Page 34 of Stolen Princess

I glance down at my tank top, joggers, and worn sneakers.

I only have about seven hundred euros, and I know that won’t get me far. Still, the purple dress on the rack in front of me with the pretty lace bottom and V-neck top that ties behind the neck might be worth a splurge.

I run my fingers over the soft fabric of the top. The thought of wearing this to the festival makes my fingers tingle, and I pull it off the rack and hold it up. It’s sixty euros. I bite into my lip and tuck it against me. I can get one thing. I’ve never worn a dress. They’re hardly practical for me, and I really want to wear this one. Oh, and a swimming costume. I want to swim in the sea. Not that I know how to swim or anything, but I at least want to go in it.

There’s a purple two-piece on another rack, and I think it’s safe to say that purple is officially my favorite color. I giggle, light and giddy and happy. So happy.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I spin on the balls of my feet and march up toward the front. I spot Rhys in the back of the store with some items in his hands. I don’t go over to him. Instead I drop my items on the counter and pick up a chocolate bar from a box sitting on the edge.

“These, please,” I say in Italian, only to gasp. “Oh, I love your hair!” The woman behind the counter has lavender hair. It’s stunning, and I wonder if I could do something like that. I have a lot of hair, and I can’t exactly have it that shade when—if—I return home. But wow.

“Thank you,” she says with a smile. “I did it last night. Good choices. I love this dress.” She holds it up as she scans the tag. “Going somewhere special?”

“The festival in Carona.”

“Fun. I love that festival. It’s magical. I haven’t been in a few years, though.”

“But it was magical?” The words tumble from my lips, eager and more than a little curious.

“Yes. The lanterns are stunning. You’ll see.” She puts my items in a bag. “That’ll be eighty-eight euros.”

I dig through my cash and hand her ninety.

She works on making my change, but her gaze keeps flickering back to me. “You have the same eyes as her.”

“Who?” I question.

“Princess Desta. I’m a bit obsessed,” she says self-consciously. “I’ve read everything there is on her and her kidnapping. She had large, silver-gray eyes. Like yours.”

“Oh.” That pulls me back.

“And blonde hair too.”

Chills race up my spine. “Really?”

She nods and hands me a two-euro coin and the bag. “Yes. Kind of weird, right?”

Before I can formulate a response, Rhys joins me and places his items on the counter. The girl’s jaw drops slightly, and she blushes at the sight of him. Yeah, now you know why I almost drunkenly kissed him not even ten minutes ago.

“Get what you need?” he asks woodenly, skirting me and not making any eye contact at all. Are all men like this? Kind and tender one minute and dismissive assholes the next? If so, I like my fictional and imaginary boyfriends better.

I snicker. I have to share a bed with him tonight.

“Yes,” I reply equally as curt. He doesn’t seem to care or notice.

“Good. We should get going. It’s starting to rain.”

Great. It’s going to be a long night with him.

11

FERRIN

Everything is fucked. Or perhaps the start of something terrifyingly brilliant. Or fucking terrifying.

It started with this…

A: I know you have my daughter. Bring her back to me, and I’ll let you walk away with your life.