Page 29

Chapter

Twenty-Four

I n the interest of keeping the peace, we take a stack of books back to the knights’ chambers to give the librarian some time to digest the fact that Gwyneth and I claimed ownership of a super-secret entity that was only rumored to exist. No one in living memory has witnessed it until now.

Once the key librarian recovers from his existential crisis, we can see if the All Knowing has a position for him. It seems like he could use some company other than musty flying books. His people skills needed work. That’s what happens when you only have yourself to talk to.

Theo has indeed given up his room for Gwyneth, and they couldn’t have given me a more powerful gift if they tried. Protecting those I love is priceless.

Nash glowers at the book he’s reading while massaging my feet in his lap.

I’m pretending to read a book on ancient legends and the origins of the realm, but really, I am trying not to groan as he presses his thumb into the arch of my foot.

Hamish clucks contentedly on my lap, nudging Eugene, who pecks her in warning.

My broom swats them on their tiny heads, which stops their squabbling.

Malachi snorts from above me. I glance up at him from my position on his lap, noticing he’s as interested in research as I am.

Nash hits a delicious part of my foot. My eyes flutter closed, and a groan leaves my lips.

“Daphne,” Malachi scolds around a laugh. “You cannot make these noises.”

“I have proven otherwise.”

The genie pokes his head through the back of the sofa to stare at me. Why is he hiding back there? “He means there will be consequences if you continue to make sounds like they are giving you an org?—”

Gwyneth slams her book closed. “For the love of Idols, do not finish that sentence.”

I scowl at her. “The Idols do not deserve your love.”

The mirror man shimmers in his original mirror, which the knights moved to their living area. “I have news, fair Desmond.”

“Is it me, or is he getting worse?” Gwyneth asks.

“Apologies, Miss Grayson. I consider you to be the second fairest in the land. Your beauty is only surpassed by your blood-bound sister.”

“I’m fine being the runner-up,” she grumbles. “But try to remember I am Gwyneth.”

He squints at the room. “That is what I said. Are you quite well? You seem to have memory issues.”

Hart shakes his head, but his lips twitch. “You said you had news?” he reminds my mirror man.

The mirror man nods and then sneezes. “Apologies. I have sexual diseases.”

How do mirror people do it? Do they even have bodies? And what disease causes them to sneeze?

“That’s unfortunate,” Gwyneth says slowly, like she is trying to make sense of him.

My broom darts forward and promptly starts trying to clean the snot from the inside of the mirror. The mirror man’s eyes track the enchanted broom, around and around.

“What a helpful creature,” he finally says, before sneezing again.

“Oh,” Nash drawls. “He means he’s got perpetual sneezes.”

“That makes far more sense,” Theo says.

I snap my fingers. “Broom, leave my mirror man alone. You cannot clean the inside of the mirror.”

It zooms to my side and brushes against my hand like an eager puppy.

“That thing is not sane,” Gwyneth comments.

“At least my gift does something independently. You got a quill in a fancy box. Mine helps me. Yours gives you more work to do.”

“Frank would like to relay his displeasure at your escape,” the mirror man interjects.

“Frank can kiss my butt. But this is hardly news.”

“Poseidon has commandeered your sword from your abode. His mental state is deteriorating the longer he is parted from the trident. The sword is slowing his descent, but only being reunited will halt it.”

A demented Idol isn’t good news for anyone. “I’m willing to trade,” I tell him. “But I am not returning to the ocean. He will need to come to land to retrieve it.”

“Daphne, what are you doing?” Nash snaps. “Do not invite an Idol to the realm.”

“But he is of the ocean. He cannot leave,” the mirror man adds.

At some point, everyone needs to trust me a little. Research by the biggest brains in the realm is not getting us the answers we need. My gut says this is the way forward. “He’s an Idol. I’m sure he will figure it out.”

A loud rapping at the door makes my broom freeze. My capons hop off my stomach, and everyone else stares at the door.

“He can’t have figured it out that quick, right?” I mutter. I’m not dressed for a showdown with an Idol. I glance at the trident lying on a table by the window. It doesn’t seem extra shiny or excited that its owner is here.

More hammering on the door. “Are you going to answer that?” I ask.

Gwyneth shrugs. “Not my chambers.”

“And everyone we care about is in here,” Hart says, going back to his book.

The genie floats close to the door. “Should I?”

I flick my hand. “Please. While everyone else is apparently engrossed in books, I am bored, and now my mind won’t settle because I need to know who is banging down the door of my knights.” Wait. I glance around. “You guys don’t have girlfriends, right?”

“Only one,” Theo mutters as he turns a page.

“Who is she?” My blood boils as I jump to my feet and pace back and forth, eyes narrowed at Theo.

“Because I can’t share. I won’t share. I get that this is hypocritical, given that you aren’t making me pick between you, but that’s because you all stole a piece of my heart.

Is she prettier than me? Wait, don’t answer that.

She is most likely smarter than me, but I doubt she will bring adventure into your life.

Does she know you are a dragon?” I pause and stare at a smiling Theo.

“She is you,” he says.

“She is me who?”

He rises to his feet, cups my face between his huge hands, and holds me hostage with those emerald eyes.

“You are the girlfriend in question. There is no one else, Daphne. Enough of this self doubt, this constant questioning if you are good enough. Don’t you see?

It is us that are not worthy of you, and while you might have given your heart to us, you gained four in return. ”

“Four?” That seems like a lot of pressure. I struggle to keep myself safe.

He drops a soft kiss on my lips, breaking away when whomever it is bangs on the door once more.

The genie pokes his head in and jerks back in with a grimace. “It’s Charming.”

Gwyneth releases a low groan, one that implies she has no more patience left for him. Goodie. I love this version of my sister, but only when she’s not directing that crazy at me.

“Want us to get rid of him?” Malachi asks with a little too much enthusiasm. I’m pretty sure his version of getting rid of him doesn’t include sending him away with a smacked butt and a bruised ego. I approve, but I think my sister is better off handling him herself.

She drops the book she was reading on the table and marches to the door before flinging it open. I sidestep Theo, not wanting to miss a single word or facial expression.

“Charming,” she snaps. “Come to shove an ill-fitting shoe on my foot or spin me tales about how I am your one true love? Or maybe you are here to get rid of my sister? No, that’s not it. Perhaps you are hiding perilous foodstuffs so you can pretend to be my hero again?”

He glances at the audience behind her back before focusing on Gwyneth.

“Why are you staying here?” he asks. “I went to your chambers, but the mirror informed me you’d moved all your belongings to a Stirling bedchamber.”

“Why?” my sister snaps. “How about because it’s the only place I feel safe at night?”

Charming’s face crumples. “You cannot deny the will of the Idols, Gwyneth.”

“No? Watch me.”

She slams the door in his face and spins to face us, her fists clenched at her sides. The hammering starts again, and a growl tears from her throat. She opens the door, grabs Charming’s throat, and walks him backward until his back slams against the wall.

“You are mine,” he snarls. “I already put our wedding banns out to the Hallows. You are honor-bound now.”

“Honor only extends to those with a good heart and conscience. You possess neither.”

“My father demands you be presented to solidify my claim on the throne,” he points out like Gwyneth would care.

“I don’t care,” she confirms.

“You will when our guards come to steal you. You can’t hide out in their chambers forever.”

I mean, she could, but my sister won’t. She might be sensible, but she’s also curious.

“Tell your father you made a mistake,” she demands. “Pick another maiden.”

His gaze slides to mine. That’s not happening, Prince Poopfloof. “Not her,” Hart growls, standing at my back. I fold my arms and cock a brow.

“Six dates, six diurnals, starting now,” Charming says to my sister. “Six individual dates for me to prove to you I am the right man for you.”

“It takes none for me to know with certainty that you and I are not happening,” Gwyneth says.

“I will never stop pursuing you. I will stalk you through these castle walls. My father’s guards will be at my command to bring my chosen Cinderella to heel.” Yikes, he’s really not helping himself. “Unless you give me six dates.”

“And then you will leave me alone?” she asks.

Wait, what?

“I promise.”

“His promises aren’t worth shit,” I remind her.

“I want it in a contract,” she says.

He scowls at me. “Fine. I’ll have one drawn up.”

“No, the genie will write it. He’ll include clauses that make the contract null and void if you try to engineer any magic, love potions, wishes, kidnapping, murders, sister threatening, and narrative manipulation.”

“Fine,” he grumbles.

Genie rubs his hands together, and a long roll of parchment rolls onto the floor, the words whispering along the paper and sinking into existence.

“Any clause on the type of date?” Genie asks.

“Can’t last over two turns, must be in the Hallows, and my sister or another of my choosing will chaperone every tempo.”

Charming rolls his eyes. Clearly, we are cutting down his plan piece by piece. Good. Six dates. We can manage that.

The genie nods as he finishes putting the final touches on the contract.

Gwyneth releases Charming’s neck and retreats into the living chambers, brushing past me.

She flips open the lid of the wooden box and retrieves the quill.

She signs her name with a flourish, then marches out and offers the same quill to Charming.

He licks his lips and snatches it from her before adding his name.

The genie rolls it up and floats it back to the table.

“Now, for our first date,” Charming says with a grin. “I would be honoured if you would escort me to the circus.”

I perk up. I have heard of the fabled circus, but never witnessed it. It appears every annus for three diurnals only and is a spectacle like no other. As far as dates go, this wasn’t a terrible choice.

“Not this diurnal,” Gwyneth says. “I have a to-do list as long as my arm, and you aren’t on it.”

“Six dates, six diurnals, starting now,” the genie reminds her.

Gwyneth pinches the bridge of her nose and groans.

“It’s fine,” Nash says, looking at me. “Hart and Malachi will accompany you and Gwyneth. Perhaps a little distance from the problem will help us approach these with fresh eyes.”

“Do they sell eyes at the circus?” How horrid.

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

“Then it’s decided,” Charming says. “I shall meet you in the great hall in half a turn.”

He skips off down the corridor like he’s just got access to the promised floof. He didn’t. If anything, he’ll be lucky to survive six dates with me chaperoning—but that’s on him.

Gwyneth closes the door and leans her back against it before hanging her head. “Tell me there’s no clause about me using magic, potions, and potential death on him,” she says to the genie.

A particularly villainish grin spreads across Genie’s face. “Nope. Prince Poopfloof should have read the small print.”

This is why I love my gang of crazy creatures. “What does one wear to visit the circus?” I ask.

Malachi’s slow grin makes my heart pitter-patter wildly. “I have just the thing.”

He does? Why? He grabs my hand and tugs me toward his chambers. I should know by now that nothing good follows that particular Stirling smile.