A strange pleasure rippled over me at his use of my nickname before I pushed it away and tightened my jaw. It was true that I was a terrible secret keeper. How could one keep silent when one had a juicy story just dying to be told? It was impossible. But I couldn’t let Alastar know that, else I’d never uncover his secret.
“I can. Occasionally. It’s been known to happen if the secret is boring enough, and considering this is your secret, that shouldn’t be a problem.”
His lips twitched again but he still didn’t look at me. “What of your own secrets? Are they boring or thrilling ones?”
“Mine are fascinating, of course.”
Finally, he looked up, his face aglow. “As I suspected. Then I’m afraid I must disappoint you and keep this secret to myself, for it’s not my own, but yours.” With that, he turned and walked away.
I stared after him in a daze before scampering after him. “It can’t be my secret, for I haven’t told you any.”
“Not intentionally,” he said brightly. “But you did share one with me just now. I suppose it couldn’t be helped. As I suspected, you’re terrible at keeping secrets.”
“But if it’s my own secret, you should have no qualms about sharing it with me.”
He shook his head. “As you’re about to discover, I’m excellent at keeping secrets.”
“Apparently so, for you have yet to tell me whether or not you’ve kissed someone before.” I bounced restlessly on my heels, anxiously awaiting his response.
“You do seem eager to know. Are you perhaps jealous?”
“Of course not,” I answered hastily.
His lips twitched into one of his half smiles, his eyes dancing. “I do love this secret of yours. Very well, I’ll humor you. I’m afraid that aspect of my own story is still a mystery.”
It took a moment for his meaning to hit me. “Does that mean you’ve never kissed either?”
He raised his eyebrow. “Does that surprise you?”
“Not in a bad way.” And for some inexplicable reason I smirked triumphantly, quite pleased with Alastar’s answer yet unsure why. He eyed my smirk with one of his own, the look in his eyes as if he was keeping not just one secret but a multitude of them, ones I desperately wished he’d share.
I paused in our stroll when we passed a clump of lovely daisies. I promptly knelt down and picked some.
“More pilfering?” Alastar asked.
“These are for my maid, Eloise. She seemed rather sad this morning, and I thought these would cheer her up.”
His expression softened, and the way he looked at me caused my heart to flutter in pleasure.
After I’d finished gathering my bouquet, Alastar led us back around to check on Eileen again. She was still thoroughly involved with her husband, so we didn’t linger. As we strolled away, I gazed longingly back at the couple and the adoring way Aiden looked at my dearest friend.
“Do you think anyone will look at me like that one day?”
Alastar met my gaze, his own strangely smoldering. “I do.”
“I sure hope so.” We took a path lined with artistically trimmed shrubs. “Do you like being Eileen’s Head Guard? It seems rather boring.”
“I like it very much,” he said. “Not only is it impossible for it to be boring with all of the unexpected things that come from your mouth, but it’s the greatest honor I’ve ever received.”
I crinkled my nose. “How?”
Alastar’s already serious expression became even more so. “It’s no secret the princess is who His Highness values above everything else. To think he’s entrusted her care and protection to me…” He shook his head, dazed. “Despite our years of friendship, I still couldn’t believe it when he approached me with the task. To have such trust from him…” He seemed to have no words.
I sighed. “You must be the most trustworthy person in the kingdom for Aiden to entrust Eileen to your care.” And I’d liked pretending he was a villain. “What was your life like before you became a royal guard?”
“You really want to know such trivial details about a mere guard?”
“Of course I do, for I’m discovering that you’re not merely a guard—you’re also a villain, a fellow wanderer, an adventurer, and a noble knight, all rolled into one.”
His lips twitched upwards into a full smile. “Noble knight? Have I changed parts again? You’ll have to excuse me so I can fetch my lines from my room.”
I giggled and looped my arm back through his. “I like to keep you on your toes.”
“Believe me, Miss Rosalina, no one has ever done so the way you have.”
“Then my scheme is a success.” I smiled up at him and to my delight he returned it. Like his previous smiles, it was adorable. “Now, won’t you tell me more about yourself?”
“Very well, I’ll humor you. One of my most treasured memories is of being curled up on my mother’s lap as a boy as she read to me. This led to a lifelong love of stories, as they always remind me of her. I find that making up stories is an excellent way to pass the time when one is standing guard all day.”
I could just picture the tender, homey scene he described. “That sounds lovely. Was your mother also a servant at the palace?”
“She was the lady-in-waiting to the late queen, His Highness’s mother, for she came from a noble lineage before she married a guard far below her station. They were so happy together that I knew she never regretted it.”
“How did she die?”
Sadness filled his eyes. I rested my hand lightly on his arm. “In the illness that struck Sortileya several years ago. It spread from the capital to several of the surrounding villages, taking many lives, including my parents. I’m fortunate it didn’t take me or my brother, Duncan.”
“Is that why you’re always so sullen?”
Alastar frowned. “Do you believe I’m unhappy?”
“Well, you never smile,” I said. “It’s rather disappointing. I like smiles.”
“No wonder. You have a beautiful smile yourself.”
My cheeks warmed at his praise. “As all heroines do.”
“No, there’s something different about yours…sweet, genuine, and a bit mischievous at times.” He reached out, as if about to trace my lips with his fingertip, but caught himself and dropped his hand. Strange disappointment filled me. What would it have been like to feel him touch me? “And you have an even lovelier imagination.”
My disappointment faded as warmth blossomed within me, causing me to feel I’d swallowed the sun. “You really think so, Alastar?”
He paused and gave me an earnest but tender look. “I do,” he murmured. “You’re absolutely enchanting.”
I lost myself in his hazel gaze, a pleasant sensation I’d read about but had never before experienced for myself. It was a lovely feeling.
As we approached the palace doors, the tenderness eclipsing his usual serious expression faded, leaving me yearning for it. “My break is nearly over. I must leave you now and return to guarding Her Highness. Shall I take your satchel with me? I assume you won’t be needing it anymore.”
He looked deeply into my eyes and slowly brushed his knuckles along my cheek. I shuddered and leaned against his fingers, finding myself unconsciously wanting to bridge the distance between us to quench my sudden need to be closer to him. A strange energy passed between us, one that I ached to explore.
Alastar lowered his gaze to his stroking fingers. “Rosalina?” he whispered. “You’re not really going to spell Prince Liam, are you?”
With those words, whatever hypnotic spell had settled over us vanished. I yanked myself away. “I have to, Alastar, and no one—especially not you—is going to stop me.”
I held my satchel close to my body and ran up the palace stairs, nearly careening into the footman as he opened the door for me. I fought the mysterious urge to look back at Alastar with every step away I took, but I couldn’t escape the feelings he’d caused me to feel, ones that, while tender, were emotions I didn’t want
to understand.
Chapter 12
I squinted at the faded recipe in Enchanted Sweets and Delights and silently cursed for not having had the foresight to bring more than one candle. For I, Rosalina, finally found myself alone in the palace kitchen, about to practice baking up a love spell in order to create my completely perfect happily ever after. Ah, bliss!
The kitchen door squeaked open. Without even turning around I sensed who the intruder was. Sure enough, it was Alastar who spoke. “As I suspected: the heroine has snuck down to the kitchen as part of the latest scheme she has up her sleeve.”
My grin widened as I spun around to face him. His flickering candle illuminated his usual serious expression and the merriment dancing in his eyes. “How did you know I was here?”
“When you hurriedly said good night to Their Highnesses and scampered off, I knew you were up to mischief. It wasn’t difficult to deduce that you’d gone to the palace kitchens in order to practice your ridiculous plot.”
His gaze lingered on the dozens of empty bowls waiting to be used and the flour I’d already spilled all over the counter. He joined me and leaned against the counter.
“Are you up to the mischief I think you are?” His gaze settled on a basket, stuffed to the brim with rolls hot off the hearth. He raised his brows. “Perhaps not. What do we have here?”
“Freshly baked orange rolls,” I said brightly. “I just whipped them up and thought I'd give them out to the guards tomorrow.”
“Guards aren’t allowed to eat while on duty,” he said.
I rolled my eyes. “I know that. I was going to wrap them up and tuck them into their pockets while they’re standing guard as a tasty treat for later. Although”—I nibbled my fingernail—“admittedly the delicious aroma may distract them from their duty.” As I spoke, I plucked a roll from the basket and slipped it into Alastar’s own pocket. "Are orange rolls your favorite treat?”
His lips twitched but he didn't answer.
I sighed. “I’ll figure it out eventually.”
“I hope that you do.” He pulled out the roll and tore off a piece, but hesitated before putting it into his mouth. “These aren’t spelled, are they?”
“Of course not, but they are my great-grandmother’s famous recipe. Aren’t they delicious? They’re our most popular item back home in the bakery.”
“They are good.” He took another bite. “But they’re not my favorite.” He popped the rest of the roll into his mouth. “Now that you’ve thoroughly distracted me, might I inquire what mischief you’re concocting now that you’ve finished baking your famous rolls? You can’t be lingering in the kitchen at such a late hour for no reason.”
I folded my arms with a scowl. “I’m not going to tell you.”
“Ah, a secret. In that case, I’m going to discover what it is very shortly.” He glanced at the clock. “I give you a minute. No worries, I can wait.” He settled back to whistle cheerfully. Aggravating man.
Since he expected me to tell him, naturally I became determined not to. But that was the problem with secrets; the ones that one was supposed to keep were the most slippery and difficult to hold on to. I mashed my lips together, determined to keep it inside where it belonged, but this only aggravated it further. The secret banged against my lips, begging and pleading for release. Stubborn thing. But it wouldn’t vanquish me, for I had a battle with a certain guard that I was determined to win.
He waited with annoying guard-like patience and far too much amusement as the war—Rosalina vs. The Secret—raged within me. He smirked and leaned towards my ear. “Don’t fight it.”
His words broke the dam I could no longer maintain and the secret tumbled out. “I’m practicing my love spell.”
The moment the words escaped I ached to snatch them and shove them back inside where they belonged, bound and chained and locked away. I slapped my hand over my mouth, as if the action could revert the damage.
He arched his eyebrow. “The love spell?” He leaned towards my book to study it and groaned. “Oh no, I was hoping that wasn’t the one you were planning on baking. I thought you didn’t have all the ingredients?”
“I almost have everything I need, but considering Prince Liam is visiting in a few days, I’ll probably only have one practice session to fine tune some of the more difficult aspects of this love spell so I can bake it just right when the time comes; love can be a tricky thing.”
“Practice would be wise; otherwise you’d inadvertently turn Prince Liam into a frog.”
“I’m not going to turn Prince Liam into a frog, Ali.”
His eyes narrowed. “What did you just call me?”
“Your name is such a mouthful,” I said. “As much as my own full name is perfect for a storybook heroine, Rosie is much more adorable. You’re in great need of a nickname, too, and Ali is just perfect. Perhaps it’ll help loosen you up a bit; Alastar is such a stuffy name.”
He stared at me, his face expressionless as usual, and like always, I found it annoying. How could I get any hint of what he was thinking when his countenance was always so stoic? It was so guard-like and utterly aggravating.
“Ali isn’t a name that seems appropriate for a guard,” he finally said. “Not when it’s rather…feminine.”
“If your masculinity is so fragile, I could shorten your name in another way. Would you prefer Star?”
He pulled a face and I smirked in triumph.
“Ali it is! The serious guard finally gets a nickname. It’s a new chapter in your story, Ali.”
He continued staring at me, but while his expression naturally didn’t change, something flickered in his eyes. Was that…amusement? “Is that so, Rosalina?”
I pulled a face. “Won’t you call me Rosie?”
He smiled, a real one. “It would be my honor to call you Rosie.”
“Good. Now that we’ve settled that, I must get back to what I was doing.”
I bustled over to the cupboard to fetch the cocoa while he frowned skeptically at my recipe book. “Is this the first time you’ve baked a spell?”
“No, I’ve baked plenty of spells—all in secret, of course.” My cheeks warmed. “My parents disapprove of my baking spells. They’re the first in generations to refuse to bake from this family heirloom, despite having a pantry stocked with the most common magical ingredients.”
“Naturally, your parents’ disapproval doesn’t stop you.” The teasing glint in his eyes softened. “Do you enjoy living in a bakery?”
“I do.” I blinked, slightly surprised by my own answer, and even more so when I realized it was true. “Being surrounded by delicious smells and treats, experiencing the thrill of creating pastries and breads, meeting a variety of interesting customers, and having plenty of time to brew up wonderful stories midst the hours of kneading…it’s wonderful.”
Ali frowned at Enchanted Sweets and Delights. “Do you ever sell anything created from this?”
“Oh, no. When I bake from it, I only do it for myself, although admittedly I sometimes get dismal results. In the week following Eileen’s disappearance, I tried and failed a dozen times to bake a spell to eliminate grief, but I could never manage it.”
Ali’s expression sobered. “I can’t imagine how much pain you must have been experiencing during that time.”
“It was the darkest time of my life.” I pushed the memories away and forced a smile. “Thankfully, my story has taken a much brighter turn, especially considering my life is about to include true love.” I tapped the love spell recipe and Ali’s frown deepened.
“Rosie, you really aren’t going to go through with this, are you?”
“I am,” I snapped. “And neither you nor Eileen is going to thwart my happily ever after. This is my story, and thus I’m the one who determines how it’ll go. Now give me your candle; mine is starting to burn out.”
He made no motion to do so, so I snatched it from him and set it beside my book to better illuminate my page.
“Now make yourse
lf useful and help me.”
He cocked his eyebrow. “You want me to assist you in getting yourself into a predicament that I firmly disagree with?”
I pressed my hands to my hips. “Of course I do. Are you going to be a good friend and cooperate?”
The annoyance marring his expression softened as he leaned closer, grazing my arm as he did so. I shuddered. “You consider me a friend, Rosie?”
“Of course I do.”
He smiled—full on smiled. I hadn’t even been sure that was possible. “Excellent, then we’re finally on the same page. I’ve considered you a friend from the moment we met, but you were stubbornly determined to think the worst of me.”
“How could I form a good opinion when you were doing devious things like knocking me down the stairs and threatening to feed me to the dragons?”
His lips twitched again as he shook his head. “I think you need to reread the beginning of our story, for I seem to recall things didn’t happen in quite that way.”
“Maybe not, but you have to admit my version of events makes for a better story. Now, no more stalling. I need to get started, and you need to help me. Put this on.” I shoved a floral apron I’d discovered in one of the drawers at him. He raised his eyebrows at it.
“This is not the type of thing a royal guard wears. If my fellow guards ever got wind of this, I’d never live it down.”
I scowled at his non-moving and thus non-cooperating form. “For goodness’ sake.” I seized the apron and tugged it over his head. He tried to wriggle away, but I yanked him back by the apron strings, spun him around, and tied it around his waist. “There.”
He glanced down at himself, expression horrified. “Please assure me I don’t look as ridiculous as I feel.”
I rested my chin on my fist and surveyed him before my giggle escaped. “Oh Ali, you look so pretty and frilly in your flowery get-up.”
He closed his eyes and groaned, looking as if he were being tortured. “Please don’t make me wear it, Rosie, I’m begging you.”
“I didn’t realize such a baby was allowed to join the ranks of the royal guard. Is His Highness aware you whine over your masculinity?”
The Kingdom Chronicles Box Set 1 Page 40
