water drew her attention to a small fountain carved from pale stone that seemed to glow beneath the starlight, and beyond it sat a weathered stone bench near the terrace railing, offering an unobstructed view of both the palace gardens and the night sky.
And the stars … Aurelise tilted her head back, her lips parting in awe. Thousands upon thousands of stars scattered across the velvet darkness, some burning bright and steady, others flickering like distant candles. The constellation of the Silver Swan spread its wings directly above her, while the Archer’s Arrow pointed toward the horizon.
She took a few steps forward, still gazing up, overwhelmed by the vastness of it all. Here, finally, was something larger than her anxieties, older than her fears, more eternal than?—
A soft sound behind her made her freeze. The creak of a door, a footstep on stone.
She spun around, her heart leaping into her throat, and in her startled panic, her foot caught on the edge of the path. She teetered for one terrible moment between balance and catastrophe before pitching sideways into a flowerbed with a startled cry. The letter flew from her hand as she crashed into acluster of luminous blooms, their petals bursting into showers of silver sparks upon impact.
“My lady?”
The voice—masculine, familiar, and far too amused—confirmed her worst fears before she even raised her mortified gaze. Prince Ryden stood over her, moonlight silvering his midnight-blue hair and catching on the elegant lines of what appeared to be a riding jacket. She’d seen Evryn in similar gear in the past, returning from what he believed to be his secret late-night pegasus rides.
The prince extended a hand to assist her, but Aurelise was already scrambling to her feet, brushing frantically at the silver pollen that now dusted her nightgown and shawl.
“Your Highness,” she stammered, flushing so deeply she feared her face might permanently retain the color. “I didn’t—that is—I was merely—” She cast about desperately for a plausible explanation for her presence, her state of undress, and her graceless dive into the sky garden flowerbeds.
“Taking the night air?” he suggested helpfully, his lips curved in that infuriatingly charming smile.
“Well, I …”
The words died in her throat as she watched Prince Ryden bend to retrieve something from among the crushed blossoms. Her heart plummeted as she recognized the somewhat crumpled sheet of paper, now lightly dusted with luminescent pollen.
“I believe you dropped this,” he said, his gaze dropping to the paper as he straightened.
“Thank you,” she managed, reaching for it with frantic haste.
But he didn’t immediately relinquish the letter. Instead, his brow furrowed slightly, his attention caught by what was clearly visible at the top of the page. “The Dare List?” he read aloud, his voice lilting with newfound interest.
Aurelise briefly contemplated throwing herself over the garden railing. Surely death would be kinder than this particular humiliation.
