Page 44 of Deals & Dream Spells (The Charmed Leaf Legacy #2)

Chapter Nineteen

The Bridgemere House grand salon hummed with conversation and the occasional burst of laughter, all illuminated by the soft glow of crystal orbs hovering near the ornately carved ceiling.

Mariselle stood near a refreshment table, absently adjusting her sheer lace gloves and enjoying the distance from her family, who had occupied themselves elsewhere in the room.

The evening’s musicale had drawn quite the assembly of Bloomhaven’s elite, all eager to witness the newly renovated music room and the magical instruments the Bridgemeres had commissioned at considerable expense.

Her thoughts, however, remained firmly anchored in the impossible landscape she had crafted the night before.

The memory of Dreamland—of standing within her own creation as it flourished around her—still sent shivers of delight cascading through her whenever she recalled it.

Even now, as she nodded politely to Lady Fawnwood’s elaborate description of her daughter’s latest magical accomplishment, Mariselle’s mind kept drifting back to cotton candy skies and stained-glass butterflies.

“Ah, there she is—my glitter-dusted bonbon!” a familiar voice called, interrupting her reverie.

Mariselle turned to find Evryn approaching, his sister Aurelise at his side. An unexpected flutter stirred in her chest at the sight of him—so different now from how she’d left him in the early hours of this morning, slumped in peaceful oblivion on the sofa at Windsong Cottage.

She’d exhausted her remaining magic transporting his sleeping form out of Dreamland and across the ruins, and perhaps had lingered a moment longer than propriety allowed, studying him in unguarded repose.

Without his perpetual mask of rakish nonchalance, his features had softened, lips parted, dark lashes resting against his cheeks as his eyes moved in dreams. This was not the Evryn Rowanwood she thought she’d always known.

She’d been struck by the same realization when stealing glances at him earlier that night at the window seat, quill moving across parchment with focused intensity. There was a depth to Evryn Rowanwood that he deliberately concealed from the world.

She had wondered then, standing there while he slept, what dreams occupied his sleeping mind. If she’d listened closely, she would have heard the whispers.

But she’d left before that could happen.

And now here he was, theatrical facade firmly back in place, all practiced charm and exaggerated gallantry.

Glitter-dusted bonbon indeed. His latest ridiculous pet name was no doubt a reference to the gown she’d chosen this evening—a glittering creation of twilight amethyst silk and subtle pink detailing that caught the light with every movement—though she preferred to think of it as a reference to the colors of her fantastical Dreamland outfit rather than a sugary confection.

“My beloved velvet-voiced vexation,” she greeted, extending her hand to him.

Evryn blinked once. Then—slowly, deliberately—arched a single brow, the corner of his mouth curling in what could only be described as a dangerous smile.

“Oh,” he said softly as he captured her fingers and bowed low over her hand.

“We’re playing along now, are we?” He brushed a kiss over her hand, where the glimmering soulbond mark was faintly visible through the sheer fabric of her glove.

“Of course,” she said sweetly. “It’s only fair I begin addressing you with the reverence you so clearly believe you deserve, my well-dressed pest.”

An unguarded snort of laughter escaped Evryn as he straightened, his eyes darting to hers and his fingers tightening briefly around her hand. But he composed himself quickly, smoothing his expression into one of polished charm.

“In that case, I should inform you that you look particularly enchanting tonight, my ravishing orchestrator of chaos and corsetry.”

Mariselle pressed her lips together but failed to hide her amusement at the increasingly ridiculous endearments. “I’m writing that last one down.”

“I’ll inscribe it on your calling card, if you like.”

A giggle tugged Mariselle’s attention sideways, and she was reminded of Aurelise’s presence. The younger girl watched Mariselle and Evryn’s exchange with puzzled interest, as though she couldn’t fathom this particular type of affection.

“Miss Aurelise,” Mariselle said warmly, turning toward her. “How lovely to see you this evening.”

Aurelise dipped into a graceful curtsy, though her fingers nervously twisted the fabric of her gown. “Good evening, Lady Mariselle.”

“I understand you’ll be performing tonight?” Mariselle said.

Aurelise’s eyes widened in what looked suspiciously like panic.

“Yes. The Bridgemeres extended the invitation, and Mother insisted. She believes my abilities are sufficient for such an occasion, and I’m truly honored to have been asked.

Though I confess, I’m rather anxious about the performance.

I can’t help but worry about disappointing such distinguished company and embarrassing my family. ”

“You’ll be magnificent,” Mariselle assured her, reaching for Aurelise’s hand and giving it a small squeeze. “Your family has nothing but praise for your abilities.”

“And you needn’t worry about impressing everyone,” Evryn told her, his tone gentler than Mariselle typically heard him use with anyone else. “Simply play as you do at home, when you believe no one is listening.”

Mariselle observed this softer version of Evryn with quiet fascination, remembering the comments his mother had made during tea at Rowanwood House.

My most sensitive child. Remarkably attentive to his siblings’ needs.

Evryn had clearly found the comments exceedingly embarrassing, but Mariselle was beginning to see the truth of them now. The discovery was both unsettling and strangely satisfying—like finding an unexpected piece that completed a puzzle she hadn’t realized was unfinished .

“Thank you, brother,” Aurelise murmured, giving Evryn a grateful smile.

From across the room, Mariselle spotted Rosavyn engaged in animated conversation with Kazrian and their mother.

“I should rejoin them,” Aurelise said, noticing Mariselle’s gaze.

“She only permitted Kazrian and me to attend because she promised Lady Bridgemere we would both be on our absolute best behavior.”

“And because she’s convinced your magical manifestation could occur any day now and that it will be something music-related,” Evryn added.

“She believes exposure to accomplished musicians can only nurture your latent abilities.” His voice softened further, meant for his sister’s ears alone.

“Though I did remind her that constantly watching for signs puts unnecessary pressure on you. Your magic will reveal itself when it’s ready, not when it’s convenient for Mother’s social calendar. ”

Aurelise flushed slightly. “It’s nothing so exciting as all that. I have no notion of what sort of magic I might manifest. I simply enjoy playing, that’s all.”

“Of course,” Mariselle agreed smoothly, recognizing the girl’s discomfort. “Though from what I’ve been told, your talent speaks for itself, magical or otherwise.”

After Aurelise departed to rejoin her family, Evryn offered Mariselle his arm.

“Shall we mingle, my honey-glazed orchid? Or would you prefer to scandalize society by sharing a private waltz on the terrace where anyone might glimpse us beneath the moonlight, quite unaccompanied and therefore deliciously improper?”

“That does sound like delightful fun.” Mariselle accepted his arm, aware of several pairs of eyes tracking their movement.

As they made their way through the crowded salon, Mariselle caught fragments of conversation. Gossip about an ill-considered match, speculation about who might be invited to Lady Rivenna’s Annual Tea Leaf Reading, and of course, whispers about Mariselle’s still-shocking blue hair.

“—unintentional, so I’ve heard?—”

“—something to do with the overzealous affections of her betrothed?”

“—quite becoming, in its way, though one wonders what her mother?—”

“Have you recovered yet from your first trip into Dreamland?” she asked in a low tone, turning her attention away from the gossip .

“Dreamland, perhaps. Seeing you in that theatrically scandalous outfit—now that I may never recover from.”

A burst of laughter surprised her, even as she felt her face flush.

It had seemed entirely natural, once she was inside Dreamland, to transform her ordinary garments into the spectacularly flamboyant carnival-like attire she’d only ever imagined.

But out here, in the waking realm, she was mildly horrified to discover she’d been so swept up in the moment that she’d revealed that part to Evryn.

“It was magnificent,” he said, his voice pitched low, genuine. “All of it. Every single moment.”

She stopped and looked up at him. “Do you?—”

“Lady Mariselle!” a shrill voice called out, startling her.

She looked around and found Lady Locklear approaching, her daughter Cordelina trailing behind.

“I simply must hear about your experience at the Blackbriar garden party last week. I heard the most fascinating gossip regarding their son’s abrupt and unexpected return to Bloomhaven that very morning. ”

“I’m afraid I observed nothing particularly noteworthy,” Mariselle replied smoothly.

This was not entirely true. Lord Hadrian Blackbriar had indeed made quite the entrance, but Mariselle had been too absorbed in memorizing a particular enchantment for Dreamland’s dream core to pay much attention.

Besides, she had no intention of feeding Bloomhaven’s insatiable appetite for gossip, especially when she herself had become one of its favorite courses.

“Really?” Lady Locklear’s expression fell. “How disappointing.”