Do you not wear a covering for your head?” Emily asked, studying Merrick from the scarf tied beneath his chin to the auburn locks of hair near his temple. He did not feel strange under her scrutiny. Instead, it felt like genuine curiosity. “You’ll be sure to catch a cold.”

“I suppose I never considered that,” Merrick replied, glancing through the small bedroom window at the swirling snow outside. “Cassius certainly seems warm.”

“I shall knit you one,” she remarked with a fiery determination in her eyes, and Merrick recalled how Cassius’s description of her included the same sort of prideful resolve he also possessed.

“I would like that very much,” Merrick replied as he glanced around the modest room. He knew Cassius worried about how their meager living arrangements would appear to someone used to lavish surroundings. But to Merrick, it was charming, lived in, and had history. Love lived here, and it warmed his stomach.

His gaze landed on the nightstand beside Emily’s bed, where a photo of a handsome older gentleman was displayed, more than likely their father. And beside the frame was his drawing of Cassius. The likeness between them was uncanny.

“I drew this one day in the forest. Did Cassius tell you?” Merrick asked, motioning to the image, and Emily nodded. “I hoped you would see that…that he is always safe with me at the castle.”

When her eyes softened briefly, it was another glimpse into her bruised heart. He longed to help in some way, to ease her pain and worry, but he didn’t know how. Cassius seemed to carry the same burden, and it made his chest ache.

When he spotted a writing pad alongside some pencils she no doubt used for schoolwork, Merrick walked over to the desk. “Do you think we should surprise him with something from you?”

“You would like to sketch me?” Her eyes were wide and glittering, with a hint of awe.

“If I may?” he replied, settling himself on the chair at her desk and reaching for the pad. “I like to keep my skills sharp just like you must with your knitting.”

He began a rudimentary sketch as he asked more about her hobby.

“I use wool yarn because it helps to keep the chill out.” Her eyes lit up as she spoke. “I’ve made a scarf for each of my teachers as well.”

After another minute, they fell into a companionable silence as if they were just two friends working side by side. She had the habit of biting her lip as she worked, just like Cassius, and it made Merrick smile.

“Do you enjoy living in a castle?” she asked as she concentrated on the points of her knitting needles. “The girls at school think Princess Marjorie stays in the highest peak north of the castle—like Rapunzel.”

“Do they now?” Merrick replied with amusement, recalling the fairy tale. “And do they think a handsome prince will come to her rescue?”

She rolled her eyes dramatically. “I do not like that version. One time, Cassius told us a story where the princess rescued a handsome but wretched young man and they lived happily ever after in the castle. That was more to my liking.”

Merrick chuckled. “Princess Marjorie would definitely like that version as well.”

He suddenly felt guilty that he hadn’t spent enough time of late with his own sister, and he vowed to remedy that soon. Marjorie would certainly like Emily because she possessed the same fire that came from somewhere within. She’d enjoy Elizabeth and Annabelle too.

“Cassius speaks of you often,” he remarked as he studied the arch of her eyebrow on the page. It wasn’t his best work, but he was talented enough to capture her likeness with a few more sweeping arcs of the pencil.

“You have become friends, then?” she asked hesitantly, as if unsure whether it was her place to ask such a thing of the prince of Evergreen.

“Yes, we have become good companions.” His chest ached at the truth of his own words.

She nodded and looked down at her pattern. “I am glad. He could use a good friend.”

“It sounds like you miss him,” Merrick replied in a gentle voice. “I know he desperately misses you.”

Her gaze flew up to meet his. “I do not want him to worry. I know he thinks I am cross with him.”

Merrick’s eyebrows drew together. “You are not?”

She shook her head and looked down. “I am only sad and lonely for him. I miss him, and the feeling is sometimes stronger after we speak.”

Merrick felt like there was a boulder lodged in his throat. He longed to invite Cas’s family to the castle, but his parents, as well as the entire staff, would think he’d gone mad. He did not want to bring Cassius any more trouble.

After another quiet minute, Cassius appeared at the door, tentative, and glanced at them curiously.

Merrick stood up and leaned over to show Emily the sketch. Her eyes widened and gleamed. “Would you like to present it to him?” he whispered.

She nodded as she fished it from his fingers, her gaze never leaving the paper as she marveled over it. Merrick felt a sense of pride that he could please her so.

Finally, she held the drawing out to her brother. “This is for you…so that you’ll know I’m all right.”

Cassius’s breath caught even as his eyes misted over. Something passed between the siblings across the small space, and as Cassius stepped forward to pull his sister into a hug, Merrick slipped out of the room to give them privacy.

“It was so lovely to meet you,” Merrick said, bowing again to Annabelle. “I hope my visit wasn’t too much trouble.”

“Not at all. It was wonderful to see my son…and to meet you.” Her cheeks flushed, and she glanced down at her lap, which was covered with a blanket. “I made some tea to get you both warm. I added a peppermint stick to help settle your stomach.”

Annabelle proceeded to pour from the teapot, and Merrick picked up the steaming cup and sipped at it gratefully. “It is delicious. Thank you.”

As she studied him curiously, there was something knowing in her gaze, and it gave Merrick pause. Just as she was about to ask something, Cassius and Emily joined them in the kitchen. Their mother smiled warmly at their clasped fingers and the drawing in Cassius’s other hand.

Cassius met his gaze. “We must be getting back on the road now.”

Annabelle glanced over his shoulder to the window, where the flakes were dancing against the glass. “Be careful.”

After they said their goodbyes, Merrick slid into the back seat, knowing many pairs of eyes were on them from not only inside the house, but the neighbor’s as well. It wasn’t every day that a black, polished motorcar drove into the modest Wandermere neighborhood. Thankfully though, royal cars were unmarked so as not to call too much attention while traveling. But the people of Evergreen were dutiful and resolute, and royalty moving around them wasn’t anything they got up in arms about. They had more important things to tend to, and that made Merrick proud to serve them.

The snow was falling heavily, and Cassius kept his eyes on the nearly deserted road ahead of him. It wasn’t until the valet made his way to the winding canyon that would take them back toward Pinewood Castle that he finally spoke.

“Thank you for that, Merrick.”

“No, thank you. Your family is lovely, and I can see why you miss them so.”

But just as he said the words, they drove over an icy patch of road and the car jolted wildly to the left and began spinning. Merrick held on to the back of the seat as Cassius’s hands moved swiftly over the wheel, counterclockwise, in an attempt to gain control of the motorcar. Just as they were about to land in a ditch, the car straightened out on the side of the road.

“Are you okay, Your Highness?” Cassius asked in a frightened tone.

“I’m okay, only startled,” he replied with a hefty pant, his pulse pitched. “Nice work handling the vehicle.”

As Cassius’s heavy breaths fogged up the front seat windows, Merrick knew the roads were too treacherous for them to traverse in the dark. “We should find lodging for the night.”

Cassius’s eyes widened in the mirror. “No, I can—”

“It is too dangerous,” Merrick replied fervently. It was not worth it if it cost them their lives. But at least they’d be together, Merrick thought as a shiver raced up his spine.

Cassius nodded in agreement but kept his eyes trained forward, possibly considering their options or because he felt embarrassed that their stop at his family home had delayed their departure.

“I know of a place,” Cassius finally said. “The innkeeper will allow your presence there to remain…discreet.”

When Cassius turned and met his gaze, Merrick knew he was referring to something more than anonymous lodging. And for some reason, the idea of it made his entire body tremble. “Very well,” he replied around a parched throat.

Once the tires of the motorcar cautiously met the road again, they headed east, and in several minutes came to a small, unmarked building in the middle of nowhere, it seemed. The only telltale sign it was for lodging was the Open sign in the front window. Cassius pulled in at the back of the structure and parked at the far end of the lot. Soon the falling snow would conceal the motorcar as completely as it did the other handful of automobiles parked there.

They exited the car, their heads bowed against the blowing snow. They came upon the back entrance, and once inside, two doors—one leading to a lower level, from where Merrick could swear he heard the faint sound of music playing, and the other leading to the lobby of the inn.

“Cas,” the tall, attractive man at the desk said, meeting their gazes. Merrick felt a stab of jealousy that he seemed so familiar with his valet.

The man bowed his head. “Your Highness.”

“Isayas, we spun out on the road and cannot possibly make it back to the castle this evening. We’ll…need a room and…some discretion.”

“Of course,” he replied, reaching for a key hanging on a hook behind him. “Second floor, room 22. No one will know you are there.”

Merrick breathed a sigh of relief even as he marveled at the scenario before them. Did Cassius come here often? How well did he know Isayas? He shook the ridiculous thoughts from his head. For now, he was glad they were somewhere safe and dry. And alone. His heartbeat pounded in his ears.

“Is there a way to get word back to the castle?” Merrick asked the innkeeper. “To let my family know we will return in the morning, once the storm passes?”

“Certainly,” he replied, opening a drawer that was below eye level of the counter. “I will send a tray up to your room as well.”