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and then I’m going home. Back to New York, back to my mother, back
to my shop, and back to my real life.”
    Demi scowled. “What of your duty to your
people?”
    “I have no people. The closest thing to ‘my
people’ is the neighborhood watch program.” She snorted. “I didn’t know
anything about this. If you’d been honest from the start, I wouldn’t have
come.”
    He stiffened, and his expression bordered on
angry. “I did not lie to you. I assumed your mother had told you of your
birthright. Do not blame me for this shock. I had nothing to do with siring you
or stealing you from your people for twenty-seven years.”
    She swallowed. “I’m sorry,” she said
stiffly. “It’s a shock, you know?”
    He inclined his head, but his eyes still
gleamed with anger. “I suggest you get over your shock. We will be in Bulgainia
in ten minutes. It’s another hour from there to Castle Draganescu. I’ll expect
you to be in control when you meet your father. He doesn’t need to be upset the
first night he finally gets to meet you.”
    Anca opened her mouth to protest.
    “You can tell him of your objections later,
but they should be directed toward him.” Demi sighed. “The decision of whether
or not you will have to assume your duties will rest with him.”
    She frowned at the stiffness in his tone.
“Sorry to bother you.” She couldn’t hide the hint of hurt in her voice.
    “It is no bother,” he said distantly.
    She nibbled on her lip, absurdly hurt at the
barrier he seemed to be erecting between them. “Well, then…” She trailed off,
unable to think of anything to add.
    “If you would like to freshen up, the
bathroom is down the hall. It is prominently marked with a female form.”
    She nodded and slid from the chair. She
didn’t look at Demi as she rushed from the compartment and down the hallway. It
wasn’t until she had locked herself into the small lavatory that she let her
cool expression fade into one of blatant terror. Anca met her haunted brown
eyes in the mirror and was amazed at how much green glowed in their depths.
That only happened when she was emotional.
    She ran a shaky hand through her fall of
dark-brown hair, attempting to restore order to it after its dishevelment from
her nap. Her thoughts weren’t on making herself more presentable though. She
couldn’t stop thinking about Demi’s revelation.
    What did he want from her? More importantly,
what did her father want from her? What if he refused to let her go home? If he
were the king, would anyone defy him to help her leave the country?
    A sinking feeling hit her stomach, and she
bent forward. She started shaking, and tears burned in her eyes. She had to get
home. What would become of her mother and Dragan’s Whimsy if she didn’t?
    Anca
took a deep breath and stood up slowly. She met her eyes in the mirror again
and tried to force a reassuring smile. She just needed a plan.
    Gradually, an idea formed in her mind. She
played it out several times, until she heard the train whistle announcing they
were approaching a stop. She examined herself from head to foot, pleased to see
she appeared steady. Having a plan always calmed her.
    She pasted on a slightly shaky smile and
exited the ladies’ room. Anca couldn’t give Demi even a hint of what she
planned if she hoped to succeed.

 

     

     

    Chapter 4
     

    Anca walked near enough to Demi not to lose
her way, but not so close as to allow him to easily reach out and grab her. She
scanned the platform as they stepped off the train, and was shocked by the lack
of activity. There were a few people milling about, but nothing like she had
seen at Gara Constanta.
    She took a step onto the old wood of the
platform, and it creaked under her shoes. She turned her head to eye the
station, built from gray stones, with a sloped roof. A board of schedules was
posted on the outside, above the window where a clerk stood, but she didn’t
recognize the language.
    Her attention turned to a small