A Fragile Enchantment

by Allison Saft

For everyone taking it day by day

I just love dedications

In the morning light, his golden eyes burned with an intensity just north of hostile. And when his gaze locked with hers, she swore her heart stopped.

but perhaps she couldn’t trust herself. She’d always been too credulous—too inclined to see the best in people.

How unromantic, Niamh thought, to see marriage as a battle to be won.

The legs wobbled beneath her weight, and Niamh swore she saw Kit flinch, as though he meant to steady her but stopped himself at the last moment.

She had always loved love. As much as she yearned for it, she couldn’t fathom something so bright and wild.

Kit’s handiwork, as lovely as it was thorny.

I have no desire to twist myself into knots to please people I don’t even respect.”

But the longer she stared at him, that almost boyish hesitation on his face laid bare in the candlelight, it occurred to her that he must’ve been quite lonely here.

Once you strip off all those thorns, he’s not so bad,

Everything was measured, clipped, tamed—just as its owner was. Despite all the green, it struck her as lifeless.

“How did you manage that just by sitting here? It’s almost impressive.” “There’s tons of dirt in here! It’s not that difficult.” “There is,” he conceded. “Most of it is in pots.” “Enough,” she cried indignantly, “I get it already!” He smirked. “It’s as though—”

He made a soft sound—half amusement, half protest—and procured a handkerchief from his breast pocket. “Here.” It was a shockingly gentlemanly gesture coming from him. She expected him to hand it brusquely to her, or maybe toss it in her general direction, but instead, he lowered himself onto one knee before her. She watched him from outside herself as he reached forward to dab at the streak of dirt on her cheekbone.

She had not just crossed a line today. She’d leapt clear over it and left it miles behind her. A girl like her wanting Kit Carmine would not—could not—end well.

Kit lowered himself onto one knee and knitted his fingers together. With all his usual charm and grace, he said, “Get on.” It took her a few moments to process that he wanted her to use his hands as a step.

However, she found it strangely difficult to argue with him when he was on his knees before her. With

Before Niamh could stutter out a reply, Sofia’s bearing turned arctic. The temperature in the room dropped—quite literally. Niamh’s breath misted in the air before her, and gooseflesh broke out on her arms. Even Jack paled at the sudden display of power. “Do not mock her. You know very well she cannot defend herself against you,” said Sofia quietly. “And I have thoughts, yes, if you will hear them.”

YES

But I suppose when you’re dealing with a monster like that every day, you can’t help what you become to survive it.”

Little held more magic in this world than the way people unraveled for her like a ball of yarn when given enough time and patience.

“See? Fathers are universally good for nothing.”

You have a way of drawing things out of people, of bringing what they wish to keep hidden into the light.” Sofia pinned her in place with her cool, assessing gray eyes and rested her hand over Niamh’s. “I believe that is your true gift, not your sewing.”

Pretty things, no matter how small, never failed to delight her.

“Give me some credit here. It’s like watching an entire opera play out every time you two so much as make eye contact with each other. If I’ve noticed, then it won’t be long before the wrong person does. Don’t tempt fate.”

“Don’t force yourself to bear it alone,” she pressed. “Please.” Slowly, the vines fell away like layers and layers of armor sloughing off. His eyes faded back to amber. Somehow, they were still the brightest things she had ever seen. For the first time since he ran off, he looked at her. Truly looked at her. Recognition lit his eyes. “You.”

the last thing she saw were his wide, panicked eyes, and in them, the look of a man who had finally realized the worst of his weaknesses lived outside himself.

“I am so afraid, Kit. I am afraid that I will fail, despite all the pains I have taken. I am afraid I will let everyone down. And deep down, I am afraid that I am horribly, irredeemably selfish because I am so afraid that I will die without having let myself live at all.”

You don’t need to work yourself to the bone. You don’t need to do things for people before you ever think to do a thing for yourself. Whatever you think you have to prove or earn, it’s all in your head. Your existence alone is enough. And if you believe you’ve made no difference at all to anyone, you’re even more clueless than I thought.”

I couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened. I couldn’t remember, but no one let me forget, either. It was like this crater smashed open my life, and one day, I couldn’t step around it anymore. I fell into it. And once I fell, I kept falling, and thinking, until I didn’t want to think anymore. I felt like they wanted me to grieve differently. It felt like they were waiting for me to snap entirely. So I gave them what they wanted.”

Our fates are not sealed. It is never too late to live the way you wish, and you are not doomed to anything. I understand what it’s like to not want to disappoint people. But you deserve to be happy, too. Life is too short, and it is yours.”

“Are you sure?” she blurted out. “After everything that has happened, I understand if you are tired, or—” “Stop talking.” He kissed her.

“Is this a dream?” “I don’t know,” he said huskily, his eyes aglow. “Let me kiss you until dawn, and I suppose we’ll find out.”

Never once had she believed she’d get to feel that way, consumed by passion against her good sense, seen and desired for exactly who she was. Never once had she believed a girl like her would ensnare a prince in some sort of torrid, ill-advised affair.

She longed for casual intimacy: entwining their littlest fingers, nuzzling into his shoulder, or sinking into the comforting weight of his arm around her.

Niamh did not do things by halves. She couldn’t settle for half his life.

There is a way the prince looks at you when he thinks no one is watching.”

she couldn’t envision Kit Carmine ever being as sweet as new growth. He was of hardier stock: a weed growing through cracks in the pavement out of sheer spite.

‘I’ve seen many men like you over the years. You don’t have to hurt yourself because someone else hurt you.’

I knew then I had a choice. I was either going to die there, or I was going to live out of spite.”

His jaw set, and his eyes blazed with defiance. “He can’t send you away so easily. Not if you’re mine.”

“I can’t be your mistress, Kit.” “Then be my wife.”

“Stop criticizing yourself and undercutting your own achievements. Stop cutting off pieces of yourself, when you’re already more than good enough.”

“Don’t deny me only for the sake of denying yourself.”

This had been a fairy tale, after all. Only it ended where it should have begun: with a maiden locked in a tower, tending her spinning wheel alone.

How can that possibly be meaningful, when my family is counting on me?” “Because it’s not meaningful to kill yourself little by little to make people happy!”

“When they hatch, they imprint on the first living thing they see. Most of the time, that’s their mother. But one season, an egg got left behind in the nest, and when the duckling hatched, it imprinted on the duke’s hound. Whatever they imprint on, they swim toward it headlong. Even if it’s dangerous, even if they’re completely wrong, they follow that instinct. It’s the first thing they ever do. They live for love.

“Nothing is guaranteed, Niamh. We all die. You and I are dying right now, but we’re also alive. Love is what makes life worth living. Love is what makes us act when we most need to. That’s what your legacy is. It’s how you love the people around you, not how much you’ve sacrificed for them.”

You have a way of tripping over air.” “Ghosts push me, I’ll have you know!”

ME

There was a fire kindling in his eyes, and fool that she was, she was all too eager to burn.

She wasn’t sure how she hadn’t seen it—truly seen it—before now: the reason Rosa had endured everything like a soldier preparing for battle, the reason Rosa cared little if Kit’s heart was elsewhere, the reason Miriam had helped Niamh without question. Now, it was so beautifully, breathtakingly, heartbreakingly obvious. An invisible thread looped the two of them together. Love.

He is gentlemanly to no one but you. To the rest of the world, he is peevish and extraordinarily rude, and possesses no grace or decorum.”