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A small smile. “I would.”

Her heart skipped. A smile from Marcellus was like a shooting star, rare and quick, but bright enough to light up any amount of darkness and allow her to hope.

She took a chance on that smile, praying he would grant her an answer—and the chance to know him better. “Why don’t you like your name?”

His eyebrow shot up, as though the question had taken him by surprise. But he didn’t dismiss it. “Do you really want to know?”

She nodded eagerly

He sighed. “Will you go to sleep if I tell you?”

“I will,” she grinned, staring up at him with rapt attention.

He clicked his tongue and put a hand over her face. “At least close your eyes so you have a chance at sleeping.”

She batted his hand away. “Fine.” She lay the side of her head back on his lap and closed her eyes.

Marcellus waited a long beat before saying, “My father idolized Caspian as much as he loved him. He talked constantly about how dedicated Caspian was and how hard he had worked to turn his small country life into something that gave him real influence and the opportunity to work directly with those who had the power to change the world. When I was born, my dad gave me a fancy name with the hopes I would one day have a fancy, important life, just like Caspian. But I never wanted that.

“Caspian kept calling me by my full name to honor his best friend’s wishes.” He glowered at her. “And then you overheard and despite saying I didn’t like it, you insisted on calling me by it.”

“Well you called me Princess despite me saying I didn’t like it.”

“Tough. As your guard, I have a valid excuse.”

“So did I,” she smirked, “as punishment for not respecting your Princess’ wishes.”

He rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say, Princess.”

Thicket bit her lip. “Your father and Caspian sounded close.”

“They were like brothers. He could come visit often, tell me stories about the castle and the wild little princess who always made his job harder.”

Thicket’s heart thrummed. He was talking about her.

Sometimes, she forgot Marcellus didn’t know her before the curse—before she’d lost her memories. Before she became a completely different person.

“What do you know about me? Before I lost my memories?”

Marcellus shrugged. “Not much beyond the stories Caspian would share or the rumors that managed to make their way to Bilya.”

“Like what?”

“Like that you were reckless and crazy and never thought anything through, which clearly hasn’t changed.”

She scowled. “And, what did you think once you met me?”

That is the worst case of bed head I have ever seen, had been his first words. Not her best first impression.

Marcellus brushed her hair away from her face, as though remembering the same thing. His eyes traveled across her face, taking in everything from her freckles to the bridge of her nose all the way down to her lips. His stare was so intense her heart forgot a few beats. Marcellus put a hand over her eyes. “I thought that this girl needed to get some sleep.”

Thicket frowned, the opportunity lost. She bit her lip. She knew she should do as he said and go to sleep. Exhaustion was tugging at her, trying to pull her into sweet oblivion. But she might never get a chance like this again.

She had to ask one more question. Stomach flipping, she said, “Bern wants to travel the world. Lotta wants to continue creating outfits. And Elian has his vision glass empire. But, what about you? What will you do once this is all over?”

His fingers stilled. The abrupt stillness doused her with ice.

He was silent for a long moment. She was half convinced he wouldn’t respond. At least, not in time for her to hear it.