Thomas stood in front of the crown prince's study. What was he doing here? His Highness had already warned him about meddling, but yet here he was. He moved his hand to the healed cut on his neck again. He must have been hexed—or worse.
Thomas swore. He had lost count of how many times he had told himself this was a bad idea. If the crown prince was in a foul mood, he could really end up without his head this time.
Thomas knocked once. He was already here. He should have just declined and told her to go back inside—that he was not her nursemaid or coachman to take her wherever she wanted.
The door to the study opened, and a servant stepped to the side to let Thomas inside. The servant was clearly on his way out. He bowed while holding the door open.
"Thomas," the crown prince called. He sounded both shocked and curious.
"Your Highness," Thomas said as he stepped into the room. He bowed just as the servant slipped out and shut the door behind him.
