Iris was tracking the movements of the soldiers who surrounded the king. After his speech, he’d ducked his head and spoken to his son in low, quick tones. Iris had a hard time looking away from Prince Henri. She was still reeling with the knowledge that he was the boy from the stable.
Henri’s expression was inscrutable as his father spoke to him, and Iris noted that he said little to the king. Was it a lecture, then? Iris had become quite familiar with them since meeting her relatives.
Finally, the king finished. He stepped back, and his guards were quick to surround him as he moved off the stage, clearly headed for the nearest vendor’s cart.
Henri stood there a moment, his guards at his back. Iris saw the way his fists clenched at his sides, but then his tension slowly released. He faced the crowd, his eyes sweeping the square—until he found her.
Iris’s skin tingled in a peculiar way as their gazes locked.
Slowly, his lips curved. It was a secretive smile, speaking to what they’d shared earlier. Her knees trembled slightly, though she had no idea why.
“Fates,” Anora breathed. “He’s looking right at you, Iris.”
Her aunt’s words snapped her back to reality. She looked away from Prince Henri, settling her attention on her relatives. Even Kell was gawking at her.
“Why is he looking at you?” Lillin asked, her eyes wide.
“I don’t know,” Iris said. And she honestly didn’t. She didn’t know why he looked so fascinated as he stared at her. She certainly didn’t understand why he was sharing a smile with her, or why he hadn’t told her the truth in the stable.
“Have you met before?” Anora asked, sounding a little strangled.
Before Iris could reply, her aunt’s eyes widened on a spot beyond her. “Fates, he’s coming this way.”
Iris’s belly knotted. She twisted to see that her aunt was right—Henri was already off the stage and moving right for them.
“Stay calm,” Anora breathed to them all. “Kell, Lillin—not a word.”
Henri’s smile was full by the time he stopped in front of them, two guards flanking him. Everyone in the vicinity bowed, and Iris, Anora, and Lillin dipped into practiced curtsies.
Iris could feel many eyes on them, though Henri’s focus on her was especially tangible and unrelenting. “Lady Iris,” he greeted smoothly. “It’s lovely to see you again.”
She glanced up at him as she rose from her curtsy. “Indeed,” she said. It was all she could think to say. Her mind was utterly stalled.
The corner of his mouth twitched higher. “You seem a little less verbose than when we last spoke.”
The skin around Iris’s eyes tightened. “I probably said quite enough already, don’t you think?”
Anora paled. Lillin looked positively scandalized. Kell stiffened, and Sevlin shifted to stand just a little closer to Iris.
“Your Highness,” her uncle said. “I didn’t realize you knew my niece.”
Henri regarded Sevlin, and in the absence of his stare, Iris’s breathing evened out somewhat. “Our acquaintance is quite new, Lord Winn. We only met today.” Henri’s attention shifted back to Iris, and his smile widened. “To answer your question, Iris, no—I don’t think you said enough. I’m fascinated to learn more of your views on the world, though I’m afraid I have several obligations today that will keep me quite busy. Will you be at Lord Thatcher’s ball?”
Lillin’s mouth dropped open.
Anora’s eyes couldn’t possibly get any wider.
Iris knew she couldn’t count on them for help. She cleared her throat and focused back on the prince. “Yes, I will be in attendance.”
Henri grinned. “Excellent. I hope you’ll save your first dance for me.” He tipped his head, and without another word he strode away.
The Winn family watched him go, none of them saying a word.
It was Kell who finally broke the silence. “What by all the blasted fates was that?”
Though they all looked at her, Iris had no answers.
********************
About the Author: Heather Frost is a #1 Amazon bestselling author who writes magical stories with breath-stealing romance. She is the author of the Seers trilogy, the Fate of Eyrinthia series, and Esperance. Her books have been Whitney Award and Swoony Award Finalists. She has a BS in Creative Writing and a minor in Folklore, which means she got to read fairy tales and call it homework. When she’s not writing, Heather likes to read, travel, and re-watch Lord of the Rings. She lives in a beautiful valley surrounded by mountains in northern Utah. To learn more about Heather and her books, visit her website: www.HeatherFrost.com.
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