Something flashed in Pearl's eyes—anger, resolution, warmth, or a combination of all three. The girl has a fire in her, and Ethan has always been attracted to flames. Together they perched on the narrow bench, and, clearing her throat, Pearl offered a condensed version of her life. She told him about the curse when she’d been just a baby. She told him about the Council condemning her to death and her mother’s frantic effort to keep her hidden while protecting her from the evil magic. She told him about Kain’s magic that had given her a temporary reprieve, and her own ability to use the curse to pull herself backward through the centuries until she’d arrived in this time and place. Ethan listened in silence, his expression unreadable. Then, as she stopped speaking to give him the opportunity to absorb her wild tale, he released a harsh breath. “So you are King Edward’s daughter,” he said. He spoke the words slowly. Was he was trying to make sure that he’d heard her right? Or maybe
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