“Wow,”I breathe, turning in a slow circle.
“Told you.” Alden’s smile is small but genuine. “Nothing beats this view.”
He’s right. I lean forward on the turret, brush a windswept curl out of my face, and squint my eyes toward the horizon. From up here, the Alps look so close I could practically reach out and touch them. All of Vasgaard is spread out in the valley beneath us, a colorful carpet of red slate roofs and smoking chimneys. The Nelle River snakes along like a brown garden snake, its many bends and stone bridges a striking sight from this vantage.
When Alden showed up at my bedroom door a half hour ago and volunteered to show me his favorite spot in the castle, I must admit I was skeptical. I assumed he’d bring me to the Great Hall, with its vaulted ceilings and gold-gilded throne… or the armory, to fawn over the impressive collection of medieval weaponry… or the stables, to butter me up with the help of a few glossy-eyed horses.
Instead, he led me down the hall to a massive wall tapestry bearing the double-headed Lancaster lion crest. Pulling an ornate key from his pocket, he pushed the thick fabric aside and proceeded to unlock a narrow door I never knew existed.
Trust me,he said, holding out his hand.It’s worth it.
Wide-eyed, I placed my hand in his strong, warm grip, then followed him down a dim, cobwebbed hallway. We passed through another door into a pitch-black spiral stairwell, its stone steps worn smooth over hundreds of years. Up, up up we climbed, only the light of Alden’s cellphone to illuminate the ascent, until we reached top of the tallest turret of Waterford Palace.
To be honest, I’d begun to doubt anything would possibly be worth the burning in my thighs after three hundred steps… but as soon as we scampered through the thick wooden door into the small round spire, I forgot about my sore muscles altogether.
The view is, quite simply, incredible.
“I didn’t even know people could come up here,” I say, awed. “I thought it was sealed off years ago.”
“Not sealed, per se. Just… discouraged from public use. It’s not on the sanctioned castle tour, that’s for sure. ”
I move to the other side of the tower, eyes fixed on distant skies. “Will they throw us in the dungeons for trespassing, then?”
He laughs. “You? Certainly not. You’re the princess. Technically, you own this turret.Me, on the other hand…”
“Don’t worry. I’ll use my vast authority to spring you loose.”
“How very benevolent of you, Your Royal Highness.” Teasing me, he bows low at the waist, wrist flourishing in a well-practiced gesture. It’s so smoothly done, I can’t help smiling. Genuinely smiling. For the first time in weeks.
I’m stunned to find I’m actually enjoying myself. It’s so good to be out of my room, standing on top of the world with a handsome man who isn’t at all complicated, who doesn’t make my mind spin with torturous thoughts or my heart race with treacherous feelings. I lean into the wind, letting it clear out my head. Hoping it might erase a set of blue, blue, blue eyes from the deepest vaults of my memory.
After a few minutes, a thought occurs to me. I turn to ask, “How did you get a key?”
And how do I get one for myself?
“It’s not mine, it’s Henry’s. We come up here all the time… I mean,cameup here all the time. It was—” he breaks off mid-sentence, all light extinguished from his expression in the space of a few seconds .
“I’m sorry,” I murmur. “I know the two of you are close.”
His hazel eyes flash with thoughts I can’t decipher. “We are. It’s been… quite difficult.”
“It’s not the same, but… I lost my mom very suddenly two years ago. I didn’t get to say goodbye because, even that last day, I didn’t think it was real. Itcouldn’tbe real. She simplycouldn’tbe dying.” I swallow the lump building in my throat. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, I understand how hard it can be — what you’re going through, right now. And I realize we don’t know each other very well but, if you ever need someone to talk to…” I gesture around. “My turret is always open.”
His smile returns. He takes a few steps toward me, hazel eyes never shifting away from mine. “Thank you, Emilia. I will definitely take you up on that offer.Soon.”
He reaches out his hand for mine. After a moment’s hesitation, I place my palm against his. My heart flutters slightly as he laces our fingers together. And it feels… unquestionably nice.
Not like my heart might explode inside my chest from trying to contain all my emotions at once. Not like I’m at risk for having a stroke from the sheer strain of standing in his space. Not like my lungs aren’t working properly because I keep forgetting to breathe around him.
Simple.
Easy.
Uncomplicated.
“Shall we descend?” he asks. Up close, his eyes have flecks of green and gold. They’re stunning.
So why do I keep wishing they were blue?