The Misplaced Prince[COMPLETE]

Is That You, My Prince?

She watched as Joshua's gaze snapped to the doorway, and the abrupt change within him was dizzying. He stiffened, the relaxed smile that had only started budding on his lips replacing with look of pure contempt, anger leaping in his eyes and lightening them to a burnished gold. Stunned, she whipped around, his fists rising up on their own accord-later she would be surprised that her first instinct was to protect him-and she blinked in confusion at the man sneering from the doorway.

She might have considered him reasonably attractive-even good looking-if she hadn't ever laid eyes on the brooding Adonis behind her. Next to Joshua, the shorter man with the ridiculously thick eyebrows looked weak...limp...too cold.

And too damned lecherous. Kasey froze as his gaze took her in, then landed on Joshua, his brows crooking slightly. The oddest sensation swept over her as she studied him, yet before she could ponder it, the man drawled in the most sickeningly condescending tone, "Two women at a time, brother? That's another story confirmed about your lecherous proclivities."

Kasey shot Joshua a look of surprise-this was his brother, the Earl of Rochester? Aside from the fact that they looked nothing alike, there wasn't a drop of pleasant emotion churning between them.

Joshua's voice was controlled, his face completely devoid of emotion, almost as if she had imagined the dislike from a few moments ago, "This is Lady Kasey, Jared. She was helping me tend to Lady Halstead, who collapsed on way to her bedchamber."

"Ah..." the earl said softly, "is that what you call it now?"

Kasey's mouth dropped open and her gaze flew to Joshua.

Joshua's voice was mild, "I shall not allow you to sully the lady, Jared...Apologize."

"Any woman with you, Joshua, is no lady."

Joshua's reply was a soft, "Apologize."

Kasey watched, surprised that Joshua would let the man-even if he was his brother-speak to him in such a manner without consequences. "Let it be, Joshua." She murmured in disgust, "I shall take my leave." She shivered slightly. Her magic wasn't strong in this realm, and yet she had felt the most curious sensation since the man had entered the room. She rubbed her arms, but as she started to leave, the man's amused chuckle had her stopping short.

"She addresses you so intimately and yet you still wish for me to believe she's a lady? Oh, Joshua!" he said the last in a taunting effeminate moan, finishing with a nasty sputtering laugh.

She stiffened, turning to confront the man. The first word out of his mouth had convinced her that he was too beneath her notice to argue with over his petty insults, yet this was going too far. She could hold her own without needing help from Joshua in wrangling an apology.

But before she could utter a scathing word, a fiery sensation crept over her, almost stunning in its intensity, and she found herself stumbling on her way, clutching at the couch to catch her balance. She gasped, thunderstruck at the sensation.

The next moment she felt a strong grip gently right her, and she stared blankly at Joshua, sputtering.

It had been an instantaneous thing, but even a child in her world could tell what that was-and imprint of strong, potent, magic...but what was even more surprising was...

She looked around wildly, almost expecting King Sebastian to pop out from behind the furniture, his booming voice shaking the chandeliers.

"Lady Kasey, are you okay?"

But it was gone. The imprint had faded as fast as it had come, and as her head cleared, it dawned onto her that she had been feeling the odd sensation of being within the vicinity of innately familiar magic all along. After having been raised by the king, she couldn't mistake his essence.

But that would mean...

She glanced at the Earl, baffled.

"Kasey?"

Joshua's concerned tone had her glancing back at him. "It can't be." She whispered to him. His face was in shadows as he stood before her, but she could still see the glow in his eyes. She stared deep within it, "It can't." she insisted again.

"What can't be?" His voice was calm, and she found herself inordinately soothed by the timbre-she was unused to such control in a man, after being practically raised beside a battlefield in a country on brink of a war.

She turned to look at the Earl again, who was studying her wearily as one would a crazy person, and narrowed her eyes, focusing on him, trying to sense something, anything...

There was nothing. And she yet she was sure she had felt it.

She straightened, stepping away from Joshua, dazed. A part of her ached to feel the familiar magic again-she hadn't felt it for the last three years since she had left the castle to search for the Prince, and her inners suddenly clenched with loneliness, craving the sensation of safety they imparted. She hadn't even realized how much she had come to care for the Kohl bloodlines as if they were her own, if the mere suggestion of them had her trembling with emotion.

But to have it come from the despicable Earl...?

Good God.

"I have a headache." She announced, barely looking at either of them.

"Would you like me to walk you to your-"

"No." she waved Joshua away, picking up her skirts, "I shall find my own way."

She made a swift exit before they could stop her. She needed some time to mull over this. She had to find the Sanchez brothers. Never, in all the years that they and multiple soldiers like them had scoured for the Prince, had an essence matched so hauntingly to the King's.

Yes, they had found fire users. They had found other suspiciously magical humans with faint ties to their realm. But after feeling what she had, the idea that they had considered any of them was nothing short of preposterous.

She couldn't identify what brand of magic she had felt...except it had been pure, unadulterated, Kohl magic.

She could imagine the celebrations already. The country was on a brink of terrible war, and everyone's hopes were pinned on the elusive prince, as if he was the answer to centuries of problems. She could imagine the perpetual shadows of grief and guilt fading from the King's face, his brilliant blue eyes shining in joy at finally finding the grandson he had lamented over banishing for so long. To tell her closest friends, the Sanchez brothers, that their life needn't be about war any longer?

This was the news her people had craved for a lifetime.

And she had never felt more sick.