Page 6 of Cursed (Court of Isles #1)

Chapter 6

Once we reached Wisteria Cottage, Silas and I climbed down from the horses. He walked me to the front door, then we both came to a stop.

“Do you want to come in?” I felt a bit awkward asking, seeing as this was Silas’s property.

“I can’t.” He leaned against the doorframe. “There are some things I need to take care of, and you need your rest.”

I didn’t argue because he wasn’t wrong. I was completely wiped out, and even though it was barely afternoon, I felt like I could sleep until tomorrow.

“I have more questions for you,” I said.

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t. I’ll be back for you tomorrow.”

“To do what?” I asked. “Where do we go from here?”

Silas considered his words. “I’m not sure.”

“Okie dokie.”

“We’ll figure it out,” he promised. “Tomorrow, once you’ve recovered. ”

“It’s been a big day,” I said in the understatement of the century. “I could use some sleep.”

Silas leaned in, and some part of my belly fluttered, like maybe he’d just brush a kiss against my forehead. Instead, he whispered in my ear, “Sweet dreams, Alessia.”

Then he opened the door, rested a hand on my lower back, and all but pushed me inside. Millie clattered about in the kitchen, and I could smell bread baking and coffee brewing. A fresh watermelon was sliced on the table, my mouth salivating at the cold, crispy fruit.

When I turned back to bid Silas goodbye, he was already gone. I blinked.

“He does that,” Millie said, joining me by the door. “Disappears, I mean. Sort of his M.O.”

“Ah,” I said. Then, “Millie, I think I’m tired.”

“I think so too, Doc,” she said. “Go climb in bed, and I’ll bring you some tea and toast.”

But if Millie brought me tea and toast, I missed it. I took a quick shower to scrub off the trip through The Forest, and also the blood from the siren, and then slipped into a thin, freshly laundered nightgown that smelled like lavender and lilac.

I was asleep by the time my head hit the pillow.

The next time I opened my eyes, the sun was shining again, and I was pretty sure I’d slept through the whole night. I crept out of bed and headed into the kitchen where I found Millie, still clattering around. It was almost like the last eighteen hours or so had been gobbled up in an abyss, and nothing had really happened.

Except things had happened. I squinted out into the courtyard, hearing a hustle and bustle that was new. Lots of voices, also new. The smell of food—also new.

“Millie,” I said, wrapping a shawl over my thin nightgown. “What’s going on?”

“Good morning, Doc,” Millie said in a high-pitched voice, well into an octave that aroused suspicion. “Did you sleep well?”

“Very well,” I said. “Too well. How long was I out?”

“Long enough,” Millie said. “In fact, so long it’s actually your party right now, so why don’t you pop back into your room and get dressed? They’ll be wanting to see you as soon as you’re ready.”

“Millie!” I said. “My party?”

“That little welcome party I mentioned. People want to meet you. It’s not often we get a new doctor on the island.”

“But—”

“Can we save your arguments for a later date?” Millie asked in a way that wasn’t really a request but more of a command. “I’ve been trying to hold these people off, but my figgy pudding and strawberry shortcake is only going to keep Bert happy for so long. The people are getting restless for a glimpse of the guest of honor.”

Millie steered me back to my room. She snapped her fingers, and a moment later, a couple of bluejays flew through the window hauling a dress in their beaks.

“I’m helping you .” Millie sounded defensive, like I might tattle on her for this use of magic. “I have a way with my feathery friends.”

“Okie dokie,” I said, and looked on in awe as they dropped the dress on the bed.

“It needed to be steamed,” Millie explained. “I was working on it outside while you were sleeping.”

Once I’d properly slid into the dress, I took a moment to stand in front of the full-length mirror and study myself. The dress was a play in movement and florals. A lovely, complex shade of blue, the gown was slim with strappy sleeves. The underlayer was a silky gray, the outer layer a gauzy purple embroidered with flowers and hummingbirds and bees.

As I looked closer, I realized those decals were actually moving. The embroidered birds and bees flitted about like they were alive. The tiny wisteria decals swished in an imaginary breeze as I walked.

“I ordered this dress from Wanda of Wanda’s Weddings,” Millie said. “She usually goes over the top, but I requested something that I thought was more your style.”

“This isn’t over the top?”

Millie grinned. “For Wanda, this is downright demure. ”

A few days ago, I wouldn’t have said an enchanted gown of any variety was my style, but right now, this felt right. It fit me perfectly, moved in a way that felt light and lovely. I didn’t mind the pencil-thin straps or the low back because somehow, it felt like it’d been made exclusively for me.

“The figgy pudding is gone,” Millie said, as I stared in the mirror. “As is the hot dish. It’s really time to get out there, sweetie.”

I nodded, feeling like I was in some sort of fairy tale that’d come alive. I moved behind Millie like my feet were floating. Millie pushed open the doors to the backyard, gesturing for me to follow behind.

When I stepped into the sunlight, my dress burst to life. The little decals fluttered and waved in the breeze, preening in the sunlight as if they, too, loved the warmth. A muted glitter shimmered from within the fabric. It had a joyful, vibrant personality of its own.

“I forgot one thing.” Millie turned, rummaged on a table near her, and unearthed something from my former life. My human life. “Your crown.”

Before I could resist, Millie nestled the tiara I’d worn on my wedding day into my hair. This time, my curls weren’t unnaturally bleached by the salon; they’d been gently lightened by the sunlight. My hair wasn’t crimped and scorched with tools, stuck to my scalp with painful pins. This time, my hair had dried naturally and flowed in wild, sea-salt waves down my back. It all felt so easy, so right.

The burst of chatter came to a stop as people noticed my presence one at a time, like a wave spreading across the cottage garden. Except the party didn’t stop at the garden’s edge. It extended beyond and beyond and beyond. I could see people behind the fence, some on others’ shoulders, trying to get a glimpse of something. Of me?

I shifted, feeling uncomfortable with the attention.

“It’s her.”

“She’s arrived!”

“A natural beauty.”

“How astounding.”

I heard clips and broken phrases as hushed whispers moved through the crowd. All eyes landed on me. I had no clue what to do, so I very slowly gave the slightest of curtsies, twitching my dress and bowing my head to the general crowd. It was slightly awkward, but apparently the right thing to do.

The reply was immediate and overwhelming. One by one, like the wave of conversation and whispers before, the guests bowed to me. Deep, lingering bows in my direction. The courtyard stilled, the only sound a faint beating of butterfly wings and the swaying of flowery stalks.

I felt his presence before I saw him. A dark shadow along one wall, towering over everyone else. Big, bold, dressed in black against everyone else’s bright displays of jubilation. The dress code seemed to be pastels and florals, but for Silas it was black. Hunter black.

Except apparently, we were keeping that bit of his history a secret for some reason.

When I raised my head from my bow, I glanced toward Silas. He was watching me closely, studying me from the tip of my tiara down to my bare feet beneath my gown. A sparkle of approval danced in those onyx pools.

When Silas caught my eye, he gave the slightest of smiles—and then he, too, bowed. Just a nod of the head, but enough.

“Thank you for the warm reception.” I forced my attention away from Silas and addressed the crowd. “Your presence means more to me than you could ever know.”

As I smiled, I glanced around the crowd and found Irina and Henry. They were seated next to Lily and Ranger X. Millie stood in the background. In the strangest of ways, I already felt more at home here, in a crowd full of strangers, than I’d ever felt in Manhattan.

“I come from the mainland,” I said, using the words I’d heard Millie use yesterday. “Until a few days ago, I didn’t know a world like this existed. I must admit: it’s more magnificent than my wildest dreams.”

A few nods. I remembered Silas saying that I would never meet someone who loved their home as much as an islander. I could feel that love in a palpable way from this crowd, a close-knit unit of people who would protect this place until their last breath.

“I’m honored that you all would let me spend a little time here,” I said. “For however long it may be, thank you for such a warm welcome.”

I glanced at Millie. She gave me a watery smile, then dabbed at her eyes, wiping away tears. She nodded vigorously and gave me a not-so-subtle thumbs-up.

“You’re a doctor?” someone called from the audience. “Can you help us?”

“I’m new here,” I said. “To be honest, I don’t understand magic.”

“You healed Irina and the baby,” the same voice said. “Will you help us?”

“I mean—” I glanced at Silas, but he was watching me with rapt attention, like he wanted to know the answer too. “I’ll do what I can, but I can’t promise I’ll be any good at it. I’m not in the habit of making promises I can’t keep.”

I paused then, feeling like something was happening. Indeed, a few moments later, the group of guests parted, and a small child came forth with a woman beside her.

“Eloise has a mystery rash,” said the woman accompanying the child, probably Eloise’s mother. “Please, will you look at her? The Healers don’t know what’s wrong.”

I licked my lips, gave a nod. Then I glanced toward Millie.

“Can you get my things?” I asked her.

Millie smiled, bowing her head, and retrieved a cart where she had stashed the medical supplies we’d unearthed the other day. She pushed it toward me. It was laden with all sorts of devices and tools, bandages and wraps, needles and compresses.

“I went through more of Mr. Silas’s grandmother’s things yesterday,” Millie said sheepishly. “Turns out, she stored a lot of things in that old shed out back.”

I turned my attention to the beautiful little girl with the mystery ailment. Eloise was looking up at me with saucer-sized blue eyes, and it seemed a queue was forming behind her as men and women and children lamented illnesses of all shapes and sizes.

“Here you go, Doc.” Millie winked, setting a cup of coffee beside me. “I’ve put a little enchantment on here so that your cup will refill as it gets low. It also keeps at a nice warm temperature.”

“Curses and coffee,” I muttered, taking a sip.

“We may have our magic and dragons,” Millie said. “But we still love a good cup of coffee.”

I scalded my mouth swallowing a gulp of coffee. “Did you say dragons ?”