Chapter 2
My heart beat in an unrelenting tempo as I looked wildly around for the source of the roar, fear trickling up my spine for the first time since I’d run away.
“Who’s there?” My trembling voice became trapped in my throat as my gaze settled on a man standing at the entrance. I gasped and stumbled back; he certainly hadn’t been there moments before.
He was tall and broad shouldered, dressed in a red velvet tunic lined with gold. His black hair was tousled as if he’d just been running, and his dark eyes were narrowed at the rose I clutched in my shaking hand.
He took a menacing step closer. “What did you do?”
I took a steadying breath to summon my courage and straightened. “I plucked a rose.” There was no use lying, not when he could clearly see the evidence before him.
The fury already lining his expression hardened. “So I see.” He advanced another limping step, drawing my attention to the dark crimson blood staining his trousers from a large gash in his shin, which appeared to still be bleeding.
“What happened to your leg?”
He didn’t answer as he crouched in front of the rosebush and lightly traced the severed stem, sadness filling his dark eyes. He tightened his jaw and turned the force of his anger back on me.
“You plucked a rose.” His hardened tone made it sound as if I’d committed a grievous crime. I stilled. I hadn’t…had I? My blood chilled. Perhaps I had. After all, these were royal gardens, and taking one of their roses without permission was no different than stealing from the royal family themselves.
I shifted guiltily. Maren, you do get yourself in the most thorny predicaments. An apology was definitely in order, which was rather unfortunate since I hated apologizing, but considering the offense, it was undoubtedly wise.
I lowered my gaze. “It is as you said. I’m sorry.”
I waited for his response. At his silence, my gaze flickered upward to find him looking not at me, but at the rose I held, his expression grieved as if he’d just lost a dear friend.
“I appreciate your apology, although it can’t undo what you’ve done, which is more serious than you realize.” His tone, while still hard, had softened considerably. I studied him curiously before the realization of who this man was swept over me.
“Are you one of the Malvagarian princes?”
He gave a rigid nod. “I am.”
I nearly groaned. Of course he was. It was just my luck to meet one of our kingdom’s royalty in such a way—wearing a traveling gown marred by mud and tears, all while being caught trespassing and stealing; I ignored my prickling conscience that reminded me that these unideal circumstances were of my own making.
I knew a curtsy was in order, but I was too stunned and mortified to even move. He didn’t seem to notice my faux pas, for his attention had been recaptured by the rosebush’s severed stem, as if he couldn’t look away. After a moment, he slowly straightened and returned his attention to me.
“I am Briar, Crown Prince of Malvagaria and the keeper of these gardens.”
Oh dear, he wasn’t just a prince—he happened to be the crown prince and my future king. This just kept getting worse and worse. I finally stirred enough to bob into a rather inelegant curtsy. “I’m Maren, Your Highness.”
Our introductions made, I awaited my inevitable punishment. While I’d heard our kingdom’s crown prince was a mild-mannered man, I didn’t expect mercy for my crime. If only I’d paid better attention in my studies of our kingdom’s laws to know which consequences I could expect for theft.
I stiffened as he bridged the distance between us, favoring his bleeding leg, until he stood close enough that I could hear his anger-laden breaths. “I don’t know where you come from, Miss Maren, but you are trespassing on royal property. Therefore I must ask what you’re doing here.” He spoke slowly, as if struggling to maintain his fragile hold over his displeasure.
I raised my chin. “I’m just passing through.”
He lifted a dubious brow. “How did you get in?” He sighed before I could even answer. “The vines let you in, didn’t they? Foolish things. I thought they were more trustworthy.”
“I’m surprised you left a duty as important as guarding the palace to a bunch of vines.” The impolite words escaped before I could stop them, but once again he didn’t seem to notice my rudeness.
“The plants are more than capable, but I mistakenly believed they were more discerning.” He gave me a pointed look and my cheeks flushed.
“There’s no need to call my character into question,” I said indignantly.
“I’m afraid that due to the circumstances, I have no choice: you’ve been found trespassing on royal property and plucking one of my roses. Those two actions are not points in your favor, Miss Maren.”
Unfortunately, he was right. “If I might defend myself, Your Highness, I wasn’t trespassing but exploring. I admit my actions were foolish, but one mistake doesn’t make me a bad person.”
He clasped his hands behind his back and studied me thoughtfully. “It doesn’t, but you still have much work to do in repairing your unfavorable first impression.” He faced the garden exit, his expression now more weary than frustrated. “I still don’t understand how you entered the palace gardens in the first place.”
“The vines seemed concerned for me.”
He lifted a skeptical brow. “Concerned? You claim to understand the enchanted plants?”
“We had a conversation…of sorts, enough that we can now call ourselves acquaintances. They’ve treated me kindly.” Unlike himself.
Even though I wasn’t reckless enough to voice such an observation out loud, he seemed to have sensed my silent disapproval. He closed his eyes and took a steadying breath, as if fighting to regain his sense of calm. The rest of his anger faded, leaving only his exasperation.
“I’m surprised you felt inclined to return such a gracious reception with an act of thievery.”
The heat in my cheeks deepened. “I can assure you that wasn’t my intention. The gardens led me to this rosebush, almost as if they wanted me to pluck one of the roses.”
He stilled and his expression paled. “What did you say?”
“The gardens led me to—”
My explanation was cut short when he stormed from the garden with long, agitated strides, despite his bleeding leg. I immediately scrambled after him as he headed up the path, all while ignoring the flustered rustling of the plants he passed.
He ducked beneath the weeping willow’s overhanging branch and stomped to the ivy-covered entrance, where he stopped to glare at the vines, who stayed perfectly still, as if awaiting their scolding.
“What did you do?” he hissed.
They rustled guiltily. He waited, his ear cocked as if he were listening to each sway of the vines as they spoke in a silent language I couldn’t hear.
“You know no one is allowed inside the gardens without my permission.” He spun around to face the rest of the gardens. “And you.” His stern voice easily carried across the grounds, which all seemed to be listening intently to their prince. “Whose idea was it to trick her?”