Chapter 46
Self-consciously, I resisted the urge to cover my face. “Yes, it’s me,” I answered in a small voice. With each step Curtis took toward me, a knot of doubt tightened in my stomach. Was it a mistake to come tonight? Did he still think I hated him?
Then he was right there. The light from the windows spilled across his face, and I forgot how to breathe.
He had changed in our few years apart. He was even taller now but was more muscular and had filled out to have broader shoulders and a more mature face.
Yet that familiar mop of curly hair, stubborn and wild, was exactly the same.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke. What do you say to an old love after years apart? My mind betrayed me with a flood of memories: our first kiss, mud-splattered archery contests, lessons side by side, endless walks around the moat…
Remembering that he was royalty and I was a mere commoner now, I dropped into a curtsy. “Your Majesty.”
The spell shattered. Curtis laughed, pulling me up from my curtsy and sweeping me into a tight hug before I could protest. “Don’t start that nonsense with me, Truly.”
My arms wrapped around him before I could stop myself. He felt solid, warm, achingly familiar. When he drew back, holding me at arm’s length, his eyes were alight. “You look beautiful, milady.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks. He was probably only being polite, but still, it had been years since a man had called me beautiful. “Thank you. And I didn’t think you could get taller, but you proved me wrong.”
Curtis laughed again with that bubbling, infectious energy I remembered so well. It was like stepping back into the sunlight after years of shadow.
“Walk with me?” he asked, gesturing to the grounds.
I nodded and started forward, but then darted back for the shoes lying neglected under the bench. I squashed my toes back inside, then caught up with Curtis. The shoes were uncomfortable, but I still managed to walk without hobbling.
Curtis grinned. “Now you’re taller too.”
I nearly teased him back, but forced myself to remember that our situation had changed dramatically since last I’d seen him. So I cleared my throat instead. “Is Aria here tonight?”
He blinked. “Princess Aria? No. Why would she be?”
My heart lurched. “Because you’re betrothed to her. Aren’t you?”
“What?” Curtis stopped short. “She and I have never been engaged. She and Hubert were, but it ended.”
I faltered, clinging to caution. “But…I heard you took Hubert’s place.”
Curtis shook his head. “No. Aria was clear that she didn’t want to marry. Their monarchy is matriarchal anyway—she rules with or without a husband. She wanted freedom, not a wedding ring. And honestly? I’d never have wanted to marry her anyway. Don’t you remember that trip when—”
“I remember,” I breathed. Acute relief poured through me so suddenly I could hardly think. “Oh. Well, I suppose I don’t need to congratulate you then.”
“No, you don’t,” Curtis chuckled.
We strolled past the ballroom windows, glancing in to see Hubert stiffly waltzing with some poor girl simpering at his side.
Curtis and I looked at each other, then both burst into laughter.
It was as though no time had passed. We were still sixteen years old again and eager to spend every minute together.
“Quite the charmer, isn’t he?” Curtis said. “He hasn’t changed much since you left.”
I smirked. “Rumor says this whole ball is just to find him a bride.”
Curtis groaned. “Figures. The gossip gets his love life right, but mine so wrong.” He rolled his eyes. “Our parents keep insisting Hubert should’ve been married already.”
“They aren’t wasting any time then.” I marveled at how natural it felt to be talking to Curtis again. In my imagination, this reunion had always been stiff and formal and awkward. But this was so easy and effortless.
“My parents want a whole army of grandchildren,” Curtis said dryly. “Apparently, Hubert and I lost our cute factor some time ago. My sympathies to whatever girl has to mother Hubert’s children.”
A vivid picture of Hubert marching along a corridor, trailed by six or seven little stiff-backed boys with expressionless faces and monotone voices, all dressed in crisp suits popped into my mind. I giggled.
“Can you picture him trying to kiss a scraped knee?” I giggled. “Or teach his children how to play catch?”
Curtis grinned wickedly. “Or braid his daughter’s hair. ‘Now, Huberta, sit still while Daddykins fancifies your golden locks.’” His imitation of Hubert’s voice was impeccable.
Tears of laughter blurred my vision. I hadn’t laughed like this since before Father died. It felt like finding a piece of myself I thought was gone forever.
“What about you?” I asked. “Do your parents expect you to add to this army of grandchildren? You’ll be a great father.
” I meant it. Curtis would be the type to teach his children to ride horses and play dress up and pull pranks on everyone in the castle.
He would be the kind of father who took joy in the time he spent with his children and bragged about his daughter’s skill with a bow or his son’s prowess in chess.
He shrugged. “Pops keeps warning me I’ll have to settle down if Hubert doesn’t. It’s like they think I should club a girl over the head and drag her to my cave. But that really isn’t my style.”
I forced myself to stare straight ahead. “So have you found someone, since the Aria rumor wasn’t true?”
“Why, are you interested if there’s an opening?” he asked, eyebrows raised.
I swallowed, unsure of how to respond.
Curtis didn’t make me answer. “I am just the kingdom’s backup plan if Hubert isn’t successful in finding a wife, so I don’t have as much pressure.
Honestly, I’m not sure anyone actually believes Hubert will get married.
If Hubert doesn’t produce an heir, then I have to.
” Then, lowering his voice conspiratorially, he added, “Though truth be told, it may be a good thing. I don’t think any progeny of Hubert’s would bode well for the kingdom. ”
“I don’t think Hubert himself bodes well for the kingdom,” I returned.
“Milady speaks treasonously!” Curtis gasped in mock horror.
“At least he has a sense of decorum and propriety,” I said slyly. “With him, no one never has to worry about him sticking honey buns on their chairs.”
Curtis slapped his forehead. “I’d forgotten that!”
But I hadn’t. The image of the king rising with two sticky pastries clinging to his royal backside was still permanently etched in my mind.
I still could recall the horrified expression on the queen’s face with perfect accuracy, and how Curtis had tumbled out of his seat from his fits of hysterics, and then nimbly evaded the staff and sprinted out of the dining hall before he could be caught and punished.
His wild, uncontrollable laughter was the same now as it had been then.
He grew quieter. “But surely you’ve had suitors since…” His voice trailed off.
I shook my head. “No. No one’s ever been interested in me.” Because of my face, I added in my mind. Men wanted perfect, blemish-free wives. Add on the fact that I had just about become a hermit, and I should just as well have become a nun.
Curtis stopped walking. “That can’t be true.” His voice was firm.
I dodged the pain with a deflection. “What about you? You’re a prince. Every girl in the kingdom must be lining up.”
He scuffed his boot against the gravel. “Plenty of girls. But they don’t want me. Just the title.” His eyes flicked sideways to mine. “Except…there was one amazing girl, a few years back, who seemed to want me for me.”
The world stilled. This was it—the moment I had replayed in my head a hundred times. I had shut Curtis out when we needed each other the most, and yet he was still here, friendly as ever. My throat tightened. The time had arrived for me to say what I’d come here to say.