She gives the bag a little shake. “Humor me.”
Scowling, I slip my hand into the pouch and pull out a coin. I show it to Madame Corsavina, raising my brows to prove my point.
“Interesting,” she murmurs to herself.
I could ask her what, exactly, she finds interesting, but I’d rather not know. It’s the same as always—a heart with a crown.
Tossing the coin back in the bag, I say, “I suppose I should track down Frederick before he accidentally swears himself to a life of servitude.”
“Yes,” she agrees. “You should find him.”
I leave her, uneasy. It’s not the first time one of the Fae has visited my theater, and it certainly won’t be the last. For the most part, I leave them be, and they don’t bother me. They come for a lark, to experience human things, which is fine. Their money spends the same.
But I don’t like them, and knowing Frederick is entertaining one now puts me on edge. No wonder he was so besotted earlier—he was ensnared by her magic, and he didn’t even know it.
The fool.
I go backstage and find Penelope flirting with Hans. She pulls her eyes away from our current male lead and offers me a smile. “Evening, Alex.”
“Have you seen Frederick?”
Hans nods toward the nearby door. “He just took his pretty friend onto the stage.”
Remembering a night long ago, I’m already in a foul mood when I step through the side wing curtains.
Frederick laughs, facing me as he speaks with a woman in a sapphire gown. Her golden hair tumbles down her back in perfect, loose curls.
I pause, temporarily accosted by memories. Then I shake myself and move forward. Sabine has been too near my mind these last few days, and it’s getting to my head. Am I going to think every blonde-haired woman is the princess, suddenly here in Davon instead of sitting smugly on the throne of West Faerie?
“Frederick,” I call, walking across the stage.
He looks over, grinning. “I was just telling Sabine you would join us shortly.”
My attention latches onto the woman’s name. When she turns, the stage lights catch the metallic threads of her gown, making it look like she’s shimmering.
I come to a dead stop. The air is squeezed from my lungs, and my heart begins to pound. This isn’t my head playing tricks on me—not my memory trying to make every pretty blonde girl I see the princess.
She is the princess.
Sabine stares back at me, even more beautiful than when we first met. She presses her lips together as her eyes meet mine. If there’s recognition in their depths, I cannot tell.
What is the heir of West Faerie doing in my theater? There could only be one reason.
Dull fear mingles with my surprise, distrust making me proceed with caution. This woman isn’t just a Faerie; she’s one of the royal Fae of the Auvenridge Court. Dangerous, powerful.
Rousing myself to action, I continue forward.
“Sabine, may I introduce you to Alexander Devereaux,” Frederick says cordially. “My good friend and the owner of the Gryphon Lane Theater.”
With an enigmatic expression, Sabine extends her gloved hand, waiting for me to take it.
Does she remember me? How could she not? Surely a meeting that has affected me so greatly for years wasn’t a fleeting, easily forgotten night for her?
I clear my throat and bow over her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Sabine.”
She studies me for several long seconds before she finally nods. “You as well, Mr. Devereaux.”
I release her hand, breaking the contact. She shifts back, putting space between us. The blushing girl I remember from my youth is no more. Sabine is stunning and poised. She doesn’t flush, and her eyelashes don’t flutter shyly. But her eyes—they’re the same blue pools I’ve seen too often in my dreams.