“I’ve just come for a quick checkup, Your Highness,” said Telma. “Is this a bad time?”
“Oh no, I’m just practicing being a pincushion,” said Evangeline, hoping to sound more cheerful than she felt.
“How are your missing memories?” Telma asked. “Have any returned?”
“I’m afraid not,” Evangeline said. She wondered then if maybe she should mention the voice in her head.
But Telma’s reply gave her pause. “I’m sorry you still can’t remember,” she said.
And it could have just been Evangeline’s overeager imagination, but she could have sworn this assistant didn’t look sorry at all. If anything, she appeared relieved. The reaction brought to mind what Apollo had told Evangeline last night: Jacks has done atrocious, unforgivable things to you, and I truly believe you might be happier if those things stay forgotten.
Until then, Evangeline had tried not to think about it. Thinking about her missing memories too much made her feel overwrought, overwhelmed, and in too far over her head. She so wanted to believe that if she could just find a way to get the memories back, it would all be better.
But what if Apollo was right? What if remembering only made everything worse? He’d seemed truly concerned at the prospect of her getting them back. And now this assistant looked as if she felt the same way, as if Evangeline was genuinely better off forgetting.
And yet it was difficult to completely dismiss her unease. Perhaps it was because thus far, she really had nothing but Apollo’s word.
“Telma, I heard something last night, and I’m just wondering if it’s true. I heard Apollo was murdered on our wedding night and I was framed for the crime.”
Telma paled at the question. “I never believed you did it.”
“But it’s true that others believed I did?”
Telma nodded grimly. “It was a terrible time for everyone. But now that Apollo is back, hopefully all of that’s come to an end.”
Telma slowly exhaled and something dreamy filled her eyes. “It’s amazing, isn’t it, that the prince came back from the dead for you?” The look she gave Evangeline was so earnest, so sweet and pure and awed, Evangeline couldn’t help but feel a little foolish for thinking about trusting a little paranoid voice in her head.
When the seamstresses, the physician, and the servants finally left, it was night, and Evangeline’s suite turned from a hive of activity to a quiet sanctuary only enlivened by the crackling fire and the distant chime of a tower clock. It was the first time Evangeline had been alone all day.
But the quiet did not last. Shortly after she found herself alone, a knock sounded on her door.
“May I enter?” asked Apollo.
Evangeline quickly looked in the closest mirror to check her reflection and smooth her hair, unexpectedly flustered, before she replied, “Come in.”
The door opened quietly and Apollo strode confidently inside.
He was still handsome, and he was still a prince.
Not that Evangeline had expected him to stop being handsome or a prince. She was just overcome by the truth of it once again. By his standing in her suite, all tall and regal. And she imagined he knew how good he looked and exactly what effect he was having on her.
He smiled wider as her cheeks grew warmer. She hoped it wouldn’t always be this way. It had been only a day and a half since she had met him, at least that she remembered.
“I heard you’ve been indoors all day. Join me for a walk?” He said the word walk with a twist of his mouth that made Evangeline think they’d be doing more than just walking.
Her stomach did a giddy little tumble.
She didn’t know if it was perhaps her memories coming back, or if maybe she was simply attracted to him.
“Yes, I’d love to join you.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
Apollo brought Evangeline a fluffy white cloak lined in snow-white fur. He helped her with her cloak, warm fingers lingering at the nape of her neck as he moved her hair. It felt more intentional than accidental. In fact, Evangeline was beginning to suspect that everything Apollo did was by design.
After leaving her rooms, he nodded at the waiting guards. It was an almost imperceptible tilt of his chin, but it seemed to hold the power of a barked command.
The guards dipped their heads in unison and stepped back so the pair could pass. Then they followed the two from behind, mindful to keep a respectable distance.
Evangeline and Apollo walked the first few castle halls in silence, flanked by the warm light of all the sconces on the ancient walls. She still had so many questions for Apollo, but now all she felt were nerves buzzing inside her.
Perhaps it was the cadre of guards in their shining bronze armor that stopped her from speaking. They were about a half a hall behind, but Evangeline could hear the fall of their boots against the stone floor, so she imagined that were she to speak, they would hear her as well.
Apollo took her hand.
Evangeline felt a shock.
“So that you’ll stop thinking about the guards and you’ll think of this instead.” Apollo gave her fingers a gentle squeeze.
Evangeline had never held hands with a young man before, at least not that she could remember. Yesterday Apollo had taken her hand, but it had been more to tug her through the castle.
This was . . . nice. The soft pressure of Apollo’s fingers, the way her hand felt small and sheltered inside of his. Of course, it didn’t help the problem of being too nervous to speak. If anything, she felt more anxious than before. This was all so new that she wasn’t quite sure what to do. Apollo wasn’t a mere boy who worked in a stable or in his father’s bakery. He was the ruler of a kingdom. He had the power to hold lives in the palm of his hand. But right now, he was only holding her hand.
She was about to finally ask him once again how the two of them had originally met when she saw the poster nailed to one of the castle’s rounded doors.
Evangeline’s blood went cold.
Underneath the list of Lord Jacks’s crimes was a portrait—if it could be called that. The image was more shadow than man, a face with two dark holes for eyes and a slash of a mouth.
Apollo tugged her closer to his side. “Don’t pay those posters any attention.”
“Is that really how Lord Jacks looks?” Evangeline knew Apollo had called him a monster, but she hadn’t expected this.
“It’s a rough sketch. He looks more human than that, but barely.” Something like hate poured off Apollo as he said the words.
It was the type of emotion that made Evangeline want to curl away from him. She imagined Apollo had every reason to feel spiteful, but for a second, she felt the urge to run. Although perhaps that was because of the poster of Jacks?
Evangeline’s thoughts kept going back to the shadowy image until she briefly lost track of where they were and where they were going. Suddenly she found herself climbing a narrow spiral of stone stairs.