“I’m almost saddened that after tonight there will be no need to show you how far I’d go just to be with you, my heart.” His eyes flared with heat as he took her in.
Evangeline hadn’t changed into a nightgown. Having planned on inviting him up, she was still bundled in a long-sleeved wool dress and a fur-trimmed robe. But from the ravenous way Apollo looked her over, she could have been merely wrapped in a spool of ribbon.
In one dashing move, he lifted Evangeline into his arms and carried her inside.
The room was built for a princess. The pink-and-cream carpets were plush as pillows, the glowing fireplace was crystalline rock, and the floral bed was elegant white oak with floor-to-ceiling posts and a carved headboard the length of an entire wall.
Evangeline briefly forgot how to breathe as Apollo took her straight to that enormous bed and set her down in the middle of its satiny quilts, laying her out like a sacrifice. “I feel as if I’ve been waiting for this forever.”
“Apollo—wait!” She thrust out a hand before he could join her.
“What’s wrong, my heart?” A wrinkle formed between his brows, but his dark eyes were still on fire. “Isn’t this why you wanted me up here?”
Evangeline took a deep breath. She hadn’t anticipated this response from him. All she’d wanted was to talk.
Yesterday, she had tried her hand at opening the library door that led to the books about the Valors, but like every person who’d tried before her, she’d failed. The door was locked by the same curse that warped so many Northern histories and turned them into fairytales. She’d gone back early today to search the library again, but she’d found nothing even remotely related to the Valory Arch, and she’d been too nervous to ask anyone.
Evangeline was also nervous to ask Apollo about the Valory Arch or the prophecy connected to it. She shouldn’t have been. If her questions did break Jacks’s spell, as they had with the Fortuna matriarch, it would be a good thing for Apollo—he would be free of the curse and she would no longer have to worry about fulfilling a dangerous prophecy by marrying him.
But if she was being honest, a part of her did want to marry him. She wanted the chance at the fairytale—another chance at love.
But she knew this wasn’t really love. As soon as she married Apollo, he wouldn’t be this prince anymore. He’d be the prince she’d met her first night in Valorfell, far more likely to dismiss her than to scale a wall to see her.
She sat up and placed her legs over the side of the enormous bed, facing her betrothed like an equal rather than lying down like an offering. “I’m sorry for the confusion. I do want you here, but it’s because I need to ask you about something private.”
“You can say anything to me.” Apollo dropped to his knees, shook the damp from his hair, and looked up at her with utter adoration, eyes smoldering flecks of brown and bronze.
“If this is about tomorrow,” he said, “if you’re nervous about our wedding night, I promise I’ll be gentle.”
“No, it’s not that.” Although now that he mentioned it, Evangeline was suddenly anxious about that, too. But now wasn’t the time for it, since she still hadn’t decided if she was actually going to marry him tomorrow.
“I’ve been trying to learn more about your country, to prepare to be your bride—”
“That’s a wonderful idea, my heart! You’re going to be such an excellent queen,” Apollo crooned, practically breaking into song again.
Evangeline was tempted to end the conversation there. It would be a crime to leave him forever trapped like this. But she couldn’t ignore the prophecy.
She took a deep breath and braced herself, gripping the plush edge of the bed as she asked, “Have you ever heard of the Valory Arch?”
Apollo’s grin turned boyish. “I thought you were going to ask me something frightening.”
She thought she had.
“The Valory Arch is what you would call a fairytale.”
Evangeline wrinkled her brow. “Where I’m from, we call all of your history fairytales.”
“I know.” His dark eyes twinkled with mischief, and for a moment, he didn’t look quite so enchanted. He just looked like a boy, trying to tease a girl.
“Our history was cursed, but there are some tales we believe in more than others. Everyone believes certain things to be real history, like the existence of the Valors. But some of the stories about them have become so twisted over time they’re considered to be what you would call fairytales. Among these is the myth of the Valory Arch.” His voice deepened, turning more dramatic as he slid onto the bed beside her, close, but not quite near enough to touch.