Free To Steal a Prince by Cora Caraway Page A

walk is over.
    Damon lets go of my hands to reach into his jacket pocket. He pulls out a long-stemmed red rose. “Here. It reminded me of you.”
    I stare at him, wide-eyed. I never saw him pluck it. Stunned by his gift, I try to think of something appropriate to say.
    “This has thorns, you know.” I clap my hands over my mouth as soon as the words escape.
    “I told you it reminded me of you.” He laughs.
    I twirl the stem between my fingers. The blossom fills the air around us with its perfume. “What about your mother?”
    “She would have wanted you to have it.” Leaning in, he kisses me on the cheek. “Good night.”
    His lips make my skin tingle. I want to throw myself at him, to press my lips to his until we collapse. But he just winks at me before turning and walking into the darkness. I stare at his retreating back, his tailored suit tight in all the right places. I really regret that this is the last time I’m ever going to see him. The night swallows him, and all that’s left are the fireflies.
    Climbing the stairs, I grip the railing. The whole palace is opulent, too good to be true. Just like my hopes of having Damon. Kicking off my shoes, I fall into bed. I drift to sleep to the sound of the waterfall.

6
    I wake to a grumbling stomach. Opening my eyes, I take in the silk hangings overhead. Oh right. I’m in the palace. If I weren’t so hungry, I could believe I was still dreaming.
    Forcing myself out of bed, I fumble for the panel Damon opened last night. A tray chills in the fridge, and I whip off the silver cover. It’s a small chicken on a bed of greens. I tear off the drumsticks, ignoring the greens for now. It’s an odd breakfast, but it will have to do. I can’t ask Damon where to get food. He’d try to charm me into staying again.
    I’m hungry enough that I eat the legs cold. They’re smaller than I’m used to, and taste a little off. Maybe I’m actually eating a pheasant. That sounds like something rich people would eat. I’ve never even seen one.
    Satisfied with my meal, I set the tray back in the fridge. Reluctantly, I also return the heels I’ve been wearing to the closet. They gleam silver, making me wonder how many months of rent I could get for them. I shut the door firmly. I need to get out of the palace, and hopefully shake this newfound conscience.
    As I scoop up my bag, I notice the rose on the nightstand. It seems wrong to leave it to wilt. After a quick hunt through some drawers, I unearth a sea green glass jar. I fill it with water in the bathroom, then stick the rose in. The stem is too long for the jar, and the rose threatens to slip out. It doesn’t quite fit, a feeling I can relate to. Maybe it can hold on longer than I did.
    I walk from the room, feeling a pang of sadness as I close the blue door behind me. I’m going to miss the thrill of living in this place, the wonder of possibilities. And, if I’m being entirely honest, I’m going to miss Damon.
    The morning is already hot. A car idles by the steps. I recognize Rashad inside.
    “Lady Sparrow!” He steps out of the car. “Are you looking to go somewhere this morning?”
    I’m relieved to see a familiar face. “I want to go to the city center, but I don’t want to bother you.”
    He waves me off before I can ask about cabs. “I can take you.” Walking around to the passenger door, he opens it for me.
    “Are you sure?”
    Rashad gestures for me to enter. I do, not wanting to waste even more of his time arguing. We drive through the gate, leaving the palace and peacocks behind.
    The sun beats down on the city, warming roofs to a bright orange. Noise and traffic build as we wind our way into its heart. My shoulders relax. I definitely feel more comfortable here. I can blend in wherever I want, get lost in a crowd. No one could find me if I didn’t want them to follow. If I do everything right, no one will even notice me.
    “Where do you want me to drop you off?”
    “There,” I point. “By that