Page 37 of Love & Letter Charms
He offered his arm, and she placed her gloved hand upon it with the lightest possible touch, keeping a strictly proper distance between the two of them. Yet even so, he was near enough that she caught the faint scent lingering about him—something woodsy and … forest fresh. It wasn’t what she expected. For all his reputation, she thought he’d smell less like clean, woodland and more like trouble.
They stepped outside and followed a gravel path that wound between hedges and meticulously maintained flowerbeds.
“I trust you’re finding your accommodations suitable?” the prince inquired as they walked, and Aurelise couldn’t help wondering if this was the ninth time he’d asked this exact same question.
“Yes, thank you,” she replied, her voice so quiet she wondered if he could hear her. She cleared her throat as delicately as possible and added, “My suite is lovely.”
“Excellent. And your companions? Are they … helpful?”
A memory of that morning flashed through her mind. Thimble and Spark locked in a heated debate about whether she should employ a strategic ‘fainting spell’ during her walk with the prince.
It’s FOOLPROOF!Thimble had insisted, wings fluttering with excitement as she demonstrated by dramatically swooning onto Aurelise’s hairbrush.The prince catches you, carries you dramatically back to the palace—ROMANCE BLOOMS!
Meanwhile, Spark had looked positively mortified, tiny puffs of glittery smoke escaping his nostrils as he demolished his third custard kiss.The indignity of it all, he’d muttered.Our Lady Aurelise, pretending to succumb to vapors like some melodramatic stage actress!
The entire scene had unfolded as Marta arranged Aurelise’s hair, the maid’s reflection in the mirror betraying her struggle against laughter, her shoulders quivering with the effort of maintaining composure even as Thimble detailed exactly which garden location would provide the softest landing spot.
“They are …” Aurelise searched for an appropriate word. “Entertaining.”
To her surprise, the prince laughed. A genuine sound that held no trace of the performative charm she’d observed at dinner the previous night. “That’s a diplomatic description. Which of our illustrious magical menagerie have been assigned to your service?”
“Thimble and Spark.” She paused, wondering if she needed to describe them, but Prince Ryden spoke before she could continue.
“Ah,Sparkle, though he’d attempt to incinerate me for revealing his true name. It’s been a source of embarrassment to him his entire life.”
Aurelise blinked at the prince. “You know him?”
“I know most of the palace companions. They’ve been fluttering, scampering, and setting things ablaze around me since before I could walk. They’re as much a part of Solstice Hall—and our palace in the Shaded Lands—as the walls themselves. Though considerably more opinionated.”
He leaned slightly toward her then, his expression shifting to something warmer and more intimate, as if inviting her to share in a secret. “Did you know Spark and Thimble are cousins? Though it’s still unclear to me how a mouse and a dragon manage to be related.”
Aurelise found herself leaning fractionally away, creating just enough distance to establish a proper boundary without appearing rude. “I thought it best not to ask,” she admitted. “It seemed impolite to pry into their family history.”
“Ah, you are far more considerate than I, then. I’ve been attempting to extract the truth since I was eight years old. They once spent an entire afternoon constructing an elaborate family tree, but I confess the explanation contained so many contradictions and improbable magical accidents that I emerged more confused than when I began.”
Aurelise smiled despite herself, a soft laugh escaping her lips before she schooled her features back to polite attentiveness. She cast a curious sidelong glance at him, noting with mild surprise that he appeared genuinely engaged in their exchange, his demeanor more animated than she would have anticipated for what must surely be the ninth near-identical conversation of the afternoon. Perhaps it was simply the relief of approaching the finish line—with only Lady Ellowa remaining after herself—that had infused his manner with this unexpected vitality.
They came to a stop near a spectacular display of roses—deep crimsons mixed with pale pinks and pristine whites, their petals so perfect they might have been painted rather than grown. The familiar scent wrapped around her like an old friend’s embrace, and for a moment, her nerves settled.
Then she remembered why she was here.
She drew a steadying breath, gathering what little courage she possessed, and began to turn toward him—only to catch a flicker of movement at the base of the nearest rosebush. Her heart lurched.No.Surely not.
But yes—there they were. Thimble, perched boldly on a root, beaming up at her with both tiny thumbs raised in triumph, and Spark beside her, puffing a delicate cloud of glittering smoke that coalesced into a perfectly formed heart.
Horror flooded her. She frantically flicked her fingers in what she hoped passed for a subtle shooing motion, mouthingGo away!with desperate intensity.
“My lady?” the prince prompted. “Is something amiss?”
She whirled to face him with alarming speed, positioning herself squarely between him and the incriminating rosebush, her smile so wide and sudden it bordered on alarming. “Nothing at all! The roses are simply … magnificent, aren’t they?”
A bemused expression crossed his features. “Indeed they are. The royal garden pixies have outdone themselves this Season.”
“Your Highness, I … I feel I must be direct.” She fixed her gaze somewhere in the vicinity of his impeccably arranged cravat, finding it far safer territory than his face. “I believe it most improbable that you would select me as your bride, but should you, against all reasonable expectation, find yourself inclined toward such a catastrophic decision, I must insist you reconsider. You most assuredly do not wish to choose me.”
There was a beat of silence. “I beg your pardon?” He sounded more intrigued than offended.
“I would be entirely unsuitable,” Aurelise said, forging on despite the heat climbing in her cheeks. “I am ridiculously shy, I dislike large gatherings, I have no talent for sparkling conversation, and I frequently retreat into silence when overwhelmed. These are not qualities becoming a princess.”
