Page 100 of This Prince Is Not Charming

She studied her father in wonder. “You’re okay. You’re—you’re talking and walking and”—she looked over his shoulder—“drinking tea?”

“It did help calm my nerves a bit.” He nodded toward me. “So did this young man. And that one.” He jabbed a thumb at Marsten, who waved.

Ceri whirled around, opening her mouth, then closing it, then opening it again. “I . . . thank you,” she said to me, her eyes filling with tears.

“No thanks needed. We’re just glad you’re back. You’re safe. Where have you been? Did you see the other contestants?”

“The brotherhood is here,” Ceri burst out, not answering any of my questions.

I went completely still, the breath sucked out of me at those words.

“What?” Margaret shrieked from the painting hanging over the hearth, making Ceri jump. “The brotherhood?”

“Margaret, what are you doing here?” I asked.

“I was coming by to check on Mr. Morgane. I figured he must be having a hard time without Ceri.”

“I’m managing,” Ceri’s father said to the painting. “But I wouldn’t mind a little gossip to distract me.”

“Apparently I’m not the one with big news.” Margaret swallowed. “The brotherhood is really here?”

Marsten sighed. “Well, that puts a damper on this first date.”

“Here as in outside our border?” I asked, suddenly feeling queasy. “Do you think they’ve found us?”

Ceri’s expression darkened. “I know they have. They’ve breached our border.”

“Fuck.” A chill skittered down my spine. “Where are they? How many of them? How did you escape?”

“I don’t have time to go through it all. It’s a long story, but Cillian, we have to get to them before the brotherhood hurts them.”

“Who?” I asked.

“The other contestants.”

“So you were with them?” Marsten stood.

“Yes, and we have to get back to them. They’re fighting the brotherhood as we speak, trying to keep them from gaining further entry into the isle.”

I put my hand to my head, not able to imagine those women fighting the brotherhood and having any sort of chance. Godwitches, they’d likely be dead by the time we found them.

“That sounds very dangerous.” Mr. Morgane’s face paled. “Ceri, maybe you should let Cillian and the royal guard handle this. Stay here with me.”

“I can’t.” She turned to face her father and took his hands. “Papa, I know you’re scared of losing me. But in the last few weeks, this town has rallied around us. Every time I’ve faced a challenge or had to be away from you, others have shown us how much they care about you and me. All this time, I pushed everyone away. I didn’t show anyone how much we could use a community, a village, because I was afraid they wouldn’t care.” She nodded at me, and I shot her a small smile. “I didn’t realize we already had our village, and in the last few weeks, it’s grown. I don’t ever want anything to separate us, but if the absolute worst happens, you’re not alone. You’ll never be alone.”

Margaret fanned her eyes. “Of course he won’t.”

“Never,” Marsten agreed.

“Absolutely not.” I stepped forward, nodding at Mr. Morgane, whose own eyes had gone teary.

He took a deep inhale, then gave a sharp nod. “You go do what you need to. I’ll be waiting here for you.”

“Maybe I’ll just stay behind and keep him company,” Marsten said.

“No.” Ceri stepped forward. “You need to come with us. We need help until the royal guard arrives.” She looked at the book lying on the couch. “And I think we might need that.”

“I’ll alert the royal guard!” Margaret said. “But where should they go?”