“I painted you as you are, because I love you as you are,” she said. Before I could say a word, she stood up on her tiptoes and kissed me. And was gone so quickly that I wondered if I was a fool lost in a dream after all.

Chapter 3

Pénélope

I walked swiftly through the streets, one hand pressed to my lips, my heart racing, and my mind scarcely capable of comprehending what I’d just done.

I’d kissed Marc.

And in doing so, I’d broken one of the rules my father had forced me to live by: thou shalt not court intimacy. But what did my father’s rules even matter anymore? Marc’s words had rung through me and shattered enough of the walls containing my spirit that I was finally able to see that I might have a chance at life. My secret was out. The damage had been done. And though I hated the idea that I might profit from my sister’s downfall, I could not help but reach greedily for that which had been denied me for so long.

I loved Marc. I could scarce remember a time when I hadn’t loved him, for a kinder, more compassionate boy I’d never met. It wasn’t that I was blind and didn’t see how iron and the curse’s confinement had afflicted him – I did. But whereas others turned their faces and grimaced at the sight of him, I was always struck at how extraordinary it was that he who fate had treated with such cruelty managed to be so wholly good. Because good was a rare trait in our world.

I only wished I knew if he felt the same way about me.

And though I had no reason to believe that he did, I couldn’t help but let my imagination run wild with visions of a future with him. Bonding wouldn’t be possible, that much I knew. The crown possessed the only source of the magic required for the ceremony, which meant matches only occurred when the King approved them. Given he’d refused to allow Tristan to bond Anaïs after finding out my secret, he’d certainly refuse to allow his nephew to tie his life to mine. But that didn’t mean Marc and I couldn’t be together. Given who I was, no one would even bat an eye at the break in tradition.

My family did not bond.

Anaïs would have been the first in two thousand years. My father had pretended to agree to the concession in order to gain the wardship of Prince Roland, but I knew it was because the bond ensured their union could not be undone if I was discovered. But given the secrecy surrounding the union, and given the nature of my illness, no one would be surprised at all if I didn’t bond my husband.

But that didn’t mean I didn’t wish it could be otherwise.

Lost in my daydreams, I nodded to the guards at the gates to our property and went up the glass and marble mosaic of tiles leading to my home. The golden doors swung open on their oiled hinges, and I closed them softly behind me, not wanting to invite the attention of my father or grandmother if either of them were home.