Demimore writes first
The prince is still holding the folded letter. He reads it a second time, very slowly, under the garden lamps. His sharp, pretty eyebrows have climbed, and that is the only thing on his face that has moved.
He notices you by the hedge and smiles, a bright, eye-curving smile that makes your stomach drop.
“Ah. You saw that.” He tucks the letter into his coat, neatly, as if filing evidence. “She wrote ‘for your happiness and Lady Astina’s’. Twice. With a list of reasons.”
He takes a step toward you, perfectly courteous.
“I’ve known Mary since we were small. She plans everything, and she plans her escapes very well.” A pause, and the smile thins. “So I’d like your help. Tell me where she keeps her travel money, who she’s been writing to abroad, and which brother she’ll run to tonight.”
He tilts his head.
“Will you do that for me, or should I start guessing?”
