Page 67 of Love & Letter Charms
She blinked. The pressure beneath her feet had vanished, yet she wasn’t sinking. The silver light beneath the surface seemed to cradle her. She floated there, simply suspended, weightless, the lake itself holding her aloft. She lifted her arms and trailed them slowly across the surface of the glowing water, each movement leaving a faint ribbon of brighter light in its wake.
“There now,” Prince Ryden said softly. “Hardly terrifying, is it?”
“It’s …” A laugh broke from her, light and disbelieving. “It’s marvelous,” she admitted.
“Another dare completed,” he murmured, a smile in his voice. “Well done, my lady.”
They drifted lazily, circling one another in the softly glowing water. Thimble darted over the surface, scattering droplets like diamonds, while Spark—who had caught up to them now that it was no longer raining—remained dry on the bank, muttering dire warnings about impropriety and scandal.
Something brushed against Aurelise’s ankle—a quick, cool flick that made her gasp. “What was that?”
The prince chuckled. “Harmless. The lake’s guardians. Little blue-green creatures. They like to investigate visitors.”
“Investigate? They feel rather more like tickling.”
“They’re fond of mischief. The smaller ones in particular.”
“That explains why they’re swarming you, then, Your Highness.”
He laughed, and she couldn’t help laughing too. And then, as their laughter faded, she found herself still watching him. The silvery glow of the water illuminated his face, catching along the angles of his cheekbones and jaw, making his dark blue eyes appear brighter, with light dancing in their depths.
His gaze lingered on her in return, and the air between them seemed to still. Heat bloomed beneath her skin. She looked down, unable to hold those eyes for long. Sliding further downward, her gaze caught on something just above his collarbone—a faintly puckered mark, irregular, almost star shaped.
“What is that?” she asked before she could stop herself. “That mark—just there.”
He followed her gaze down, and she watched as his expression changed. The humor faded, replaced by something quieter. “Ah. That.”
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I should not have asked. It’s none of my?—”
“No,” he interrupted. “Think nothing of it. A simple scar, nothing more. The result of an accident, years ago.”
Aurelise opened her mouth, then closed it again. She let the silence stand, the only sound the hush of the enchanted water and the soft flutter and splash of Thimble’s wings as she skimmed the water’s surface nearby.
She knew that for something to leave a mark like that, magic must have been involved. It made her wonder what sort of enchantment could cause such harm—but she also knew better than to ask. She drifted a little farther back, her arms gliding through the water in slow, aimless circles, and then?—
His eyes widened suddenly—a flash of alarm—before the world vanished beneath her and she plunged without warning below the surface. Water filled her ears, her nose, and panic seized her chest. She was sinking, she was drowning, she was?—
Strong hands caught her beneath her arms, pulling her up. Her head broke the surface and she gasped, sucking in air as she was hauled against something solid and warm, arms swiftly encircling her waist, holding her secure. For a breathless moment, she looked straight in a pair of dark blue eyes mere inches from her own that reflected every bit of the shock thrumming through her.
Then—“You let me sink!” she sputtered, raising a hand to wipe water from her face.
His expression relaxed. He managed a laugh, though it came out unsteady. “I did not. You were the one who moved farther than I advised. I rescued you, just as I promised.”
In the next breath, awareness struck. Her body waspressed against him, against his very bare, very wet chest, and she could feel every rise and fall of her own. His dark eyes were fixed on her with disarming intensity, droplets of water clinging to his lashes. And his lips—stars above—were parted, devoid of their usual teasing curve?—
Then he was moving through the water, and a moment later, her feet touched sand. He released her gently, making sure she was steady before moving back.
His lips lifted, the beginnings of a teasing smile returning, though his voice was rough when it emerged. “Enjoyable?”
She blinked in disbelief. “Terrifying!”
“But you survived.”
“Barely!”
“You were perfectly safe,” he said, and there was something sincere in his gaze now, all teasing gone. “I would never allow you to come to harm.”
The words hung between them, weighted with?—
