Page 33 of Deals & Dream Spells (The Charmed Leaf Legacy #2)

He continued to leaf through leather-bound volumes and portfolios, searching for more information about the underground lumyrite network.

But he found his attention repeatedly drawn to the two women on the floor.

Their quiet chatter and occasional bursts of laughter proved distractingly incongruous with his mental image of Brightcrests as humorless, rigid aristocrats.

Mariselle, in particular, seemed transformed, her usual cold poise replaced by genuine animation as she explained something that sounded oddly as though it involved cotton candy and flamingos, her hands moving expressively through the air.

This version of her—passionate, focused, almost radiant with enthusiasm—was entirely at odds with the calculating ice princess he’d known for years.

He found himself wanting to reach for a quill and one of his notebooks.

Writing was how he made sense of contradictions like this—the gap between appearance and reality, the way people presented themselves versus who they truly were.

It was his way of untangling complex emotions, of examining the subtle hypocrisies of society, and of capturing those rare, unguarded moments when someone’s mask slipped to reveal the person beneath.

Who was Mariselle Brightcrest if not the cold, cruel adversary he’s always believed her to be?

“I’m going to make some tea,” she announced suddenly, rising from the floor. She stretched, arching her back slightly, and Evryn hastily returned his gaze to his documents.

As she padded on bare feet past the table, she discreetly placed a folded note beside his arm. He waited until she had disappeared into the kitchen before unfolding it, revealing a hastily scrawled message: OF COURSE I didn’t tell P. I gave my word, after all. Does that mean nothing to you?

The indignation practically leaped from the page, and Evryn felt a twinge of guilt for his suspicion. Before he could examine the feeling further, Mariselle called from the kitchen, “Would you like tea, Rowanwood?”

“I’m not certain I trust anything in this cottage, even if it has been preserved for the last five decades,” he called back.

“I brought my own tea blends from Brightcrest Manor,” Mariselle replied.

“In that case, I certainly won’t be partaking,” he said, relieved to slip into their familiar pattern of antagonism. Who knew what dreadful concoctions Mariselle might brew.

“Your loss,” she called back, but the rest of her words faded as Evryn’s attention snapped to a particular page in the portfolio he’d been examining.

There, in the margin beside a detailed diagram of the underground lumyrite network, were small, meticulous notes he’d come to recognize as his great-uncle’s handwriting.

Lumyrite Echo Visualization , the heading read.

Below it, concise instructions described an enchantment that would cause existing lumyrite in the ground to glow, causing a complementary glowing pattern above ground, effectively revealing the entire hidden network.

Evryn could then compare this visible pattern to the original diagrams to determine what, if anything, had been damaged or lost.

He stood abruptly, rolling up both the plans that contained the drawing of the lumyrite network and the page he’d found the visualization spell on. He tucked both beneath his arm as he announced, “I’m going to check something outside.”

Petunia muttered something that sounded like, “Don’t hurry back,” and Mariselle didn’t respond at all.

He slipped outside into the cool night air.

The moon hung high overhead, bathing the ruins in silvery light as he strode toward them.

He took a different path this evening, turning before the large cluster of nightveil orchids and walking beneath what had once been the grand entrance arch.

Mariselle’s description of the original Dreamland came to mind as he walked, and he tried to picture what it had once looked like.

He stepped onto the circular platform and moved toward the center where they had discovered the dream core.

Reaching the circular depression, he knelt and unrolled the papers, spreading them flat on the stone surface.

According to the spell instructions, he needed to position himself at the center of the network—precisely where the dream core had been—and then channel magic downward while reciting the incantation.

He closed his eyes, drawing a deep breath as he gathered his magic.

This wasn’t his manifested power, but rather the inherent magic that pulsed through the veins of all fae.

The magic that made simple tasks like heating up a cooled cup of tea or tossing a cushion at someone else’s head fairly easy.

The familiar warmth began to build within him, that sensation like liquid sunlight flowing through his veins.

He extended his hand over the hole, palm down, and began to murmur the words from Thaelan’s notes.

Nothing happened at first. Then, gradually, a faint blue glow began to emanate from the earth beneath his palm.

The light intensified, spreading outward in thin, glowing lines that traced complex patterns across the ground.

The illumination continued to expand, revealing an intricate network that extended well beyond the pavilion area.

Evryn stood, watching in amazement as the entire lumyrite grid revealed itself.

The blue light pulsed gently, forming complex geometric patterns.

But from his current vantage point, he couldn’t see the entire network clearly enough to compare it with the diagram.

He needed a higher perspective. Good thing Cobalt was waiting nearby.

He stepped off the platform and picked his way across the ruins, passing moss-covered stones and more nightveil orchids, aiming for the trees where he’d left Cobalt. The trees he and Mariselle had raced through on the night of the Opening Ball, before all of this had begun.

“Where are you going?”

He stopped at the sound of Mariselle’s voice, calling from somewhere behind him.

Not accusatory but filled with genuine curiosity.

Evryn turned to find her standing at the edge of the ruins, her eyes wide with wonder as she stared at the ground.

“Is this …” She gestured toward the illuminated patterns. “The lumyrite network?”

“Yes. I found the visualization spell in Thaelan Rowanwood’s notes. I’m going to take Cobalt up for an aerial view to compare it with the original drawings.” He turned and continued toward the trees.

“Oh!” He heard Mariselle hurrying after him. “I want to see too.”

Of course she did.

Evryn reached his pegasus at the edge of the trees and began untethering the reins. “Is your mount nearby?” he asked, though he already knew the answer. She wasn’t wearing riding gear. However she had arrived here tonight, it wasn’t by pegasus.

“No, but yours is.” She came to a stop beside him.

He paused, turning to face her with narrowed eyes. “We are not riding a pegasus together.”

“Why ever not?” she asked, already moving past him toward Cobalt’s side. “It shall be but a momentary ascent. Surely your beast can manage two riders for such a brief excursion.”

“That isn’t the point,” Evryn protested, watching with growing alarm as she stroked Cobalt’s neck. The traitorous creature nickered softly, apparently delighted by her attention.

“And what is the point?” she asked.

His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. Was she being deliberately obtuse? The two of them would be pressed together on Cobalt’s back, her body flush against his. The very thought made his stomach turn.

Still, he chose a different tack when he spoke out loud. “You’re hardly dressed appropriately for?—”

“So?” she said, brushing him off. “No one is here to observe us or enforce proper etiquette.”

He sighed and spoke slowly, as if attempting to reason with a child. “How are you to sit astride a pegasus while wearing a gown ? ”

“It’s a simple matter,” she said, gathering her skirts. “I shall merely adjust my garments accordingly.” She began hitching her skirts higher, revealing her ankles and then, horrifyingly, the curves of her calves.

Evryn averted his gaze, staring fixedly at a particularly fascinating bit of stone on the ground. “This is highly inappropriate,” he muttered.

“Spare me your delicate sensibilities, Rowanwood,” she replied, already bracing herself against Cobalt’s side and beginning to hoist herself up. “I’m sure you’ve seen far more of a woman’s form than this.”

Now that was certainly not an appropriate topic for discussion. He refrained from commenting. Keeping his eyes down, he said, “I assume you don’t need assistance with?—”

“No, I do not need assistance. I am perfectly capable of mounting a pegasus. As you well know.”

Yes, but not in a gown , he almost said out loud, then thought better of it.

He looked up once he was certain she’d mounted and caught a glimpse of bare skin far above her knee before he hastily looked away again, feeling his face grow warm.

At least she’d been sensible enough to put her shoes back on before following him out here, though that did precious little to mitigate the impropriety of the situation.

With a resigned sigh, he mounted behind her, trying desperately to maintain some degree of space between them.

The effort proved utterly futile. The moment he settled into position, they were pressed together from shoulder to knee, her back flush against his chest. He held himself rigid, arms extended awkwardly to grasp the reins on either side of her without actually touching her, like someone politely attempting not to hug a tree.

“What is wrong with you?” Mariselle asked with no small amount of impatience, leaning forward slightly and looking over her shoulder at him. “Have you forgotten how to ride?

“I assure you,” he replied stiffly, “That is not the prob?—”

His words cut off as Cobalt shifted beneath them, spreading his wings in preparation for takeoff.

Evryn tensed immediately, arms tightening around Mariselle instinctively while his legs locked against hers to stay balanced.

The contact sent an unexpected jolt through him, and he nearly pulled back again, but Cobalt chose that precise moment to launch skyward with a powerful downbeat of his wings.

The sudden acceleration forced Mariselle further back against his chest. She said nothing, and he suspected—given her excitement about the glowing lumyrite network—that she hadn’t even noticed. He, however, was suddenly finding the night air inexplicably warm and his cravat oddly constricting.

“Oh, isn’t it beautiful!” she exclaimed, pointing downward.

Evryn focused on steering, keeping Cobalt just above the treetops, gliding in a wide, even circle over the ruins. “The diagram,” he said, his voice sounding oddly strained to his own ears. “We need to compare it to what we’re seeing.”

“Yes, of course. Let me see it.”

Of course she would insist on taking charge. Evryn fumbled with one hand to extract the rolled papers from inside his jacket, an awkward maneuver given their current position. He passed them to her.

“Hold onto me, would you?” she said. “I need two hands for this.”

As though she’d asked him to pass the sugar, not compromise the last shreds of his dignity.

He groaned inwardly, slipping one arm around her waist and anchoring her against him.

Her warmth seeped through every layer of clothing.

Her scent—vanilla?—tickled his nose. It was the most irritating thing in the world how perfectly she fit against him.

Cobalt continued gliding as Mariselle unrolled the diagram, holding it before them.

Evryn leaned forward to see, his chin almost touching her shoulder.

If she noticed this increased proximity, she gave no indication, her attention wholly focused on comparing the parchment to the glowing network below.

“It matches!” she exclaimed suddenly, a squeal of genuine excitement escaping her. “Do you see? The patterns are identical. Not a single break!”

Evryn felt a thrill race through him at her words.

“That’s … good news,” he managed, finding it difficult to form simple sentences while so acutely aware of every point of contact between them—shoulders, back, waist, legs.

This was an affront to the natural order of things.

No Rowanwood should be touching this much of a Brightcrest. Laws of propriety, physics, and common sense were being defied.

“Good news?” Mariselle twisted to look at him, her face mere inches from his, eyes bright with triumph.

“It’s extraordinary! This means you don’t need to touch anything below ground.

You can focus on repairing anything that’s broken in the pavilion structure and reshaping or replacing lumyrite where necessary.

That shouldn’t take you too long, should it? ”

Evryn found himself staring at her lips as she spoke, the way they curved with genuine enthusiasm, utterly different from her usual cold smirk.

Yes, this was indeed a bizarre alternate reality.

This much had been clear from the moment he’d walked into the cottage and found Mariselle and Petunia sitting on the floor.

“Rowanwood?” she prompted, and he realized he hadn’t answered her.

“Uh, yes. I mean no. It shouldn’t take too long.”

“Excellent. Well, we should return to the cottage.” She faced forward once more, to Evryn’s great relief. “Petunia will be wondering what’s become of us.”

She rolled up the diagram and settled back slightly, shifting her position between his thighs, and?—

No. For stars’ sake, no. This ride needed to end. Now.