Page 20 of Crownless Heirs

“A dead end?” Sorcha inquired.

“Not exactly,” he replied, pushing aside a curtain of ivy to reveal an opening.

Sorcha’s eyes widened as she beheld the hidden grove, filled with trees she had never seen before. Their silver branches twisted toward the stars, heavy with glowing orange fruit, while nearby, clusters of golden pods hung from broad-leafed plants, their shells gleaming like polished amber.

“What is this place?” Sorcha whispered.

Something in her voice made Maelan glance at her before returning his gaze to the grove. He stepped inside, his smile softening as if reliving a memory.

“When I was a kid, I used to sneak away here,” he explained.

Sorcha followed him between the trees, careful not to brush against the low silver branches.

“You?” she asked, surprised.

“I know. Hard to imagine,” he chuckled.

“No, I can imagine you sneaking away,” Sorcha admitted.

Maelan plucked one of the glowing fruits and tossed it to her, she caught it.

“You had secret hiding places?” she inquired.

“I’m a prince,” he responded, reaching up to pull another fruit from a branch. “Sometimes I needed somewhere people couldn’t find me.” His gaze drifted around the grove, lingering on familiar corners. “I spent half my childhood hiding in this labyrinth.”

For a fleeting second, Sorcha saw a side of him she hadn’t noticed before. She peeled back the skin of the fruit and took a bite.

A sweet citrus burst across her tongue. "Mmmm."

Maelan grinned. "I know."

They settled in the grass beneath the trees. Sorcha sat cross-legged with a pile of fruit beside her while Maelan stretched out on his back, one arm tucked beneath his head.

”Do you think they’ve noticed we’ve gone?” Sorcha asked, lying next to Maelan.

“Oh, absolutely, they probably are running around with half the kingdom looking for us.”

Sorcha turned toward him. Moonlight filtered through the silver branches overhead, bathing him in pale light. The sharp angles of his face had softened; his eyes were fixed on the stars above. He looked peaceful. Maelan was so different from what she had imagined.

For months, he had been Cat—annoying, reckless, impossible to get rid of. Yet sitting here now, listening to him talk about the boy he used to be, Sorcha realized how little she truly knew about him. And somehow that made her want to know more.

As if sensing her gaze, Maelan turned his head and their eyes met. The world seemed to still around them. Sorcha forgot about the labyrinth. The stars. The fruit resting in her lap. All she could see was him. A cool breeze drifted through the grove, and Sorcha shivered.

“Cold?” Maelan asked, looking her over.

“I’m fine.” Sorcha replied, but before she could further explain, another gust swept through the trees, and she shivered again.

A smug grin spread across Maelan’s face. “Would you like to try that again?”

He shifted beside her before she could question what he was doing and draped an arm around her, gently pulling her closer. Maelan settled back against the grass. “There.”

Sorcha relaxed against him. His chest was warm beneath her cheek. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat echoed beneath her ear.

Above them, the moon shone brightly, and the last thing Sorcha remembered was listening to his heartbeat as sleep slowly claimed her.

“There you are!”

The shout jolted Sorcha awake. For one disorienting moment, she had no idea where she was. Then she realized she was still pressed against Maelan’s chest. His arm remained draped around her waist.