The Forgotten Crown

Chapter Sixteen

"I cannot believe this," Alastair scoffed from his position in front of Morana. "What do you mean you've never eaten crepes?"

Morana raised her brows at the thin cakes in front of her, covered in powdered sugar, berries and chocolate drizzle. She sniffed the air above them. "This isn't exactly the type of food we have in Molwreeth." She met his eyes and frowned at the way his right brow arched. "What?"

The captain crossed his arms over his chest. "Try it."

Morana narrowed her eyes, but didn't object. She cut a piece off with her fork and then hesitantly plopped it into her mouth. Sugar exploded on her tongue. She chewed slowly, savoring the foreign flavor, sweet and chocolatey. When she swallowed, a smile spread across her face. "It's good."

They'd returned from their walk just a few moments ago, taking the long way around the back of the castle to avoid the busy front entrance. She still wore the light blonde wig, held in place with a plethora of pins. The material weighed down on her head and scratched at her scalp. But it was the only one that appeared natural with her white eyebrows. Alastair took her through the same gardens as before, down into a game park, and then into the grand library. It kept her mind at bay, captivated by the exuberant fae culture. She didn't think about the strange dream or Ferryn's invitation or the odd perfume she'd doused herself with.

Speaking with him had become easier. Alastair was attentive to her inquiries and gave her thorough explanations, mostly. He didn't comment on her ignorance again. She enjoyed the lessons, which still shocked her to admit, and nearly forgot about the guards who trailed after them. The guards were there still, pressed against the wall behind her as she ate.

Alastair had positively lost his mind after she admitted she'd never heard of a crepe once he'd claimed it to be his favorite breakfast food. He demanded the cook to prepare a whole variety of them and had them sent to her room. There were some doused in syrup, some covered in exotic fruits, and others coated in a sweet powder. Alastair ate most of them.

Morana finished the plate, adding it to the pile of dirty china. She leaned back against her sofa, absolutely stuffed. "Not bad."

Alastair offered a small smile. "Better than burned eggs and bacon?"

She shrugged. "Better than burned eggs and bacon."

Alastair lowered his eyes after a long moment. "Well," he said, adjusting the lapels of his doublet, "I'd better get to my duties."

"Where will you be going?"

He stood, the fabric of his shirt pulling tight over toned arms as he stretched. "I have new trainees in the barracks. I need to go down and watch them."

She deflated a little. The clock ticked from the mantle as if to remind her of how long the days were when she was alone. It mocked her. Morana watched Alastair move toward the door. She stood up. "I'd like to join you."

Alastair stopped in his tracks. He turned to face her. "You know I can't allow that."

"Why not? I have a wig and that masking potion."

"I'm sorry."

She planted her hands on her hips. "Did Her Highness not tell you to make me comfortable?" she snapped, not thinking twice about using Ferryn's kindness to her advantage. "I hate being in here." She splayed her arms, gesturing to the room. The captain held her stare for a painful amount of time, long enough that her cheeks grew hot. "I'm trapped in this forsaken country. The least you could do is give me something to pass the time with."

Alastair's jaw tightened. He finally sighed, sliding his stare to his guards. "Two of you follow me. The rest stay here. If Their Highnesses stop by, tell them where to find us."