Ellie and the Prince (Faraway Castle #1)(43)

“Good morning. Thank you for bringing the children back.” He spoke without looking at her. She had never before seen his face so devoid of expression.

“Ellie,” said Briar, “do you have a moment to talk? I need to discuss something with you.”

“I must report to the lake soon for my afternoon shift,” she said. “After a bite of lunch.”

“May I walk you to the castle?” he asked.

She nodded. “I’ll need to stop by my cottage for my gear first.” She hugged the protesting children goodbye and promised to see them again soon. Omar stood by, obviously trying not to watch and failing. His palpable hurt tore at her heart, but what could she do?

Briar spun his tennis racket and said nothing as they walked away from the playground. Only when well out of earshot did he comment. “Now, that was awkward. I won’t butt in on your business, but I do want you to know that you needn’t dread romantic overtures from me. Aside from a fundamental barrier between us, romance is impossible for me because I am on a . . . a quest, of sorts. As in, I am more-or-less committed.”

“More-or-less committed sounds enduring,” she observed. Was Omar the “fundamental barrier,” or did he refer to their unequal stations in life?

“Ye-e-es, well. Even if I were an eligible suitor, I would never jeopardize centuries of peace between Auvers and Khenifra.”

Ellie looked up sharply. “What?”

At first glance his expression was grave, but those intense eyes held a wicked twinkle. “My charming country excels at producing wine and romance. Military power, not so much. Khenifra would annihilate us on the battlefield as easily as a certain prince trounced another prince on the tennis court. I might stand a chance one-on-one with sabers or pistols, but on the whole, I hold with peaceful international negotiations.”

Ellie couldn’t repress a smile. “You are incorrigible.”

“So I am frequently informed.” One side of his mouth curled upward. “I wish you and Omar nothing but joy,” he said plainly. “He is a good man. One of the best I’ve ever met. Maybe even good enough for you.”

Ellie stiffened. “What did you wish to ask me?” she said as they approached her cottage.

“Before I get into that—Have you seen Tor?”

“No, I’ve been crazy-busy today. Is he back?”

“They say he was here yesterday, but I haven’t seen him. The director returned last night, but no word about what happened.”

“It is very strange.” Conversation paused while Ellie collected her lake gear. Maybe she should ask the Gamekeeper; he probably knew all about the siren situation.

When she emerged from her room, Briar was studying the sprite cages in her sitting room. “How do you bear the noise they make?”

“I like it,” she admitted. “They’re good company.”

“If you say so.” He followed her back outside into bright sunlight, and they headed for the castle. “I’ll have to talk fast. Ellie, how long have you worked here at the Faraway Castle?”

“This is my seventh summer, why?” She disliked his slightly interrogating tone.

“And where did you live before you came here?”

Ellie spoke and walked quickly. “I lived with the burva Arabella. She is better known as the Mountain Witch, but she hates that name. Arabella is cranky and peculiar, but she seeks only to help people.” She knew she sounded defensive but couldn’t help it. “She’s always telling me to be kind and considerate and to look out for the interests of others.”

“And she trained you to use your magic abilities?”

Ellie nodded then reconsidered. “Well, mainly she taught me how to mix herbal balms and potions, such as I use with the cinder sprites and other small creatures.”

“How long have you lived with her?

Ellie felt her defenses rising. “For a long time. Why do you want to know all this?”

“Trust me, it is important in a good way. Do you know your parents, your family?”

She stopped in her tracks. “How is this your business, Your Highness?”

He winced. “Back to titles again? I apologize, Ellie, but time is growing short. Please tell me, do you remember anything about your life before you lived with the burva Arabella?”

She stared at him for a long moment. “No. I don’t.” His gaze held hers, and she suddenly felt panic rise in her throat, stopping her breath. Terror filled her mind—flashing glimpses of huge talons, feathers, whirling depths—then blackness.

When Ellie’s awareness returned, she was seated at a picnic table on the lawn beside the lake. She lifted her head from her arms and met Briar’s concerned gaze across the table. “How long was I out?” she whispered.

“About five minutes. We’ve attracted some attention, but I chased people off. Great way to start new rumors.”

Ellie couldn’t respond to his humor. “Now you know my secret.”

“Not really. Either your memory has been wiped or your brain has blocked out something frightening. Neither would be your fault, Ellie.” He patted her hand. “I don’t expect you to talk to me, but it might be a good idea to tell someone everything you do remember and see if the rest won’t come back to you.” He sat back on the bench. “Meanwhile, you might want to head to the lake before you’re late for work. I’ll bring you a sack lunch, all right?”