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Jezel had no reason to change herself or the inn... and neither did I.

I didn’t know who I felt most sorry for at that moment—me or Peace.

8

As a meddlesome boss, the next day I asked Peace to take Robin for another walk. I secretly watched until the centaur trotted off into the woods with a giggling fairy riding bareback on his haunches. Whoever thought of turning him into a creature to punish him should have made Lord Alfred the centaur and Prince Robyn the bunny.

One of Peace’s hands clutched his mane desperately, while the other waved excitedly as she chastised him for going too fast. I couldn’t hear the rest of their discussion, but his shoulders shook with wicked, male laughter. Their auras spread to encase each other, and they sweetly bickered. If that wasn’t true love happening, I’d eat my wand and the inn’s.

Bringing my attention back to my dreaded task of shoveling centaur poop, I looked at the massive pile with dread. Instead of getting the worst over as quickly as possible, I closed my eyes and sighed. My back hurt because this was day four of my shoveling stubbornness. My self-righteous refusal to do things my way had finally given way to a whopping amount of self-pity.

Groaning in defeat, I held up Jezel’s wand—the inn’s wand. It sparkled in the shaft of light filtering down across the remaining hay bales. “Okay, you win. Help me, Jezel. I need you.”

When nothing happened, I punched forward with the wand like I was fencing with the beam of sunlight I stood in. I blew out a frustrated breath when my bossy ghost didn’t appear.

“Please,” I said in a more pleading tone despite my resolve not to beg.

Yet still, the spiteful ghost ignored me.

Was this supposed to even be happening? I thought I was the one who summoned her. I was the innkeeper, and she was only a ghost. How could she ignore me and the inn in my time of great need?

Staring at the giant pile in one corner of the centaur’s stall, I made a mental note to buy fewer fibrous vegetables. Maybe I could convert Prince Robyn to being a carnivore before he left. Red meat can accumulate in the colon, leading to less frequent bowel movements. Right?

I shook the wand with more determination than Harry and Ron learning to levitate. “Innkeeper Jezel, I command you to appear.”

By now, Jezel was surely laughing at my lame attempts to call her out. I stopped and hung my head in defeat as the whining began. “Come on, Jezel. I’m sorry. I warned you I wasn’t the person you thought I was.”

“Who are you speaking to?” Gertruda asked with a frown.

I hadn’t seen her enter the stable. She was very stealthy. “No one,” I said casually, suddenly on edge. How long had she been listening to me?

She smirked and pointed to where she’d come in. “I was taking a walk and heard you in the stable talking to someone. I thought I might catch Prince Robin and say hello to him. Instead, I watched you stab a sunbeam with your wand while ranting to your invisible friend.”

I pretended not to have heard the insults in her jabs. Ignoring rudeness was a skill I’d learned from being called to see the Council of Witches so often. Those wankers thought crafting insults were a perk of their magical roles.

“Prince Robin and Princess Peace are out taking a walk together. I’m cleaning the prince’s stall while they’re out. And I wasn’t talking to myself. I was practicing for a play.”

“No, I’m quite sure I heard you talking to yourself. You seemed very animated too. One might think you had gone mad from the dull and dreary menial work you are forced to do.”

I stiffened and felt one of my eyebrows raise. “Well, if you must know, I was talking to an invisible friend. She’s a ghost that lives in my wand. She was the original innkeeper. Does that make more sense to you?”

Gertruda blinked several times before she burst out laughing. “My apologies, innkeeper. Your acting is superb. The level of sincerity in your tone is so realistic that I nearly believed your silly words.”

I smiled at her. Or smirked back. I doubt she would have noticed the difference. Gertruda the Barracuda was as pompous as anyone on the Council of Witches.

“You’re welcome to keep me company, Gertruda. I’m getting ready to shovel centaur shit into a wheelbarrow.”

Gertruda held up a hand. “No, no... I’ll leave you to it. I believe I’ll visit your beautiful backyard gardens. You’re quite the landscape artist too. What’s your secret?”

I chuckled. “I’m a big believer in composting.”

Gertruda laughed again. She glanced at Prince Robyn’s stall. “I was mistaken, Selene. This job does suit you. You appear to have the perfect skills for it.”

She glided back out of the stable door, still laughing at me. I waited to make sure she was actually gone before heading to get the wheelbarrow. The only thing worse than dealing with the fairy queen’s spy would be Prince Robyn returning while I was still shoveling his poop.

Rolling my eyes, I started walking toward where I’d parked the wheelbarrow.

Stop, Jezel ordered in my head.