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Delectable Georgia,

A stiletto made of seaglass? Color me intrigued. I’m certain a glamour could be embedded into the sandal to avoid any unnecessary blood shed. The same cannot be said for your wrath against the shoemaker, who I’m told is a very nice man.

As for the gowns, should I send a larger armoire?

Yours (in every way),

Forrest

P.S. If the gowns truly make you angry, please consider them for me, not you. The fae will expect a certain amount of pomp at the revel.

Harry offered me a quill, and I scratched out a quick reply on my napkin.

CHAPTER 23

The Fae King

Soon, a slip of paper was pushed under my door.

In my frog form, tasks like this were a little more difficult. Of course, I could use my power over the sea breeze to pull the paper to me, but in this form, it often left me feeling fatigued. Much easier to simply retrieve it myself.

So I made my way to the edge of the bed and jumped down on a soft pile of clothes. I hopped over to examine the note.

Dear Forrest,

I am considering you in a gown right now.

Georgia

I laughed out loud, something I hadn’t done in a long time. Then I set the note aside. I really should be reading minutes from the council meeting I missed. We would have plenty of time to talk on our walk this evening. I wondered where she wanted to go.

CHAPTER 24

The Stolen Bride

After lunch, there was another knock at the door. I stormed forward, prepared to battle the shoemaker. Instead, a tall, lean fae woman stood in front of me, dressed in leather and with a smudge of soot on her cheek.

"Hello?" I greeted her uncertainly.

Rosie hopped forward. "Princess Georgia, may I introduce you to Lady Helena, our royal jeweler."

I looked at the woman in surprise. This woman dressed in leather and adorned with soot was a member of the court?

"It’s a pleasure to meet you," she said, giving me a small genteel curtsy and soft smile. She gestured toward her leathers. "Please forgive my appearance. I often work in the smithery. Swords and battle axes need jewels as well."

Hidden among her cascade of dark, auburn hair, I noticed a small pointed cap. "Are you a redcap?" I asked curiously.

For a moment, her canines showed, and her eyes glinted dangerously.

I nearly took a step backward.

But she softened once more. "I am indeed. I’ll admit it is an unusual profession for my kind, but I appreciate the delicate intricacies of life as well as the broad strokes of the battlefield."

I nodded and kept my mouth shut. The last thing I wanted to do was anger a redcap. They were renowned for their bloodthirst.

"Won’t you come in and join me today for tea?" I asked. Wording was important with fae. It was never wise to give them an open invitation. You never knew when they’d arrive—in the dead of night ten years later or perhaps on the eve of your first born’s birth?

Rosie led us to a small table and offered to fetch tea.