Page 6 of To Steal the Sun

“Of course, Grandfather. I would never say anything, you know that.” He faltered. “But…why is she a bear? I thought…”

“That I was a princess so pure the enchantment couldn’t touch me?” Gwen interjected in sour tones.

Charlotte made a revolted face, knowing Gwen was repeating her mother’s words. Gwen might be attempting a façade of calm, but Charlotte knew how deeply her mother had hurt her, and how much Gwen hated being the tool the queen had used against her people.

Emmett stared at Gwen in bewilderment, and Easton drew even closer to her, his air protective. Charlotte couldn’t help smiling at the incongruous sight given Gwen’s size and current possession of sharp teeth. She had known Easton for less than a day, but he was clearly as devoted to Gwen as the princess was to him.

The thought of the pair’s reunion after so many years gave Charlotte joy, but it came hand in hand with an uncomfortable pang. How long would her separation from Henry be? Even if it took years, she would endure it—although she wasn’t sure how. She didn’t want to think about being separated from him for so long.

“You’re a dependable lad, Emmett,” Count Oswin said, “but you’re still a child. There are a great many things I haven’t confided in you.”

“You obviously knew,” Gwen said quietly to the count. “About me turning into a bear like everyone else.”

The count nodded. “Not initially. But my son was the one leading the expedition that brought Prince Henry across the mountains. Although Queen Celandine kept his presence as quiet as possible, she had to allow a few of us into her confidence. We were pressing for a wedding to take place immediately since she had claimed that was what would free us all from the enchantment. She countered by insisting that he needed to be included in the enchantment first. And then when it went wrong and turned him into a bear during the day, she had to explain why the ceremony couldn’t be performed at night when he was human.”

Natalie had extracted all the food from the bag while he spoke, and she soon had everyone seated in approximation of their previous circle as she distributed the meal. There were a few moments of silence as everyone began eating, but Charlotte was too confused to let the conversation drop.

“Why couldn’t the ceremony happen while one of them was a bear?” Charlotte asked, not understanding the issue. “Henry and I were married while he was in his bear form.”

The count raised his eyebrows. “Then I can only assume valley weddings are much simpler affairs than mountain ones.”

Charlotte suddenly remembered Henry’s initial question to her—back when she had only known him as a bear. He had even mentioned that some places had more elaborate ceremonies.

“Among other things,” the count continued, “a mountain bride and groom must each wash a dirty shirt belonging to the other.”

“Your marriage ceremony includes washing dirty clothing? By hand? On the spot?” Charlotte realized too late that her astonishment might seem rude. Thankfully the count responded stoically.

“As you can imagine, it isn’t something that can be done with paws like these. However, it is an essential part of our ceremony. It symbolizes starting a new, fresh future together.”

“That’s what they say,” Easton interjected. “But I’m pretty sure it’s an ancient conspiracy to make sure no mountain lady finds herself married to a man who doesn’t know how to do his own laundry.”

He delivered the words with such a serious air that they surprised a giggle out of Gwen, the vaguely threatening rumble reminding Charlotte of Henry.

Easton smiled back at Gwen, his eyes warm. “I’ve missed your laugh,” he said softly, his words clearly meant for her ears only.

Charlotte looked away, uncomfortable to be intruding on their moment. Tears built up behind her eyes. She ached for the sense of familiar companionship that existed between Gwen and Easton—the closeness she had experienced for herself for a few short months. She ached for Henry.

“I think it’s silly.” Natalie wrinkled her nose. “You put on the nicest dress you’re ever going to wear in your life and then you have to do laundry?”

“I’m surprised the queen didn’t just change the law about weddings,” Easton said.

“That assumes she actually wanted us to get married,” Gwen said. “But since she had lied about my marriage to a prince breaking the enchantment, the last thing she wanted was to have the wedding actually happen and be proved a liar in front of the entire kingdom. She’s been using delaying tactics for the last ten years, so she must have been delighted when it affected Henry differently. She was trying everything possible to delay, hoping something would come up to her advantage, and it did. The reversal in the enchantment for him was a convenient tool for her.”

“And now she knows the truth of breaking the enchantment thanks to Prince Henry’s godmother, but she still wants the wedding to go ahead,” the count mused. “At least she’s searching for you as frantically as if she wanted it to. Why is she still committed to the marriage?”

“I don’t think that has anything to do with the enchantment.” Gwen drew her words out, as if she didn’t want to say them. “Or at least, only a little. Our potential marriage has become about what she intends to do after the enchantment is broken.”

The count’s whole body went still, and it was somehow more intimidating than if he’d made a threat—a reminder that he was currently wearing the form of a very large predator.

“She wants to send you away to Arcadia, doesn’t she?” the count asked slowly. “She doesn’t intend to ever give you the mountain throne. It’s what we’ve been afraid of for years, but we didn’t have any choice. At least we thought we didn’t have a choice if we wanted to break the…” His voice trailed off, and his eyes moved to his grandson.

Charlotte frowned. She was definitely missing something here. Possibly multiple somethings.

“Actually, she wants me to marry Prince Henry so I have a claim to the Arcadian throne,” Gwen said, eliciting several gasps. “Obviously she intends for us to be puppet rulers, and it doesn’t seem like her ambition ends with Arcadia. She sees herself in the role of empress. She talked about her kingdom stretching to the sea.”

The count surged upward to stand on four feet. “Queen Celandine dreams of conquest?” A low, menacing growl rolled through the room.

Charlotte gulped, her back straightening. She had never lived in Arcadia, but she had spent years in Northhelm and Rangmere and had met honest, friendly, hardworking people in both places. Were their lives about to be overrun with war? Was Henry’s kingdom about to be attacked?

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