The prince raised an eyebrow. “Put that knife away, kid. I’m not going to hurt the girl. She belongs with me, not here—”

“Among your people?”

“Dell,” Len warned. “Really. I’m okay.”

He didn’t even know her. Why didn’t he want to let her go? Prince Estevan, for all his faults, didn’t have a reputation of debauchery like the bastard princes. He was serious, hard, and had views on the world that would turn Madra to ash, but he wasn’t evil. Only misguided.

He spared Dell one more glance before putting his hand on Len’s back and ushering her out.

Mari stepped up to Dell’s side. Her words held a teasing lilt. “What were you going to do? Fight him with your carving knife? He isn’t made of wood.”

He studied the knife in his hand. There was little in his life he did for pure enjoyment, but wood carving gave him a sense of peace. He ran his thumb over the family crest on the handle. Not the Tenyson crest. This one belonged to his mother. She’d taught him to create beauty amid the chaos in his life. Amid the pain and the hardship.

He slid the knife back into his shirt pocket and held it against his chest. “I have to go. I’ve already missed too much work and my step-mother’s punishment will only get worse.”

Mari clucked her tongue. “Well, you can’t be seen in this part of town.” She touched his shoulder and warmth flooded him for only a moment before it disappeared.

He’d never get used to her magic. He ran his hands down the front of his shirt. “I don’t ever feel as if your magic is working. When I see myself, I don’t notice a change.”

She smiled. “Because you don’t understand how my power works. I don’t alter your appearance. I change other’s visual perception of you. But it only ever lasts a few hours.”

Dell bent to kiss Mari on the cheek. “Thanks, love.” He left through the front door, calling back over his shoulder, “I appreciate you!”

Chapter Three

Stev barely spoke on the ride through the streets and up the hill where the palace sat nestled among high columns separating it from the surrounding city. There would be no secret tunnels this time. The guards and servant busybodies would have the perfect view of the crown prince dragging a young boy into the palace. Only, she wasn’t a young boy.

She was the princess.

But none of them knew her face. Maybe they’d assume it was Kassander who’d run off and the rumors would spread.

She fidgeted in the carriage as the door opened. Stev climbed out and then held a hand up to help her.