Page 32 of To Charm a Dark Prince

“My power. Not yours. But he’s egotistical enough that it might work. And if it does not, you can attempt to use your feminine wiles against him.”

“Ew, do noteversay that again.” She glared at the cat. “Nobody says shit like that.”

“Yes, they prefer to turn every other word into an obscenity.” The cat walked to the edge of the bed. “The fact remains. Get up and get to work. The longer we wait, the more likely he will put you in the Crystal and be done with you.” He jumped off the bed, vanishing into a wisp of black smoke.

She really hated that damn cat.

For a minute, she shut her eyes and wondered if she would be allowed to just go back to sleep. Her stomach growled. With a surrendering sigh, she gave up. “All right, all right…”

Maybe the guards would let her explore the castle. Maybe she could even explore on her own. That honestly sounded fun—she loved poking around cool places. And she’d never been in a castle before.

Oh! And maybe she’d find breakfast while she was at it. Or lunch. Or dinner. Or whatever meal it was. At least it was daylight. Maybe Mordred would be there.

No, no, no! Bad Gwen!

Climbing out of bed, she pulled on her dress. In the wardrobe by the wall, she located some sandals that she could strap onto her feet and a fur cape that was much more “her size” than the one she had been loaned earlier.

Heading over to the door, she experimentally pulled on it and was a little surprised when it opened. Weren’t prisoners supposed to be kept locked up?

The guards turned to look at her, and she couldn’t help but shrink back an inch at the sight of them. They were just still soweird.Sculpted sentient armor wasn’t supposed to be a thing. Magic wasn’t supposed to be a thing. But here they were. Beautiful works of art—and more than a little creepy.

“Do you need anything, my lady?” one asked. She honestly wasn’t sure which of them it was, since their mouths didn’t move.

“I—um. I was wondering if I could go for a walk?” It sounded dumb, now that she said it. “I didn’t know if I was…supposed to stay here or not.”

The two guards glanced at each other. One shrugged with a quiet clank. The other, who must be the one who spoke the first time, looked back at her. “I would ask that you stay within the keep unless you are escorted.”

“Sounds fair.” She pulled the cape closer around herself. It was chilly. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Mid-morning,” the second one responded.

“Thanks.” She smiled. No reason to be rude. They were being perfectly nice to her. She stepped past them, still feeling a little odd. “I—um. Have a nice day?”

They stared at her silently. Perfectly nice but perfectly weird.

“Good talk,” she muttered, as she headed down the hallway. It was amazing how a few hours of sleep could brighten her mood, even just a little. She didn’t think everything around every corner was going to kill her immediately, which was also helping.

Besides, the idea of exploring a big, spooky old building wasexciting.The place was filled with a billion little nooks and crannies, she was sure of it. She wondered if there were hidden passages—all castles had cool hidden passages, right?

Stopping by a window, she looked out to see where she was. The glass was that kind of wavy, bubbly texture that made it hard to see, but she could make out enough details. The sky was gray and overcast. The castle overlooked a cliff that went out into the ocean, the water so dark blue it was almost black. If she focused, she could hear the waves hitting the cliffs down below them.

A castle on a cliff. How oddly romantic, if a little forlorn.Seems to be the vibe of the place. And its owner.She shooed those thoughts away.

Continuing on her walk, she marveled at the wall-sized tapestries and the enormous paintings that depicted monsters and warriors. Some looked medieval—well, she assumed anyway, she wasn’t a history buff—but some looked more modern. Ish. Give or take. Some of the oil paintings were so dark it was hard to make out what was in them. She wondered if they had aged that way naturally or if it was the intention.

It was in one of the larger rooms that she found someone who didn’t look like sculpted armor. Well, not entirely, anyway. It was the guy from before—the gold one. He wasn’t wearing full plate armor this time, but she figured there were only a few people in the castle who had to be seven feet or more.

The man was sitting down at a table by a window, reading. He had gray hair—actually gray from age, not gray from beingmetallike Mordred—and holy hell if the guy wasn’t justlong.As if sensing her, he looked over at her, and she felt her eyes go wide.

He stood and bowed. “Good morning, my lady.”

There were parts of his skin that were embedded with gold. Not like paint—but like there were parts of him that were just made out of golden armor. It shifted and moved in all the ways that she expected skin to move.

“I—um. Hello.” She smiled nervously. “Sorry to interrupt.”

“No, no. Not at all.” He walked up to her, and she found herself craning her neck to look up at him. He was a few inches taller than Mordred—which was a trick—but a third the width.

“Aren’t you a tall glass of water,” she said through a chuckle. She extended her hand to him. “Gwen. Nice to meet you.”

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