Page 44 of Stolen Magic

“I always welcome time with you. There’s actually something in the gardens I’d like to show you, something I hope reminds you of home. But only if you’re feeling well enough?”

Something he wanted to show me? Could it be the same place from our first garden stroll? I glanced down at his sleeve I still held, the warmth of his arm radiating through. I’d convinced myself that his forgetting that we’d held hands was an unfortunate coincidence, a casualty lost in the confusion stirred by seeing Gwendolyn, sacrificed to the broader sweep of the spell.

But this was different. If he had forgotten the entire outing—a memory far removed from the moment I’d tried to erase—then the spell had taken more than I intended. My breath caught at the sudden possibility that in shielding him from the truth of the real princess, I had accidentally erased every recollection of that day from his mind.

I suddenly felt ill, pain that had nothing to do with the lingering weakness in my limbs, extending beyond the complications it would create in my plan. I swallowed the rising ache. I couldn’t be sure unless I confirmed that the precious moment had truly vanished, which would only come if I revisited the setting from the memory.

At my extended hesitation, he shifted uncertainly. “Our outing can wait. I know you’re still recovering.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but suddenly remembered what I’d been doing when the prince discovered me. How had I let my concern with his retaining his memory of our interactions overshadow my interrupted discovery of my mother’s magic? I needed to continue my investigation as soon as possible, and Callan had just offered me an excuse.

Yet for some reason I couldn’t force myself to end this moment.

“I want to.” The words left my lips with more urgency than I’d intended. “It’s not too far. I would enjoy some air.”

His brow creased with concern. “You’re rather pale and barely steady on your feet.” He considered the matter before an idea lit his soulful blue eyes. He stepped close and gently swept me into his arms before I could protest.

“Callan—!”

“If you’re determined to come, then I’m determined to carry you.” His tone allowed no debate.

Cradled against him, I curled closer, unable to stop the conflicting emotions raging within me. I was no longer chasing magic, nor chasing lost memories he no longer had—but the desperate, dangerous hope of building new ones in their place.

CHAPTER 16

The gardens were quiet in the early twilight, steeped in dusky violet hues and the perfume of soft-blooming vines. Callan carried me through a narrow archway twined with ivy, his hold steady and his steps careful. Already, the moment I was so desperate to recreate had shifted into something different—softer, more intimate, despite the magical chaperone that followed on silent paws, casting reproving glances at me. But I could scarcely register Myst’s presence when Callan was so close.

The tranquil beauty of the grounds was lost to my hyperawareness of his proximity. I tried to calm the rapid pounding of my heart that had begun the moment he’d lifted me into his arms, but it was impossible with his warmth surrounding me, the rhythm of his breath brushing against my hair.

I repeatedly reminded myself that getting close to him was just a strategy—a way to ensure his affections remained fixed on me until I reclaimed what was stolen. But now, enveloped in his strength, I felt anything but in control. He held me with such ease, as if I belonged there…and for a moment, I wanted nothing so much as to truly belong with him.

I wasn’t supposed to experience the affection I thought had died the day I lost Mother. Yet with each step he took deeper into the garden, it became harder to believe his kindness was just a weapon to be used against me. In this moment, as dusk fell around us and his arms remained firm and unwavering, I realized I had been so focused on pretending to win his heart, I hadn’t noticed how quietly he’d begun to carry the bruised, fragile heart I’d buried long ago.

His steady heartbeat thudded softly beneath my ear, and for a few precious seconds, I let myself believe it could be real—that he sawme, not the princess I impersonated, and that he would still hold me even if he knew the truth. I rested my cheek against his shoulder, eyes drifting closed just long enough to pretend this moment wasn’t borrowed or built atop lies and stolen memories…that I was someone who could build a life with the prince rather than the thief who’d stolen something precious from the very man I meant to deceive.

I reminded myself that as much as I yearned to remain in this tender moment forever, the spell over his mind was weakening—though he looked at me as if he saw a future of forever, one spark of memory from Gwendolyn’s eyes was all it would take to burn it all down. But though I knew this tenderness was a mistake, I let him carry me deeper into the garden and into a memory that didn’t belong to me anymore and was gradually slipping away.

I forced myself to pull back in his arms just enough to regain the smallest piece of control. I couldn’t afford to be lost in this—not when my time as his fiancée was borrowed, and already running out.

His brows furrowed, as if finally noticing how lightheaded our proximity made me. His arms adjusted around me with gentle care. “My apologies, this position is likely not very comfortable,” he murmured, his voice as soft as the dusk. “We’re almost there.”

He smiled down at me and I carefully tucked it away in my undeserving heart. After what felt like an eternity he finally slowed.

“Do you think you can walk now?”

My first instinct was to plead for him to keep carrying me, but I forced myself to nod, swallowing the ache our separation stirred when he carefully set me down and steadied me on my feet. We'd only ventured a few steps when I stilled. I recognized this secluded path lined with enchanted lanterns from not many days past.

Desperation had sealed off the corner of his mind that used to preserve this moment, chasing away the memories of the true Gwendolyn to protect the lie I’d woven. And in doing so, I had destroyed a piece ofus—a small, quiet moment I hadn’t realized I cherished until it was gone.

If he had forgotten this memory we once shared, what else had my spell erased from his mind? I needed to find out, even as the answer terrified me.

He slowed, bestowing the tender worry I so coveted. “Do you not have enough strength after all?”

As painful as reliving this moment would undoubtedly be, I needed to see if the place would stir something in him—or if it had only ever belonged to me and was now truly gone. “I’m fine. I want to see the area that’s so special to you.” With this reassurance we continued forward, each step along the cobblestones like venturing backwards in time to the first evening of our courtship.

It was like stepping into a precious dream whose details had been subtly altered. Magic thrummed softly through the glimmering air. I recognized the curve of the flowerbeds, the enchantment woven into the lanterns, the illusion-spell laced into the moonlight to coax the blossoms into bloom. Yet thistime the beauty touched me in a new way, different than before, evidence for my shifting feelings for the man beside me.

Wonder flickered across my face before I could school it away. He caught it and his eyes lit with the same quiet joy I remembered. “Beautiful, isn’t it? This is my favorite place on the palace grounds. There’s something here I prepared especially for you.”

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