Chapter 2

Leo didn’t think such a little thing was cause for so much fuss. But the fuss would continue as long as he stayed in the castle. Which was why he had made arrangements to spend three months at the hunting lodge. He needed a break, and he suspected his mother felt the same.

“She is a pretty girl, though.”

Leo cast a side-long look at Celeste. “So?”

“Well, she’s got the look of a princess, don’t you think?”

“She’s rather plain, don’t you think?”

“Plain. Her? I’m beginning to think your real problem might be your vision, son.”

There was nothing wrong with his vision. He saw the girl quite clearly. Hair like straw—the color and the consistency. Blue eyes that looked more than a little vacant. He didn’t know from firsthand experience, but he suspected that a sense of humor required genuine intelligence, and she seemed far too reliant on the shock of the physical body.

“Could you imagine trying to hold a conversation with her? I suspect it would be quite difficult.”

“So?”

“What do you mean, so?”

“You don’t marry for conversation, son.”

“I’m going to need more than just a pretty face when I look for a suitable bride.”

“If one makes you smile, you’re not going to have a choice on attributes.”

“None shall.”

“I’m beginning to think you’re just being contrary.”

“What? Do you think I enjoy this?” When Celeste didn’t answer his question, Leo turned to face her fully, unmindful of how rude that was to the puppet girl. “I don’t enjoy this. I don’t want anything to do with this.”

“It seems to me that you could have ended all of this a long time ago.”

“I’ve tried.”

“Yes, I know you have.”

The hint of sarcasm was barely perceptible, but it was still enough to sting. Especially since his mother had always possessed an endless patience with him. Did she really think he was just trying to attract more attention? He was already the prince; he didn’t need an excuse to garner more attention.

“I just don’t know why you can’t be happy,” Celeste added.

“I never said that I wasn’t happy. Not once.”

“You’re right. I’m not…I’m not feeling myself today, son. I think…I think I might retire to my chambers.”

Leo immediately jumped to his feet and offered his hand. “I’ll walk with you.”

“No, no, you don’t have to do that. You should stay here and…”

“I should help take care of my mother and queen,” Leo said, softly but firmly. Behind him, the puppet show continued, but he didn’t care if the girl had an epic show planned that would last well into the night. His only concern was Celeste.

“It must be this heat,” she murmured, accepting Leo’s hand. As soon as she stood, the entire hall fell into silence, except for the sound of clothes rustling as everybody rushed to take their feet.

Leo folded his arm around his mother’s and turned to address the court. “Ladies and gentlemen, please excuse us. The Queen feels ill, and she wishes me to escort her to her chambers.”

Disappointment flashed across the puppeteer’s face, and for the first time, she met his eyes. He nodded, and a smile broke across her face, like the sun bursting through the clouds. It was pure and betrayed the sort of contentment that Leo was sure he had never felt. Did she smile like that just because he acknowledged her? Could smiles be bought so cheaply?

“Do you want me to go get Father?”

“No, no, the King does not need to attend to me. I just need to rest.”

“Perhaps I should call Kipling?”

“He’ll just bleed me.”

“If you have bad blood…”

“I don’t like the sight of it. It makes me feel worse. I just need to rest and have something cool to drink.”

“I haven’t upset you, have I?”

Celeste squeezed his hand. “No, of course not. I’m sorry I was short-tempered with you.”

“I’ve given you reason to be.”

“No.” They stopped outside her chambers, and she cupped his cheek. “I know that you’re happy…and you’re a good son. You’ll make a good king someday, too. But I still worry about you. That’s my right as a mother.”

Sunlight slanted through the window high above her head. It had a sort of washed-out look, but it was bright enough to illuminate her face. There were wrinkles that Leo swore were never there before. Her blue eyes, once so stunning songs were written in their honor, were faded now and clouded. She never complained about her sight, but he suspected things weren’t as sharp as they once were. Most of her long gold hair had turned white.