a natural clearing—Were those actual things? His city self didn’t know—or if the trees had been removed. Either way, you could see all the way up to the sky, which was currently clear and blue and just starting to look like dusk was coming. He almost expected there to be some ancient druidic ruins here. He kept rotating, and—whoa. It seemed like there were ruins on one end? “What’s that?”
“It’s a log cabin. The start of one, anyway. Three-quarters of one.”
It was indeed. He moved closer. Construction appeared to have been abandoned—the structure stopped at his eye level and lacked a roof. It had an opening for a door, though, so he ducked under it. “Wow.” The interior was small. He had no idea if internal walls had been planned, but there were spots at which the structure jutted out, and he could well imagine small rooms or at least nooks to create separate uses within an open-concept great room.
Marie followed. “This was my mother’s favorite spot, this clearing.”
“Was it always here, or did someone remove the trees?”
“It was always here. Well, it was always here in my lifetime and hers. She’s the one who had the network of trails put in on the hill, before I was born. Before that, there was just the main road. She hired a landscape architect, but she was very involved, tromping around and helping figure out what the best layout would be. They stumbled on this clearing, and she fell in love with it. She used to come here all the time, to get away from things.”
“To dance like no one was watching—for real,” Leo said.
“Exactly. She would drag my father out here, too, sometimes, and have picnics.” A mischievous smiled bloomed. “Supposedly I was conceived here.”
“Well, hot damn.”
“She brought me here all the time. Some of my first memories are of sitting by the fire out here.” Marie went back out the door opening and Leo followed her. “There’s a firepit out here. Usually my mother and I would come by ourselves, but sometimes my father would come, too.”
It was hard to imagine King Emil kicking back in the clearing, but Leo could totally see young Marie and the mother she had described doing so.
“She used to say it was our secret family place.” Marie continued. “She would tell the palace staff that we were going for a walk, but we would come here. You were surprised that I’m allowed to come and go as I please. I told you about the fence but really, I think my mother is the reason I enjoy what freedom I have—she set those expectations.” She spun in place, looking at the clearing as if she were seeing it for the first time. “Maman thought of this as a place where we could be a regular family. As soon as I was old enough to understand the concept, she swore me to secrecy regarding its existence.”
“So why have you brought me here?” The question came out gruffer than he’d intended. But honestly, he was gobsmacked by this place. By the fact that she’d decided to show it to him.
“I figure you’re safe.”
Safe. He liked that idea. It stirred up something in his chest.
“You’re leaving in a week,” Marie said, “and I think it’s safe to say you’ll probably never be back to Eldovia.”
He didn’t like that idea. Not so much the idea of never coming back to Eldovia, although after the day spent in the village, the place had grown on him. But the thought of never seeing Marie again was . . . unsettling.
“I don’t know.” She seemed dissatisfied with her previous answer and kept talking. “I suppose the truth is that although I’ve kept coming here by myself, it’s become a lonely place. It’s meant to be a family place, but I don’t really have a family anymore.”
Leo was about to reflexively object, but Marie held up a hand. What she said next summed it up better than he could have. “Yes, I have my father. But I don’t really have my father anymore. I have the king.” He couldn’t argue with that, so he said nothing. “As for why I’ve brought you here . . .” She shrugged. “I thought you would like this place. I thought I would like showing it to you.”
I thought I would like showing it to you. Jesus. Her voice had gone all low and sexy. He wouldn’t have thought it was on purpose—Marie was absurdly innocent in