Doon

hands in front of him. “I am unarmed, sir. Show mercy.”

“No mercy for the weak. Choose your weapon!” Lachlan turned sideways, his little feet set in a fencer’s pose, and poked Jamie’s leg with the tip of his sword.

Jamie whirled and snatched a long baguette from the neighboring stall, wielding it in front of him like a weapon. “What be the stakes, Sir Lachlan?”

Clearly this wasn’t their first mock sword fight. I glanced over at Lachlan’s parents. His father grinned indulgently and his mother’s eyes glinted with a kind of pride, perhaps because her son wasn’t intimidated by the future king of Doon.

Lachlan inclined his head in my direction. “We’ll fight for yon lady’s favor.”

A playful grin spread across Jamie’s face and the heavy mantel of responsibility he carried disappeared before my eyes. “Yer on.”

My heart twirled in a joyful pirouette as I watched the way Jamie engaged Lachlan, allowing the boy to gain the upper hand as they danced across the narrow space between stalls, their swords crossing again and again.

Lachlan advanced with wide sweeps, his little face set in concentration. Jamie retreated and then parried, taunting the boy. “Ah, Sir Lachlan, surely a champion of the crown can do better than that.”

“Perhaps ye need to spend more time in the lists, ye nasty rogue!” The boy hefted his sword in both hands and chopped off the end of Jamie’s baguette.

Laughter burst from my chest as Jamie stared in stunned indignation at his broken bread sword.

Pressing his advantage, Lachlan lunged. Jamie leaned into the blow allowing the toy sword to slide between his side and his arm. “Ugg! Ye got me!” The baguette dropped to the ground and Jamie staggered back, hunched over and clutching his gut with both hands.

Lachlan jumped up and down, cheering and waving his weapon in the air as the villainous prince fell to the ground. After a moment, Jamie’s writhing and groaning stilled and Lachlan approached cautiously, leaning over his fallen advisory. Cupping his hand around his mouth, he whispered loudly, “Ye’ll never win the pretty maiden’s heart that way.”

The prince’s eyes popped open. “Ye dinna think?” He grabbed Lachlan around the waist and lifted him into the air, the boy’s giggles echoing through the square as Jamie rolled him into the grass and tickled his ribs.

“Vee, you’ve got to check out this sushi.” Kenna materialized out of nowhere and took my hand to pull me away, but not before Jamie sat up, his laughing eyes locking with mine in a shared, carefree moment. I smiled tentatively, hoping he didn’t notice the blush heating my cheeks.

Jamie’s lips quirked in a rueful grin and then he glanced away, hoisting himself to his feet just as Kenna gave my hand a yank. Reluctantly, I let her guide me away, but my mind lingered on the playful boy who happily indulged a child’s fantasy without any ulterior motive.

Who was the real Jamie MacCrae? A ruthless ruler or a puckish prince? Perhaps he was a bit of both. And just like that, a tiny sprout of hope bloomed in my chest.

CHAPTER 13 Mackenna

After the throne room, I’d commenced something I liked to call Survivor: Brigadoon. The bridge would open in a little less than two weeks. If Vee and I were going to escape with our lives and hearts intact, I couldn’t afford to let my guard down for a second.

Despite the previous day’s Crucible reenactment, Vee still felt this kingdom was her destiny. But when it came to my best friend, I was leaving no man—or in this case, no cheerleader—behind. So unless Prince Not-So-Charming came riding up on a golden unicorn and showered her with rainbows, she was coming home with me.

Vee’d been too busy ogling all the bright, shiny trinkets in the marketplace to notice Jamie shadowing us. Visions or not, he was far too bipolar to be a match for my best friend. She deserved a true prince—not some moody poseur with a crown. Yet, if I knew her, his conflicted Edward Cullen act would hook her faster than meth.

Duncan’s sunny disposition, on the other hand, never faltered. Worlds apart from the golden-haired prince with the tortured soul, our dark-haired benefactor possessed an unwavering heart of gold and a quick sense of humor. Both of which, to my disconcertment, were growing on me.

The afternoon had passed quickly with Duncan shepherding us around the village. In his brother’s absence, he’d even engaged Vee without being flirty. Duncan had also shared quirky little stories from his childhood and pointed out his most favorite places. No matter where he went, people greeted him like a beloved friend. He inquired after their families and promised to come round and help with various carpentry projects. Observing his interactions, I had no doubt every one of those promises would be kept.

If I’d met him on the stage, I would’ve instantly liked him. Heck, I’d have fallen like an avalanche of anvils— especially when he favored me with his smile. But in the not-so-real world, I did my best to keep a civil distance and not succumb to his charms. In two weeks, this would all be as distant a memory as a midsummer night’s dream.

But like my opinion of Duncan, my impression of Doon had grown more favorable with each interaction. I was beginning to understand why Gracie loved this place. It was ideal for dreamers like my aunt and Vee.

The little tavern we were in was a perfect example. The place smelled like heaven—like rising yeast, spices, and roasting meat—yet part of me remained skeptical the dishes could live up to the olfactory tease.

Vee closed her eyes and inhaled appreciatively. For a skinny thing, she sure loved to eat. As she seated herself next to Fiona, she grinned maniacally at the prospect of another fabulous meal. “So, what’s good here?”

Duncan and Fergus sat across from us, their faces mirroring Vee’s food lust. Fergus, who looked like he’d never skipped a meal in his life, licked his lips in anticipation. Perched proudly on his head was a green and blue plaid beret-like cap with a yellow pom-pom. “I’d say just about everythin’.”

As I opened my mouth to request a menu, Duncan interjected from across the table, “I shall order for us!” He caught my eye, his full lips quirking in a lopsided challenge.

“I’ve already taken the liberty of ordering, brother.” Out of thin air, Jamie appeared. He pulled back his Prince of Darkness hood and sat in the empty chair next to Vee as easy as if they’d known one another their whole lives.

Duncan rolled his eyes. His fun-loving demeanor wavered as he regarded his MIA brother. “Decided to join us again, did ye?”

Jamie returned Duncan’s stare with hard, defiant eyes and tightly set lips. “I had business to attend.”

“Really? I struggle to see what could be more important than spending time with your people.”

“I assure you, Duncan, my priorities were exactly where they needed to be.”

Vee’s hand flew to her mouth, her shoulders twitching with—laughter? Jamie’s twinkling eyes darted to her and they shared a secret smile. I had no idea when they had time for an inside joke, since I’d been glued to Vee’s side practically the entire day. Before I could ask what my bestie found so funny, a waitress with dark skin and a bright crimson sari approached bearing a suspiciously flat, round metal tray. Familiar garlic-scented wafts of steam trailed in her wake. I recognized that smell.

“Holy Hammerstein! Is that pizza?” My voice rang so loudly through the room that other diners stopped what they were doing and turned in our direction. But I didn’t care. Doon had pizza!

As the platter containing what looked to be a large pepperoni was set before us, the occupants of our table relaxed. Vee slid Jamie a sidelong glance. “Is this really pizza?”

“Aye. Likely the best you’ll ever eat.” With a chuckle, he handed her a slice. Vee’s thumb brushed Jamie’s palm and he bobbled her food like a fourth-string quarterback. Hand off completed, he paused, his attention singularly focused on the area of her mouth while she bit into the triangle of meat and cheese.

After a moan of culinary bliss, she bit off a larger chunk and swallowed it whole. “Sooo good. I mean—thank you, m’ laird.”