He knew that faeries hated many things, but above all, even more than iron, they hated uncivility.
“This all looks delicious,” Phillip said, somewhat unconvincingly, even to his own ears.
“Try something,” Maleficent said, bringing a black grape to her mouth and biting into it. The moonlight caught on her fangs, making them unmistakable. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so we cooked up a little of everything.”
“Yes, I can see that,” Phillip said, looking at the vast number of mysterious dishes in front of him.
Aurora had a blue egg on her plate, along with some berries and a cake dusted with herbs and honey. The cakes hadn’t scampered over to Phillip yet. She smiled at him and raised one of the menacing black glass goblets to her mouth.
Aurora hoped that humans and faeries could get along. Phillip needed to try. Maleficent might want to frighten him, but she was hardly going to poison him right in front of everyone.
Probably.
He put a spoonful of the soup into his mouth.
It was surprisingly pleasant. He took another spoonful. And another. Then he speared a few mushrooms.
By the time the honey cakes finally came, he was happy to take three.
A raven circled overhead, then swooped down to drop a rodent onto an empty plate. Prince Phillip could not help startling in horror at the mouse’s open mouth and the blood matting its gray fur.
The raven landed beside the plate and began to take apart the dead mouse.
“My apologies,” Maleficent said, looking down the table. “Prince Phillip, would you like some meat?”
Phillip felt a little queasy seeing the mouse’s blood running over the plate and the raven’s beak pulling strips of red flesh from within the fur.
“There is little enough for Diaval. He shouldn’t have to share,” Phillip managed to say.
“But he left you the eyes,” Maleficent said. “They’re the best part. A real delicacy for a raven. They pop like fish eggs in your mouth.”
The table had gone quiet. The faeries stared at him eagerly, waiting.
“I prefer the heart,” Phillip said.
“Phillip—” Aurora began.
But Maleficent rose from her chair. “Do you really? Diaval, you heard the man.”
Diaval hopped over and dropped a small piece of flesh on Prince Phillip’s plate. It was the color of a garnet and half the size of a grape.
He had made an extravagant promise to Maleficent—told her he would do whatever she asked to win her approval. He’d been willing to swear on his life that he meant Aurora no harm.
This was nothing.
He picked up the heart and put it on his tongue. Gagging once, he got it down.
“Delicacy,” he said, choking a little on the word.
All along the table, faeries began to laugh. Aurora stared at him in astonishment, a smile growing on her face.
“You know how to be polite,” Maleficent said finally. “I will give you that. You haven’t screamed once.”
Phillip didn’t admit how close a thing that had been. “It’s been a delightful dinner.”
“I am not sure I would go so far as all that,” Maleficent said.
Aurora nudged her. “Godmother.”
She took a deep breath. “Very well. You are welcome in the Moors. Aurora may even walk you to your horse, if she’d like. But I warn you, be careful what you say. This welcome can be revoked.”
Phillip supposed that was as much as he could have hoped for. He pushed back his chair and stood. “Would you walk with me?”
“With pleasure,” Aurora returned.
Together, they walked away from the banquet table. A cloud of tiny faeries blew around them and away.
“You were so very good tonight,” Aurora said. “And I really do think you impressed my godmother. And you ate—”
“Let’s never speak of it!” he said, and she laughed.
They walked on through the night. Aurora moved through the Moors nimbly, hopping easily from stone to stone.
“I will miss you very much when you’re back in Ulstead,” she said.
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I did get a letter from home asking me to return,” he said, “but I haven’t replied to it yet. That’s not what I came to say to you the other night.”
She turned to him, frowning. “What is it, then?”
Phillip needed to say it the way he’d swallowed that mouse heart: all at once.
“I love you,” he told her.
Her entire demeanor changed, shoulders tensing. “You’re teasing me, aren’t you? Because of everyone’s fussing.”
“I love you,” he repeated. “I love your laugh and the way you see the best in everyone. I love that you’re brave and kind and that you care more about what’s true and right than what anyone thinks—”
“Stop, please,” she said, shaking her head. “Your kiss didn’t end the curse. It wasn’t True Love’s Kiss. That means you can’t love me. You can’t!”
“We met once before that,” Phillip said. “And your aunts were shouting at me to kiss you. That can’t possibly count.”
If anything, that made Aurora look more stricken. “It’s not fair! All the things I said in front of you—the way I acted. Sitting up alone at night and playing games before the fire in our underclothes! I would never have behaved that way if I thought—”
Phillip felt cold all over, cold that extended all the way from his heart to his fingertips. He had thought it was possible that Aurora wouldn’t return his feelings, but he hadn’t expected her to be horrified by his confession.
“I see,” he said stiffly, and made a formal bow. “I should not have spoken. I will take my leave of you.”
“Yes,” Aurora agreed. “You should go.”
And numbly, trying to show nothing of what he felt on his face, he did.
Chapter 19
The day of the festival dawned early. Aurora awoke, kicking off her blankets. She flung open her windows, letting in a rush of sweet air that carried the scents of blooming flowers and baking bread.
None of it made her feel any better.
Every time she thought of Phillip, she had a curious sensation in her chest, as though she were wearing a too-tight corset. And it seemed she couldn’t put thoughts of him aside.
The night before, she’d found herself gazing down at the fountain at the edge of the royal gardens, hoping that she would see Phillip waiting for her there. If he had been, she would have gone down and tried to explain—although she wasn’t sure exactly what she would have said.
Marjory came in, smiling. “Are you eager for the festival to begin?”
“Yes,” Aurora said, trying to focus on that. “Today the humans and the faeries will dance together and eat together. Surely they will see that we’re not so different.”
Aurora thought of what Nanny Stoat had told her: We want enough food in our bellies to be strong, enough warmth in the winter to be hale, and enough leisure to have joy.
But the thought of food and leisure and joy made her mind wander to the monstrous banquet of the night before. Phillip had been such a good guest that everyone had liked him. And she’d been so happy.
Until the end.
Being in love had nearly destroyed Maleficent. Denying love had destroyed King Stefan. And King Stefan’s inability to love Queen Leila had probably ruined her life, too.
Love was terrifying in its power.