Five more steps.
Two.
“Wait!” I cry out.
Galinor turns, and I run into his arms. He crushes me against his chest, lifting me up. Our eyes lock, and we both knowthisis our moment. It’s all the time we’re allowed—and I will not waste it.
Before he can do the chivalrous thing and let me go, I press my lips to his. For half a heartbeat, he hesitates, startled…but then he returns my kiss.
My breath catches when Galinor’s lips move againstmine in a desperate goodbye. It’s bittersweet and beautiful, perfect but heartbreaking.
And over too soon.
“You’ve meant everything to me, Galinor.” I gasp back tears. “I can’t tell you.”
He holds me tightly and presses his lips to mine just once more.
Finally, I let him go. He slowly releases me, and we stare at each other, breathing hard, broken hearts racing.
With a final nod, he turns down the steps and mounts his waiting horse. I remain at the manor’s entry, watching until he disappears down the lane.
“I love you,” I whisper, but he’s already gone.
Several minutes later, I turn my back on the lane. With a deep breath, I open the heavy door and walk into my cold, empty home.
Chapter 25
The last of the leaves fall from the brush. The snow blankets the ground and then melts, and tiny white wildflowers bloom. Spring in Primewood is pleasant, but I find very little joy in it.
I open the door to Father’s room. “I have your soup.”
He’s frail. The few months under the curse robbed years of his life. He rarely leaves his room now, and when he does, he wanders the halls, speaking to Mother.
We miss her.
I’m no longer as angry as I was when I found out she knew she would die. I’m not even angry she brought the curse on us all. I, too, almost flirted with magic while trying to find Dimitri. Desperation leads to bad judgment. Bad judgment leads to pain.
I feed Father and ask him about his day. Now that the weather is warm, he sits at the window for hours letting the sun shine on him.
“The birds are returning,” he says. “They are making nests.”
I nod and offer him another bite of soup.
He turns his tired eyes on me. “Why hasn’t your prince returned?”
I look down. “He went home, Father.”
“The servants have whispered of a possible engagement.”
My gaze flickers back to him.
“I’m still here, Anwen,” he says. “I know what goes on around me.”
I work up a smile, and I pat his arm. “I’m happy taking care of you.” I let the spoon rest in the bowl. “Tomorrow, we could sit outside and watch the birds if you like.”
“I have servants to take care of me. It doesn’t have to be you.” He pauses. “You’ve sent him away, haven’t you?”
My smile falters.
