Page 2 of The Mirror in the Mountain

Coolly, I raised an imperious brow. “You’ll have to do better than that. But I suppose it’s only fair to give you a chance to earn it.”

I spun around, a destination already in mind. I shouldn’t do this. Yet the warning bells that should have been blaring in my mind at slipping away with a stranger were strangely silent. Blindly, I reached behind me on instinct, not bothering to look back because somehow, I knew I wouldn’t need to. His hand found mine, nearly swallowing my own, before I could make it off the balcony.

The High Queen’s fete nearly deafened me as we reentered the ballroom, the merriment seemingly rowdier in the mere minutes I had missed. I ducked behind the tables overflowing with ostentatious piles of food and drink, unwilling to attract the attention of my father, or one of my ladies now twirling on the dance floor. No one looked our way as I quickly led us into a back hallway, the sudden silence now that we were far enough from the lively, enchanted music making my ears ring. My body heated at the steady presence behind me. There was something so forbidden about sneaking away with his hand entwined in mine, especially now that we were truly alone.

“You know your way around,” he said slowly. There was an unasked question there. But a familiar voice broke through the silence, echoing down the hallway.

In a flash, I shoved the Esterran into an alcove, pressing myself back against him to keep out of sight as Queen Amerie’s nasal voice answered my father’s demurring tone. Likely another monotonous conversation about their plans for me, with my father trying to twist my life to his own benefit. They were the last two people I wanted to run into, let alone in such a compromising position.

I jolted, suddenly innately aware of how close I was to a virtual stranger. He had circled his arm around my waist, hisfingers firm against my stomach. The heat of his breath puffed against the nape of my neck, and a shiver coursed down my spine in stark contrast to the warmth of his body wrapped around mine.

He bent his head, the tip of his nose just barely brushing against my skin before his low, deep voice rumbled between us. “I think they’re gone now. Though I’m happy to pretend they aren’t should you like to stay like this a bit longer.”

I jumped away from him, feeling my cheeks heat as I whirled around.

He was smirking at me, that one-sided dimple teasing. “Was that not the destination you had in mind?”

My jaw worked as I forced my thoughts away from the way I had perfectly fit against him. “Hardly. Keep up, will you?”

Turning on my heel, my layered skirts twirling against my slippered feet, I hurried down the hallway, light bouncing off the sparkling beads decorating the corseted bust of my gown. My companion caught up in a few long strides, his fingers brushing against mine. I jerked my hand back as that strange energy danced between us yet again, leaving a tingling static in its wake. Was it his magic reaching out to mine? If so, I was hardly going to give him the satisfaction of asking if he felt it too, let alone if he understood its meaning.

The hallway remained thankfully empty as I took us down a spiral staircase that led to the training yard, a regular haunt of mine during these courtly visits, of which there were far too many. The High Queen was adamant in her demand to ‘watch my progress’ in both my magical and my courtier’s training, and my father all too eager to mingle at court.

Wordlessly, I grabbed two time-worn practice swords, then headed toward the outdoor sparring ring, my body thrumming with anticipation from the unspoken challenge. The fading sunshine filtered through the treetops, bathing the ring in anotherworldly glow. My companion dutifully followed a half-step behind. His eyebrow raised as I lifted a sword and pointed it at him, before smoothly flipping it downward to offer its hilt.

“I hope you know your way around a sword.” The statement was casual, though the teasing timbre of my voice was perhaps a bit more sensual than I intended. I saw the flash of delight in his eyes as I tossed the sword to him before he could respond. He caught it easily, then settled into a fighting stance to match my own. “Because the first one to disarm the other gets what they asked for.”

His eyes darkened when he realized I hadn’t specified between my name and a kiss. But I was the Faerie Princess of the North, so it hardly mattered what he wanted as I wasn’t going to let him win.

We circled each other, and instead of waiting for an opening, I lunged in eagerly, our swords clashing as he parried my blow. I tried to ignore the intensity of his gaze as we fought yet found myself unable to tear my eyes from his. We exchanged strikes in a relentless dance, neither gaining the upper hand. My respect for his swordplay was rapidly growing, as I had been trained by the best, and yet he was proving to be a worthy opponent.

When we came apart, I feigned a high parry before ducking under his sword arm. My opposite hand slipped through the folds in my skirt, nimbly unsheathing the small dagger I always kept on my person as I twisted to face him. My blade was at his neck before he could react. In response, he dropped his sword to the ground with a hollow thump, and then hauled me into his arms. He held me against his hard body, only my dagger between us, both of our chests heaving.

“My name is Adrian,” he whispered, his warm breath tickling my mouth.

I didn’t bother to drop my weapons when I kissed him, hard. His mouth eagerly met mine, our mouths parting, tonguesparrying in a different sort of battle. But even as I was swept away from the force of the kiss, his name sparked in the recesses of my mind. I pulled back, keeping my dagger firmly at his throat.

“You’re one of the princelings from Esterra.”

Adrian frowned slightly, his throat bobbing against my blade, but carefully nodded, his eyes still on my mouth. His hand curled against my cheek, the other tightening against the small of my back, like it was all he could do to stop himself from pulling me back against him.

“I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage in more ways than one,” Adrian murmured in that sinfully accented drawl. “For while it feels like my soul knows yours, I still don’t know your name.”

I smirked, lowering my sword to my side. “Now, those weren’t our terms. Unless you’d like another round?”

“That’s exactly what I want,” he confirmed bluntly, pure longing darkening his gaze.

Adrian’s thumb brushed my bottom lip, and I gasped when he tugged me back against him, his lips taking their place. I moaned into his mouth as I dropped my sword with a thud so I could drag my fingers through his hair. A flare of heat roiled through me as I finally pulled my dagger away, holding it limply at my side. He groaned, his fingers twisting into my dress, hitching it up slightly like he needed me closer?—

“Princess Estelle!” The shocked voice of one of the queen’s ladies cut through our embrace, and I jumped back, though not before Adrian caught my free hand. I could feel the moment the name registered, his grip tightening slightly as he froze, my name a whisper on his lips. And I looked at him—at the shock slackening his features as he realized exactly who he had kissed.

His wide eyes crinkled at the corners. “Princess, huh?”

The way his low voice sinfully stretched out my title, each syllable enunciated, sent shivers down my spine. My mouth quirked. “Took you long enough, Princeling.”

The ladies’ maid was still squawking something about propriety from the doorway, and I nodded my head placatingly at her lecture as I collected myself. Still appearing scandalized, she shrilly screeched, “The High Queen requests your presence immediately, Princess.” With a bobbed curtsy, she turned to lead the way.

“Then we’d better go,” Adrian said, his hand still in mine as he led me toward the door, that devilish smile firmly back in place.

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