Page 5 of To Steal the Sun

“Isn’t it?” she agreed. “I was amazed the first time I felt Henry’s fur.”

Gwen relaxed even further, and Charlotte was grateful she was present to smooth over the awkward moment for her friend.

“Their fur might be soft, but they also have claws. And teeth.” Natalie’s voice was hard.

Charlotte threw an inquiring look first at her and then at the count.

“The queen has her guards patrol the city after sundown,” the count said. “Anyone fool enough to be caught outside gets scars to remind them of their mistake.”

Gwen sucked in an audible breath.

“The queen has no friends in the city,” Natalie said. “But there are plenty of people who are too scared to oppose her.” She lowered her voice to a mutter. “Cowards.”

“Or perhaps they just have more sense than you,” the count replied, his tone long-suffering.

Did he resent being forced to work with someone so young? Based on Gwen’s brief introduction, he was used to consulting with monarchs.

“Does that mean we’re stuck here until sunrise?” Easton asked, his focus on practicalities.

“That would be wisest,” the count said. “But don’t worry, my grandson will be here soon with food.”

Easton raised his eyebrows. “I thought it wasn’t safe on the streets at night?”

“My grandson is…distinctive,” the count said in a flat voice. “The guards all know him, and none would dare harm him.”

Natalie gave a dramatic sigh, in sharp contrast to the count’s carefully emotionless face and voice.

“You didn’t tell me Emmett was coming,” she said. “I would have left before dark if I’d known that.”

Charlotte threw her a questioning look, and the girl leaned closer, talking in a loud whisper.

“Emmett is seven. And he has a crush on me.” She rolled her eyes.

Charlotte tried and failed to hold back her smile.

“My grandson does not have…” The count sighed, giving up on his denial—either because he knew her claim was true or he knew there was no point trying to reason with Natalie. Charlotte found both options appealingly amusing. It was hard not to like Natalie despite how outrageous she was.

As if on cue, there was a quiet knock on the basement door, giving a moment of warning before it opened. A small figure slipped inside, but his presence was bulkier than his frame warranted thanks to the crutches he maneuvered inside with him. They didn’t slow him down, though. He wielded them like someone with long experience.

“Emmett.” The deep rumble of the count’s bear voice still managed to sound soft and welcoming. The courtier obviously held his grandson in deep affection.

“Did you bring us something yummy, at least?” Natalie asked, her focus on the bag slung over the boy’s shoulder.

From the way Emmett’s eyes brightened as they fell on her and the way his gaze quickly flitted away from her again, Charlotte gathered Natalie had been right about the crush. Her mouth tugged upward. Poor boy.

Emmett unhooked the bag and offered it to Natalie. The older girl took it and immediately began rifling through the contents, muttering to herself. When it became obvious she didn’t have anything else to say to him, Emmett turned to his grandfather.

“Did she really come back? Is she here?” He glanced doubtfully at Charlotte. Despite the late hour, there was enough light in the basement to clearly illuminate her golden coloring. And while he was apparently unfamiliar with the details of his princess’s appearance, he must at least know she was dark-haired.

“I am Princess Gwendolyn,” Gwen said calmly, her bear’s voice lower than her human one although still recognizable to Charlotte’s ear.

Emmett started so badly, he nearly lost his balance. Charlotte’s instinct was to rush forward and help, but the boy had recovered before she could move.

“But…you’re a bear,” he said.

“I hope we can trust you, Emmett,” the count said in a heavy voice.

The boy’s eyes widened even further, and he cast another look toward Natalie as he nodded vigorously.

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