Worried Sabine will object, I begin, “A table for two, but—”
“That sounds lovely,” Sabine interrupts. “Thank you.”
And for reasons I cannot name, my hands begin to sweat as we follow the maître d’ to a table at the corner of the courtyard. We’re seated next to the fountain, partially shielded from the other diners by a tall, potted arborvitae. The table has been set with crisp white linens, and a fat candle burns behind a glass enclosure.
“It’s beautiful,” Sabine says, running her finger over the folded napkin. “Do you come here often?”
“I’ve never been here before,” I admit.
She meets my eyes. “I thought you said pasta was better than baguettes.”
“I’ve had pasta, just not this pasta. But it’s all good.”
“We’ll see,” she says with a smile.
As we make our way through the meal, we talk about the show, the garden, Frederick’s ridiculous cane, and sailing—everything except the ring on Sabine’s finger and the fact that soon, she’ll have to return to Faerie.
“I had a nice day,” Sabine tells me from the steps of Frederick’s townhouse when the evening is over. “Thank you for spending it with me.”
We linger in the porch’s lamplight. If her magic were not blocked, I’d swear the princess cast a spell on me. My heart beats too quickly, and I’m as exhilarated as I am nervous. I edge a little closer, wondering if maybe…
Suddenly, the door opens, flooding the entry with bright light from inside.
“Sabine,” Frederick says, surprised to find us. “And…Alex.”
I glare at him, silently asking why he had to step out now of all times. He laughs, uncomfortable. “I was just going inside.”
“You were already inside,” Sabine points out.
“I was—yes.” He pauses. “And I’m going again.”
He darts away, shutting the door firmly behind him, but the moment is lost.
“Goodnight, princess,” I say, pressing a kiss to Sabine’s knuckles. “Sleep well.”
She smiles, slipping inside behind Frederick. “Goodnight, Alex.”