Page 15 of Deals & Dream Spells (The Charmed Leaf Legacy #2)

“Oh, come now,” Petunia interrupted with a snort. “That’s hardly an excuse for their behavior. The truth remains, Mari. They’re simply dreadful people.”

The blunt assessment hung in the air between them, and Mariselle found she couldn’t quite summon a convincing argument against it. If she was being honest, most members of her family weren’t particularly nice, but it was circumstances beyond their control that had forced them to be that way.

And they weren’t all dreadful. Mariselle had been close to her grandmother once, when she was a child. But Lady Nirella had withdrawn to one of the more modest Brightcrest properties on the outskirts of Bloomhaven years ago and had grown more distant with each passing Season.

As for Mariselle’s brother Alaryn, he’d effectively escaped the worst of their family’s dynamics by managing a separate branch of the dream magic business far from the main estate after his marriage several years ago .

“Perhaps you’re right about them,” Mariselle said quietly, unable to meet Petunia’s knowing gaze. “But they’re our family , Tunia. The only family we get. And I want to feel as though I belong in the family I was born into. Don’t you?”

Petunia arched a brow. “Even if belonging means joining Ellowa when she tears others to shreds?”

Mariselle felt that familiar twist of shame.

This well-worn argument had passed between them countless times before—Petunia’s steadfast disapproval of the cold, cutting persona Mariselle adopted in her sister’s presence.

But Petunia had never fully understood the delicate balance Mariselle maintained.

When Ellowa set her sights on a target, there were only ever two options: join in, or pay the price later.

But if Mariselle could prove her worth to her family, everything would change. Ellowa wouldn’t dare treat her as a disposable pawn any longer. She’d finally be free of her sister’s cruel games.

Mariselle squared her shoulder and quietly asked, “Will you help me?”

Petunia sighed, her expression softening almost imperceptibly. “Of course I will.”

Mariselle launched herself from her chair and threw her arms around her cousin, nearly knocking them both over in her enthusiasm. “Thank you, thank you!”

Petunia returned the embrace, her arms tightening briefly around Mariselle’s shoulders.

“I can’t exactly refuse and leave you working alone in that cottage with Evryn Rowanwood.

The impropriety is staggering. If someone discovered the two of you alone there, your reputation would be utterly ruined. ”

Mariselle couldn’t help her snort of laughter as she released her cousin and settled back in her chair. “As if I don’t already commit reputation-ruining acts on a regular basis. Imagine if someone discovered me racing a pegasus through the night.”

“I imagine it regularly, and I still maintain that your enthusiasm for plummeting through the darkness astride a temperamental magical beast is evidence of a deeply concerning absence of self-preservation instinct.”

Mariselle sighed happily, imagining the intoxicating freedom of soaring above the sleeping town, that delicious shiver of exhilaration racing down her spine with each swift dive and turn. “It is truly marvelous. ”

Petunia groaned and rolled her eyes.

“And you’ll need to set aside your own self-preservation instinct, dear cousin,” Mariselle continued, refocusing on Petunia, “because you shall soon be joining me for nocturnal pegasus flights to the cottage.”

“No thank you. I shall walk.”

A bubble of laughter burst from Mariselle’s lips. “Through town? In the middle of the night? A young lady of quality, unescorted? And you say I’m the reckless one.”

“At least on the ground, the worst that can happen is a twisted ankle or a damaged reputation,” Petunia countered. “Not plummeting to one’s death.”

“Cinder has never dropped anyone,” Mariselle insisted, reaching across to grab Petunia’s hand. “It will be fun, I promise.”

“Very well,” Petunia conceded with exaggerated resignation. “I shall ride the beast if I must, but I categorically refuse to enjoy it.”

“How perfectly in character,” Mariselle replied with a teasing smile. “Your determined commitment to misery is truly admirable.”

Petunia stuck her tongue out in a rare display of childishness. Both cousins dissolved into laughter then, the tension of their earlier conversation melting away.

“I suppose we could steal one of my family’s enchanted carriages,” Mariselle said once their mirth had subsided. “There’s a cloaking spell I’ve been wanting to try out. I think with a few adjustments, I could extend it to cover an entire carriage.”

“Oh, that’s a much better idea! I approve.”

Mariselle smiled. “It’s settled then. We’ll take a carriage to Windsong Cottage.

Tonight, if you can sneak out. Just the two of us.

I’d like to examine all the documents before involving that Rowanwood further.

The less time spent in his company, the better.

And you’ll love the cottage, Tunia. It’s simply delightful.

So cozy. Oh, and I found a whole collection of journals belonging to the woman who originally owned the cottage before my grandfather ended up with it as part of the land acquisition for Dreamland.

Lady Eugenia something-or-other. She was a renowned botanist. The journals are quite fascinating—though nothing to do with Dreamland of course. ”

Petunia wrinkled her nose. “Mm, yes. Nothing says thrilling like centuries-old notes on root systems.”

“Petunia! They’re not centuries old. ”

“Let me guess—volume seven is titled ‘The Thrilling Adventures of Lady Eugenia and her Pet Dandelions.’”

“Tunia.”

“And I was just lamenting the lack of bedtime reading about chlorophyll.”

“Oh, stop it.”

“Truly, Mari, I can’t imagine why you didn’t open with this. Plant journals are the very height of intrigue.”

With a sigh, Mariselle stood, recognizing that her cousin was in full flow with her jests and deciding it was best to leave before becoming thoroughly entangled in an endless thicket of botanical witticisms.

“I should return before anyone notices my absence,” she announced.

Petunia released her own sigh before standing as well. “Yes, I suppose I should too.”

The two embraced once more. Petunia lifted the basket, slipping it deftly onto her arm through the woven handle so it rested in the crook of her elbow, before they walked to the greenhouse door.

“You’ll have to send a note with one of the pixies if we need to change our plans,” Mariselle said. “We can’t speak via the mirrors at the moment. Mine broke last night in my hasty attempt to hide it when my mother returned home unexpectedly.”

“Oh, that explains why you weren’t answering me all day. I’ve been calling your name into my mirror every chance I could get. But how are we supposed to coordinate our plans now?”

“I collected all the shards this morning,” Mariselle assured her. “They’re fairly large pieces, not too small. I’m planning to try a restoration spell. I would have attempted it already if not for the High Lady’s tea this afternoon.”

Petunia blinked. “The High Lady’s what?”

“Oh, goodness, I haven’t told you about that yet!” Mariselle exclaimed. “Nor about the engagement ball she’s hosting in our honor tomorrow night .”

“She’s— what ?” Petunia looked horrified.

“Turn right around, cousin dear,” Mariselle said, looping her arm through Petunia’s and directing her back inside the greenhouse. “This visit will have to last a little longer. You simply cannot leave until I’ve recounted every mortifying detail of this latest development.”