He leaned close, speaking into her ear. “Because when I move, you follow. No fight. No tension. Your body is relaxed in my hands. You don’t know me, Princess. Do I make you feel safe?”

A beat of silence passed between them before soft peals of laughter vibrated from her throat.

He knew that sound.

But it wasn’t until she spoke again it struck him. “Do those lines work with the ladies of the city, my lord?”

Len.

He stumbled away from her. His Len… the girl he’d do anything to see again… she was the princess of Madra.

How did he not see it? The boy’s clothing. Escaping the palace.

Helena. Princess of Madra.

My heart resides here and I will protect him with everything I have.

He knew why Edmund was doing it now. For them. Had he known? Of course he did. Len wasn’t the prince’s mistress. She was his sister. And she was in danger.

“Lord Isaacs,” she asked, her lips tilting down. “Is everything okay?”

He glanced toward the door where he knew he should go at that very moment. There was a ship waiting for him. A way to safety. To a new life.

His eyes returned to the princess who looked to him with such innocence. Such beauty. He was one of the few people who knew what lay beneath the mask. Was he the only one who knew what lay inside her chest?

Or had Len been a lie?

Who was the girl in front of him?

He reached out, trailing a finger over the side of her mask.

“Would you like to walk in the gardens?” she asked. “I think I need a bit of air.”

The gardens were in the opposite direction of the palace gates. Farther from his freedom.

He nodded, unable to stop himself. “Yes, Princess. Yes.”

Chapter Nineteen

Ian’s gaze burned into Helena’s back as she slid her arm into the unknown noble’s beside her. She couldn’t claim to know many of the wealthy people of Madra since she spent her life cooped up in the palace. But there was something about him… His smile oozed with charm and with his handsome face, she was sure he had the ladies of Madra chasing after him.

His tailcoat with gold buttons spoke of wealth.

But unlike Ian Tenyson, his eyes were not those of a predator. They held something… kinder.

She spied her father speaking to a few of his advisors, paying no attention to her. Stev’s eyes followed her, but he didn’t rise. He’d have a few guards trail them in the gardens, no doubt.

As soon as she stepped through the door to the gardens, the cool night air struck her and she smiled. Out here, there wasn’t an entire host of nobles and commoners expecting bits of her time. There weren’t expectations or traditions.