“There is little enough for Diaval. He shouldn’t have to share,” Phillip managed to say.

“But he left you the eyes,” Maleficent said. “They’re the best part. A real delicacy for a raven. They pop like fish eggs in your mouth.”

The table had gone quiet. The faeries stared at him eagerly, waiting.

“I prefer the heart,” Phillip said.

“Phillip—” Aurora began.

But Maleficent rose from her chair. “Do you really? Diaval, you heard the man.”

Diaval hopped over and dropped a small piece of flesh on Prince Phillip’s plate. It was the color of a garnet and half the size of a grape.

He had made an extravagant promise to Maleficent—told her he would do whatever she asked to win her approval. He’d been willing to swear on his life that he meant Aurora no harm.

This was nothing.

He picked up the heart and put it on his tongue. Gagging once, he got it down.

“Delicacy,” he said, choking a little on the word.

All along the table, faeries began to laugh. Aurora stared at him in astonishment, a smile growing on her face.

“You know how to be polite,” Maleficent said finally. “I will give you that. You haven’t screamed once.”

Phillip didn’t admit how close a thing that had been. “It’s been a delightful dinner.”

“I am not sure I would go so far as all that,” Maleficent said.

Aurora nudged her. “Godmother.”

She took a deep breath. “Very well. You are welcome in the Moors. Aurora may even walk you to your horse, if she’d like. But I warn you, be careful what you say. This welcome can be revoked.”

Phillip supposed that was as much as he could have hoped for. He pushed back his chair and stood. “Would you walk with me?”

“With pleasure,” Aurora returned.

Together, they walked away from the banquet table. A cloud of tiny faeries blew around them and away.

“You were so very good tonight,” Aurora said. “And I really do think you impressed my godmother. And you ate—”

“Let’s never speak of it!” he said, and she laughed.

They walked on through the night. Aurora moved through the Moors nimbly, hopping easily from stone to stone.

“I will miss you very much when you’re back in Ulstead,” she said.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I did get a letter from home asking me to return,” he said, “but I haven’t replied to it yet. That’s not what I came to say to you the other night.”

She turned to him, frowning. “What is it, then?”

Phillip needed to say it the way he’d swallowed that mouse heart: all at once.

“I love you,” he told her.

Her entire demeanor changed, shoulders tensing. “You’re teasing me, aren’t you? Because of everyone’s fussing.”