Page 39 of Crowned In Sin

She holds my hands in hers. “You can tell me.”

“I’m not sure⁠—”

I swallow hard, once again unable to form the sentences that would lay this out as cleanly as possible without making either of us—any of us—look as if we had fallen into sin that we could not recover from.

Before I can speak, a page appears at my side. It is not one of my own or one of the castle. It is one of the men who came with Prince Casen.

Or perhaps he is one of the pages who came with Prince Jasper. He’s young and in brown linen garb.

Perhaps they brought many of the same people. My throat is thick with guilt at the thought.

“Yes?” I ask, because he looks a bit nervous to be approaching Isabel and me. “Do you have a message?”

“I do, Princess,” he says, and bows his head apologetically. “Prince Jasper requires your presence at once.”

Chapter 17

Jasper

I send the page to Cora, my patience for all this waiting and subterfuge is thinning.

I will confess all to her today. Cora deserves it.

Time with the princess is no longer enough. She deserves complete truth and honesty, and I believe she will understand when I tell her of my…lack. Although no one else can know. I’ve kept her secret and surely she will keep mine.

I remind myself of her attributes, and why I’ve fallen so quickly and so hard for this woman.

She had such compassion when she heard of my brother. Surely, she will have similar compassion for me. I saw a glimpse of it in her eyes, and I felt much more in her body when I took her in the garden. We might be able to find some solution together, or Princess Cora may simply accept the life I am able to offer her.

I wish to give her everything, but there are some things not within my capabilities to give. But I will not dwell on those. What matters now is the passion I felt when we were truly together with no one to interrupt.

The sun beats down on my shoulders as I pace in the garden. It is such a bright day that it will be impossible to conceal anything from her, nor do I wish to. What is taking the page so long? He is among the quickest in the castle. That is why I chose him.

With a racing heart and nerves running through me, I sit for a few moments on a wide, stone bench, then get to my feet. Cora should be here any moment now. Any moment, she’ll appear in the garden entrance, in a royal grown that only emphasizes her delicate femininity. The beauty of the garden is no match for the princess. Nothing is.

As the time ticks away, the only person who appears in the garden is a squire. He stays at a respectful distance down the path, seeming not to pay attention to me, though he’s on alert. She must be close then. Soon. I swallow thickly, hating the nerves that rattle through me. Surely she’ll understand.

A few more minutes go by. Time moves as slowly as the bees buzzing from flower to flower in the garden.

Something has gone wrong. I can’t help the unsettled feelings.

Princess Cora would not dally like this. The page would not have found reasons to drag his feet. That leaves only two options—that something befell the page, or that something befell Princess Cora.

Without further haste, I rise from the bench, brush out my clothes, and stride back into the palace. The squire from the garden hurries to keep up with me, still hanging back to give me any privacy I may require.

The hope that Princess Cora was only detained by some errand or other disappears. She’s not just inside the palace, mere seconds from meeting me in the garden. Instead, there’s an atmosphere of tension. Two maidens curtsey to me, their heads bowed, then rush off as if they are running from something.

My footsteps heavy and rushed, I reach the main passage that leads to the great hall and let out a breath of relief. The intensity of the relief is evident and only furthers my knowledge that my emotions are unstable. There is Cora, at the opposite end of the hall with her friend, Isabel.

Gorgeous but a worrisome look in her eyes.

I’m no longer relieved when I see that Princess Cora is fanning her face with her eyes closed. Isabel appears to be comforting her. Why? Was there some attack on the palace? From within the palace? Has someone dared to attempt to harm her?

Voices surround me in a dim hum as I go toward her, intent on discovering what has upset Princess Cora so. It’s her father, the king, who speaks, his voice hearty and booming, though the man is not shouting.

“—no need for any upset, I am sure, Prince Casen,” he says, as I pass the wide doorway to the great hall. Prince Casen? What is my brother doing down here? This is not the plan I described to him last night. Panic races through me. She’s met him? She’s seen him before I could explain. Why would he do this? Does he not realize it makes it harder for what must happen? “If there is some way you could—yes, boy, bring a bit of paper so the prince may write.”

I follow the king’s voice into a sunroom past the great hall.