AUTHOR'S POV.

Dim moonlight filtered through the cobweb-laden window of an old forgotten storage room in the palace casting an eerie glow on Will's tense features. He paced about restlessly, his frustration mounting with each passing minute. Giselle was supposed to meet him here but she was running late and he began to fear that she wouldn't show up.

The silence was broken by the soft creak of the door. Will whirled around, his hand reaching for the concealed dagger strapped to his thigh. Relief washed over him as he saw Giselle clothed in a simple brown cloak walk in and close the door behind her.

“Giselle…” he breathed, lowering...