“He seems more worried Prince Phillip will steal my heart,” Aurora confided with a laugh.
Lady Fiora laughed, too. “No chance of that. He’s returning home to Ulstead.”
Aurora wondered if her horse had taken a wrong step, because she experienced the curious sensation of her stomach dropping. “That’s not possible. He would have said something.”
Her companion lowered her voice to a whisper. “My maid overheard him talking with a messenger from his kingdom just today. Apparently, he is to depart within the week.”
Aurora took a deep breath, drinking in the familiar scents of the forest. The sun dappled the ground, filtering through the leaves and making shifting patterns along the forest floor. It ought to have made her feel better, but all she could think about was Phillip’s leaving.
Somehow she’d imagined things would go on exactly the way they were.
But of course, that was impossible. His parents must have missed him. And he had duties back home, perhaps even including an obligation to a marriage, as Lord Ortolan suggested—just not one to her.
“Don’t you love it out here?” she forced herself to say, her voice brittle.
Lady Fiora looked around. “I don’t mind being in the forest with a large party, but I worry over sounds. There could be bears. Or adders. Or faeries.”
Aurora considered telling Lady Fiora that bears and snakes would run the other way from all this human noise, but she wasn’t sure Lady Fiora would find that at all reassuring.
“The faeries won’t hurt you,” Aurora attempted.
Lady Fiora gave Aurora a strange look but didn’t contradict her. One didn’t contradict a queen.
“And there are lots of wonderful things in the woods,” Aurora went on, steering her horse toward a wild blackberry patch. She leaned down and plucked a few ripe berries, then held them out to Lady Fiora, who she knew had a sweet tooth. “See?”
Lady Fiora’s delicate nose wrinkled. “Uncooked fruit? That’s sure to make you ill.”
Count Alain rode up beside them, catching sight of the bounty in Aurora’s hand.
“How enterprising,” he said. “Perhaps we can bring those to the kitchen. I am sure the cook would be charmed.”
The palace cook sent up no fruit or vegetable that wasn’t thoroughly stewed or braised or baked into a pie. Aurora had previously supposed that was to show off the skills of the kitchen, not that the nobles believed that eating fruits and vegetables raw would do them harm. Aurora had spent her childhood devouring raw berries, often going home with her hands and mouth stained by them, and no harm had come to her.
She popped the blackberries into her mouth, to the astonishment of her companions.
“Someday soon I hope to convince you to visit my family estates,” Count Alain said, recovering from the shock. “I can see that you have a great appreciation for the outdoors, and my own little corner of Perceforest is quite rustic.”
“You must miss being home,” Aurora said to Count Alain, but it was of Phillip she was really thinking.
“And yet it is hard for me to tear myself from your side,” he said with a smile. “The only solution is for us to go together. There are rivers choked with fish. Woods ripe with game. And, of course, iron mines—the richest in all Perceforest.”
Aurora repressed a shudder. It wasn’t Count Alain’s fault that his part of the kingdom produced iron, which was poisonous to faeries. Iron was useful in other ways. Pots and wagons and barrels all had iron.
“Those mines are the source of my family’s wealth. It has allowed us to construct an estate that I hope will meet with your approval. We have imported orange trees from the south and keep them warm by growing them indoors.”
Before Count Alain could go into more detail about the splendors of his estate, Prince Phillip’s horse trotted up alongside Aurora’s steed.
“I hate to interrupt,” Phillip said, “but I think I may have found a vantage point. We’re very close to the place where you were crowned, in the Moors, aren’t we?”
She remembered that day, remembered her aunties bringing her the crown and Maleficent declaring her the queen who would unite the two kingdoms. She had taken the bark-covered hand of one of the tree warrior sentinels when she’d noticed Phillip was among the faeries, with his gaze on her and a soft smile on his face. Her heart had beat so hard that she’d felt something a little like panic.
That was before she knew about the kiss.
He’s not the one for you, Thistlewit had said later that night. If he couldn’t wake you, then he’s not your true love. Such a pretty boy as that, he probably loves himself a little too well to have room to love anyone else.
At first it had stung to hear that, but later it was a relief. After all, if Phillip didn’t love her, then it was okay to tell him embarrassing things. It was okay to be honest. It was okay to be totally herself.
“Yes,” Aurora said. “Very close.”
“You have been in the Moors before, Prince Phillip?” Lady Fiora asked. “You must be very courageous.”
That earned her a swift glare from her brother.
“Not at all,” Phillip said. “It’s an extraordinary place. There are plants growing there that I’ve never seen before, roses in colors I don’t have the words to name. And everything is alive. Even the rocks move. All the leaves in a tree might take flight and only then would you realize you were in the middle of a swarm of faeries.”
Aurora had never heard a human describe the Moors so beautifully.
Lady Fiora was staring at Prince Phillip as though she thought him even braver than before. “I would have fainted if I saw half those things. But I trust you would have caught me.”
Aurora rolled her eyes. Prince Phillip looked flummoxed by her flirtation. “I suppose I would have tried.”
“If we’re so close and you like them so well, perhaps you should explore the Moors again now,” Count Alain said testily. “That is, if Aurora will let you.”
Phillip laughed. It was a kind laugh—kind enough to draw the sting from Count Alain’s words. “Well, I was wondering if we could see into them from up there. Since Aurora brought us all here to get a look.” He pointed up the hill. There seemed to be a ledge of stone above them, but it meant riding through an area that was both off the path and thick with fir trees.
Aurora steered her horse up the hill with a mischievous grin. “I believe we can. Let’s scout ahead.” Phillip followed her.
“Where are you going?” Lady Fiora called after them.
“To see the Faerie Land!” Prince Phillip called back.
Lady Fiora hesitated, looking at her brother. Count Alain glowered.
Aurora saw Lord Ortolan sitting astride his horse and, despite herself, remembered his warning: He is here to win your land for Ulstead.
But he wasn’t. Phillip was going home. And he hadn’t even told her.
He would go back to his own country and eventually marry a noblewoman there. And while they would always be friends, his life would probably grow busier. He would have less time to spare. She would be less and less a part of his life. The more she thought, the more inevitable it seemed, and the more heartsick she grew.
A little way up the hill, Phillip stopped his horse.
Where the Moors began, the landscape changed. Crystal pools of bright blue water washed around tall pillars of stone, and small rocky islets dotted lakes. The trees were wrapped in bright vines of vibrant green. And Aurora could see clouds of what appeared to be butterflies blow across the sky. Wallerbogs scuttled along the banks. Mushroom faeries peeped out at them from behind rocks while water faeries leaped from the depths, their glowing blue bodies shining in the sunlight.