filtered into the room, along with the sound of seagulls.
“The birds are very active tonight,” he murmured.
“Brody, we need to talk.”
“I know.” He closed the window and turned toward her, still wearing the Seer’s face.
Maeve looked away, biting her lip. “When can you shift back to Brody?”
“Midnight.” He tilted his head. “Are you uncomfortable with how I look? I could take on another face. Or I could see Nevis first and come back later.”
“No, I . . . I’ve waited too long. I want to hear everything.”
A knock sounded at the door, and a servant called out, “I have a tray of food for the Seer!”
“Just a minute.” Maeve hurried to the door to unlock it as Brody collapsed on the window seat.
A servant came inside to deposit a tray of food on the table in the sitting area. After lighting the candle there, she bobbed a curtsy and left.
Maeve locked the door once again as an idea popped into her mind. “I know what to do.” She dashed about, blowing out all the candles, then closed the curtains to keep the moonlight from shining in.
As she retreated across the room to the table in the now-dark sitting area, she noted with satisfaction that only a small portion of the room was visible, due to the fire in the hearth. Brody was on the other side of it, a dark form in the shadows.
She sat at the table. “Now we can talk.”
He heaved a sigh. “It’s me, Maeve. It’s only me.”
“I know. But when you look like someone else, it feels too strange to reassure you that I love you—”
“Maeve.” He stood up.
“Don’t . . .”
His form remained still for a moment; then he sat back down on the window seat. “I love you, too. I love you enough that I can let you go if you find it too difficult—”
“I’m not going anywhere!”
“But I’m still cursed, and there’s no guarantee that I’ll ever—”
“Was it my mother?” Maeve’s voice broke and she steeled her nerves to hear the truth. “Was she the one who cursed you?”
There was a pause, then a quiet reply: “Yes.”
Maeve hissed in a breath. You can handle this. You were expecting this. “How long have you known?”
“I knew the minute I heard her voice. When she welcomed me to Aerie Castle.”
“Yesterday?”
“Yes.”
Maeve thought back. After Cahira had welcomed the Seer, he had stumbled on the stairs. It hadn’t been an act. Oh, Brody. Her heart tightened in her chest. “I’m so sorry.”
“Why? It’s not your fault. You had nothing to do with the Sea Witch.”
“I’m her daughter!”
“I don’t give a shit!” He jumped to his feet. “Don’t use your mother as an excuse to turn away from me. If you want to leave me, do it for yourself.”
“I would never leave you!”
He paused for a moment, then asked, “Even if I have to kill her?”
Maeve drew in a shaky breath. “Even then.”
“Then it’s settled.” He took a step toward her. “You will be mine.”
Tears gathered in her eyes. She had always been his. “Is that the last of your secrets? Or is there more?”
He stood still for a short while. “There’s more.”
Good goddesses. In the dark, she fumbled for a goblet and poured some wine into it. “All right. Tell me.”
He paced across the room. “I suppose I should start at the beginning. Twenty-five years ago, I was born on the Isle of Moon.”
“Really? You don’t have an island accent.”
He snorted. “My mother complains about that. She says I’ve been gone too long.”
“I heard you have a mother and sister.” Maeve took a sip.
“I do. Queen Esther and Princess El—”
Maeve sputtered wine all over the table. “Wha—?”
“I’m the second son of King Rudgar and Queen Esther.”
“What? You . . . you’re a prince?”
“Aye. My older brother, Edgar, was the heir.”
“You’re a prince?”
“Aye, Prince Brodgar.”
“You’re Prince Brodgar?”
“Is that a problem?”
She sat back. Good goddesses, she’d heard his name a million times over the years, every time the nuns at the convent had said their prayers for the dead during mass. She’d always believed that the princes had drowned. “I . . . I’m confused.”
He scoffed. “So was I when I found out you’re a princess.”
She winced. “Believe me, I never would have chosen my situation.”
“I understand.” He paced back to the window. “We can’t always control what fate has in store for us.”
Maeve recalled the story she’d heard as a young child. How the king and his two sons had drowned at sea, and the poor queen had