The Gilded Fae (Royal Fae of Rose Briar Woods 2)

“We’ll be along shortly,” Alex assures her.

“Of course.” She gives him that smile again and then silkily adds, “Alex.”

A smile freezes on his face, and I bite my tongue to keep from laughing. She walks past me, giving me the barest of nods, and then disappears out the door, taking Frederick along with her.

“You seem to have an admirer,” I say to Alex when we’re alone. “Frederick isn’t impressed.”

“Frederick and Candace courted for about a year. They called off their engagement but remained friendly. I’ve occasionally wondered if they haven’t harbored residual feelings for each other.” Uncomfortable, Alex reminds me, “But even if she is hoping to needle Frederick, Candace is engaged.”

“Perhaps her interest in you has nothing to do with Frederick,” I say, unable to resist the opportunity to poke at him. “I suppose such infatuation is bound to happen when the director is young and handsome. She probably can’t help herself, poor thing. You’ll have to be careful.”

I laugh, heading for the door. But before I reach it, Alex steps up behind me, catching me with a hand to the curve of my waist. “Just a moment, princess.”

My entire focus is upon his hand—the weight of it, his warmth, the length of his fingers as they gently press into me. Even through my gown and corset, the touch feels intimate.

Alex drops his voice to a dark whisper, “Just so you’re aware, if I were to enter into a forbidden affair with a cast member, it wouldn’t be with Candace.”

I swallow as I stare at the door. “I see you’ve put some thought into this.”

“Five years of thought.” He then reaches around me and opens the door. “But we can return to that subject later. Right now, we have a rehearsal to join. After you, Your Highness.”

Pretending I’m not flustered, I walk with Alex into the theater foyer and through the house doors. People stop their conversations to watch us enter, and I feel vulnerable without my magic shielding me. If I move wrong, or casually brush my hair behind my ear, the cast will quickly realize I’m not human.

“Everyone, find a place to sit,” Alex says as he steps past me, slipping into his role of director. “We’ll go over a few notes, and then we’ll begin.”

I choose a seat behind the others, but I can still feel people’s stares as they casually glance back. Ignoring them, I focus on Alex.

“First things first—the casting is final.” He leans against the stage, commanding his audience just as he did the night I first saw him perform. “If you truly detest the role I’ve given you, tell me now, and you can leave the show.”

When there are no takers, he continues, “I’ve cast two women to play Allora. Candace Whitmore will be doing the stage role—”

He’s interrupted by boisterous applause.

“And Sabine”—Alex pauses, realizing he cannot fully introduce me—“will be singing.”

Again, I have the room’s attention. No one cheers for me, but they watch me with curious eyes, wondering who I am and how I ended up with the role.

Alex then draws their attention back to the front, introducing the rest of the cast and reading off a list of the understudies. After that, he goes over the rules, and then he says, “Let’s begin the read-through. If you don’t already have your script, please see Dennis.”

While the cast prepares, Alex walks toward me. “Sabine, you’ll go with Lesley and work on your pieces.”

Disappointed, as I was hoping to listen to the read-through, I nod.

As if reading my mind, Alex says, “You’ll join us again before we’re finished for the day.”

A few minutes later, I follow a woman to one of the rooms backstage while the others begin reading through their lines.

“How did you meet Mr. Devereaux?” Lesley asks as she settles at a piano and begins to shuffle through a stack of music.

There’s no natural light in the room, but lamps burn on the walls, making it bright enough to see. However, I’ve been inside long enough today, and I’m beginning to miss sunshine and growing things. Even though my magic is bound, I still yearn for it.

“I saw the director perform several years ago,” I say. “We met after the performance.”

“It must have been before his year in—” Lesley cuts herself off, clearing her throat as if uncomfortable.

“Alex hasn’t performed since he returned to Davon?” I ask, surprised.

She gives me a nervous look. “We don’t really talk about it.”