Page 11 of Kiss and Spell
“Stop!” Whitney held up her hand, effectively quieting him. When she spoke, her voice was firm and had an air of chill. “Remember what’s at stake. Do you really want your father making the final choice for you?”
His stomach tightened and the knot didn’t go away. He reached up and ran his finger over the stone pendant hanging from his neck. It warmed under his touch. Protect the House of Alder. This extended visit to Freya Grove, New Jersey, had knocked him off balance, but he needed to regroup. If he was ever going to get a chance to return to his plush life, he had to think like a main character in a fairy tale. What would Prince Charming do? Find the princess and get to the end of the story. Get to the happy ending so you can go home.
“I won’t do anything else. I promise not to get cursed again,” he said.
Her mouth twitched in annoyance at his teasing.
“I don’t like it when you joke like that,” Whitney said in a soft tone. “Besides, you’re not under a curse—it’s more of an enchantment.”
His mind floundered. “What’s the difference?”
“Your situation is not as dire,” Whitney said. “You have everything within your power to break the curse.”
“I can’t kiss myself,” Xavier pointed out.
“Details, details,” she murmured.
“You are aware I need to bestow a perfect kiss or have it bestowed upon me.” He gritted his teeth, feeling ridiculous even saying such a silly thing. What made a kiss perfect? Flowers? Chocolates? Music playing overhead?
“You’re overthinking things,” Whitney said. She leaned over and lovingly tapped his forehead. “Turn off that beautiful brain of yours and just fall in love.”
Xavier grumbled. Love. He had no place in his life for the merciless emotion that made rulers thoughtless and drove kingdoms to the brink of disaster. Love wouldn’t render him powerless. Plain and simple, love couldn’t hurt him because he didn’t believe in it.
His reputation for being cold about love earned him a not-so-kind nickname in the fae court—the Tin Prince. The one without a heart.
Whitney dropped her hand away and cleared her throat. “Besides, you can’t hurry love. I don’t know why you’re in such a rush to get back there. I understand you wanting to break the enchantment, but you don’t have to rush off once you’ve found your kiss.”
“The Realm’s my home,” he said automatically.
“It’s where you started,” she said sagely. Xavier had a feeling that there was a hidden meaning behind her comment, but it wasn’t clear to him. The Realm was where he started and where he belonged.
Xavier swiveled to Whitney. “You don’t know any more eligible ladies interested in meeting an enchanted prince?”
“Well, there’s always the party,” Whitney said brightly. “I’m hosting a little get-together for a few friends. I’m inviting people from around the Grove. Feel free to bring a guest.”
“I don’t know anyone here.” Xavier scratched his beard thoughtfully. “A little get-together means that you’ve invited at least a hundred people to the house.”
“I have space,” she said.
He couldn’t argue. When he couldn’t sleep last night, Xavier read about the history of Freya Grove on his phone. The town, being a natural threshold of elemental magic, had some supernatural advantages to it but it was nothing compared to the Realm. The Grove, as the locals called it, had a mix of historical and modern buildings that gave the place a distinct, mystic feel. Whitney had purchased one of the largest properties in the area, a huge mansion built during the height of the Gilded Age. The mansion was nestled near Grove Lake and boasted a beautiful view of the tonier houses of Freya Grove. This fact meant Whitney’s party was probably going to be well attended by all.
“Maybe you’ll meet someone at the party.” The sheer optimism in Whitney’s voice made the tips of his ears hurt.
“I’d rather take the night off,” he countered.
“Listen, Xav, you don’t have much time. Before you know it, midsummer will be here and then—” Whitney’s wings lowered. His stomach churned.
Father had been crystal clear when he gave Xavier that ultimatum. Either break the curse—or rather, enchantment—by midsummer or Father would be forced to intervene and get the job done for Xavier.
King Roman Alder wouldn’t let anything silly like a love curse interrupt the plans for his children. Everything, from Xavier’s schooling to his royal duties, had been meticulously structured by Father’s hand. He wasn’t fascinating like his brother Royce or commanding like Primrose, but he was an Alder heir, which mean that he had to act the charming role. At least when he was in Freya Grove, he could pick his perfect kiss himself. That thought weighed on him heavily.
Xavier tented his fingers. “I’m aware, Whitney. I should do more research and figure out… the best strategy.”
She eyed him. “Strategy? Beloved, you’re talking about love, not winning a game show!”
“Maybe I should go on the dating show with the roses,” he said crisply.
Whitney waved him away, dismissing his suggestions. “Find your perfect kiss, and then, voilà, the enchantment is lifted.”