Page 47 of The Mage and His Stolen Prince
Kit reached out to break the pair apart, but Delilah hissed at them, and they took a step back. “Kitten, it looks like he doesn’t want to be here—”
“Too bad, because he’s here now and he’s not going to run away likea coward!”
That finally stopped Wilde’s thrashing. He scowled at her, his chest rising and falling with rapid, uneven breaths. “I amnota coward.”
“Prove it,” she sneered, then released his hands.
Wilde remained where he was, struggling to catch his breath. He looked between Kit and my fathers, then his eyes landed on me. Something crossed his face I didn’t know how to describe—like he’d been stabbed in the chest and was happy about it.
Delilah fixed her hair, fluffing it around her round, human ears. “Wilde, please allow me to introduce you to my family. This is Kit, my parent, and these are my uncles, Rick and Brendon. Andthisis my cousin Trey.”
He was quiet for a long time. Finally, he bowed his head, eyes downcast as he said, “It’s nice to meet you.” Then his head shot up and he glared at Delilah. He grabbed her arm and pulled her close, whispering something in her ear.
“Well, you didn’t tell me that!” she whined.
“You should have asked.”
“How was I supposed to ask which name to use while you wereunconscious?”
Father looked between them before asking quietly, “Would you prefer we call you something else?”
“It’s fine,” Wilde said, waving away the offer. “Wilde ismy preferred name; I just don’t always use it.”
Something about the discussion of preferred names triggered a memory. A young woman with cornsilk hair and midnight eyes behind huge circle glasses, glossy lips parted in surprise.
I eyed Wilde carefully, learning the shape of him: a little below average height, slender silhouette, narrow shoulders. Maybe I’d metherbefore, instead ofhim? But when I tried to think of where, it had the same empty room feeling as the rest of the memories.
“Are you alright now, Wilde?” Father asked. “Can we continue?”
Delilah stared Wilde down and said sweetly, “Yes, Wilde,can we continue?” The words seemed to have a deeper meaning when she said them.
Would I have to watch them share secret looks and secret words like this the whole time? If so, this quest would be miserable.
Wilde stared back at her, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “Yes, we can continue.”
Like he’d cast another spell, everyone suddenly sprang into action. We filed back into the carriage, this time making it all the way to the castle without any magical interruptions. I watched Wilde from the corner of my eye. He refused to look at me, or anyone, focusing instead on his hands clenched in his lap.
The whole ride, I couldn’t help wondering: what were we continuing? And what was just beginning?
Chapter Fifteen: Wilde
Too Soon After a Terrible “First Meeting”
The Castle of Misfortune
Ignoring the Irony
An attendant met us in the courtyard. Their face remained stoic as six people climbed out of the cramped carriage. They bowed low and said, “Queen Davina sends her regards and apologizes that she could not meet you in person.”
“We thank her for her hospitality,” Brendon said, “and we apologize for bringing along an unexpected guest.”
The attendant’s gaze flicked between all present before refocusing on Brendon. “Please, allow us some time to adjust your room assignments to accommodate everyone. In the meantime, Prince Fitzroy has invited the prince and princess to his private residence.”
“And Wilde too,” Delilah piped up. “It’s important he joins us.”
The attendant hesitated, the lines around their mouth deepening in distress. They probably had instructions to keep uninvited parties away, but didn’t want to argue with a royal guest. In the end, they pretended to please the royal in front of them, while subtly signaling to another nearby attendant to run ahead with a message.
“Delilah, you can’t invite people to meetings when you aren’t the host,” Trey scolded as they followed the attendant through the halls.
