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I followed the swirl of silk as it slithered up into the trees, nestling into a neat curve between two branches. Beatrice magicked up another sheet of fabric, and then another, alternating a series of artfully drooping black-and-ivory drapery all around the wedding venue.

The Palace of Briars. I still couldn’t believe our luck. I sat there dumbfounded as my friends moved in a meditative dance, conjuring their magics to decorate the incredibly generous space that Oberon had granted us.

The abode of the King of the Summer Court. His gardens. Our wedding venue! How my heart didn’t stop when he first told us we could get married here, I would never know.

My mouth hung half open as candles drifted through the air, each held aloft by Sedgewick’s magic, each slotting perfectly into its home among the many wrought-iron candelabras personally forged by the great Master Vikhyat.

With every wave of Kaoru’s hand came a spray of elegant stationery, little black envelopes for monetary gifts finding their way to the registration table, flawlessly engraved place cards floating into position in the dining area.

And all the while my butt stayed right in my chair, my jaw growing tired from being dropped, a kid at a magic show. Xander strolled by and waved his hand in my face.

“Hello? Jackson Pryde, world’s best fiancé? Anybody home? Don’t leave your mouth hanging open like that. Your brain could float out any minute.”

I blinked, my teeth clicking as I snapped my mouth shut. “So rude. If you didn’t mention the best fiancé bit, I’d even consider being deeply offended.”

He picked something out of my hair, plucking my locks like he was playing a musical instrument. My heart strings, perhaps. I batted playfully at his hand. He dodged my fingers, then lowered his hand to show me the strange little leaf that had found its way into my hair. Five leaves radiated from its center, like a star.

“Make a wish,” he said.

I frowned, because I loved giving Xander shit sometimes, and because he loved it a lot, too.

“That’s not a dandelion and you know it. I can’t wish on that.”

Xander rolled his eyes. “Come on, you grump. It’s like wishing on a star, or a lucky clover with an extra leaf. That makes it super lucky, or something.”

I blew it out of his fingers before he could react. I didn’t need to think about my wish at all. Xander sputtered and laughed, entranced as the little leaf spun across the lawn.

“So what did you wish for?” he asked, wrapping his arms around me.

“I can’t tell you. That would ruin the wish. Or something. Probably.”

Xander protested, but I grabbed his hand in both of mine and kissed the back of it. He was so warm. He smelled so nice. This had to be a dream, the comfort of him, the balmy breeze in this garden, the perfect glow of the sun. A wedding in the Verdance, a party for me and all my friends and my future husband. My husband, Xander Wright!

Every waking moment since we’d entered the Summer Court had felt like swimming in honey. Honey, or maybe the sweetest tree sap. To be locked in amber, to freeze this moment forever? I couldn’t imagine a happier time in my short life.

Fatima was the first of our friends from the Verdance, before we even knew she was fae. Masquerading as a cloth merchant in the Black Market, she’d told us that the sensual pleasures were all heightened in the Verdance. “Sugar was sweeter,” she said.

And while Xander and I had shared desserts and dishes and even our bodies in the Verdance, it was this glorious afternoon, of all things, that led me to truly understand what Fatima meant.

I pressed a kiss against the dip between Xander’s knuckles, held the metal of his enchanted engagement ring to my lips until they tingled with magic. This was the perfect place to fall truly, madly in love.

“The two of you are disgusting,” Beatrice said, her thrilled little smirk betraying what she really thought of us. “Don’t mind the rest of us, we’re just working our beautiful butts off while you gross the rest of us out with your public display of affection.”

“Don’t tempt me, Rex,” I growled. “We could be openly making out instead. Or worse. Far worse.”

“Please!” Niko cried. “I just had lunch. I don’t want to lose it all over the lawn.”

And what a lunch it was, too, prepared and served by King Oberon’s delightful subjects. The people of the Summer Court clearly loved their king, and they channeled their happiness at his long-awaited return into preparing a sumptuous feast for their humble human guests.

I’d never seen so many different varieties of cakes and sweetmeats, and all decorated with swirls of icing and sheets of sugar lace that defied logic and gravity. The fruits and vegetables of the Verdance seemed at once so alien and yet so familiar.

The king’s kitchens had also, quite touchingly, attempted to recreate popular human dishes, with mixed results. I only bit into the bright green hamburger to be polite, but it turned out delicious anyway.

The best part was seeing that Xander had continued to retain his healthy appetite. I knew that seeing him so hungry and so eager to dig in upon waking up was a good sign of his recovery.

The healers had been right in the end, that there was no permanent damage to his body and soul, that he only needed some time to gain back his strength. I never would’ve forgiven myself if the arcane engine had actually hurt him.

My opinion of what had actually happened ping-ponged so much between everyone else’s assessments. I thought that talking to my friends about the accident would have helped clear things up, but sometimes outside opinions only led to more conflict in my brain, especially hearing from people I respected like Gertrude Goodness, or Hecate, or hell, Reza Arshad.

Something he could never know about me, of course. It would go straight to his head.

In the end I’d gone with what Hecate had said. “To err is human,” right? It stung to accept it, but putting Mom and Dad on a pedestal had clouded my judgment of their capabilities.

It was very cool of Gertrude to try and convince me that my parents were awesome and infallible, but that was hardly the realistic view. Octavian and Luciana made a mistake, and so did I. End of story.

Again I made a mental note to send Giuseppe the nicest apology basket money could buy. Well, whatever we could afford after spending on this wedding. But what excuse would I have for not splurging on Giuseppe? We were saving a ton having our friends pitch in on the supplies and decorations.

Earlier in the day, Lore had lovingly wheeled in his monstrosity of a wedding cake. When I say “wheeled in,” of course, what I meant to say was that he politely threatened me, Preston, and the others as we rolled the cake in through the Verdance portal. It was hard not to be at the peak of physical efficiency when we had the threat of laser beams looming over our heads.

Even worse, now Lore had Whitby with him as well, the two of them zipping among us like a pair of anxious hummingbirds. Whitby would pick up how to fire lasers from Lore in no time. On the plus side, Xander and I would end up with the sickest security system in all the Black Market.

Lore had actually panicked about where to store the cake as soon as we arrived at the Palace of Briars, but Oberon’s people were right on top of things. His kitchen staff had set out a ring of flowers, which looked very pretty indeed. One of the cooks explained their purpose.

The orange flowers radiated heat, while the blue ones radiated cold. Arranged in just the right combination, the impromptu floral arrangement would keep Lore’s creation in perfect condition for a long time indeed, or at least until we needed to actually cut the cake.

Which wasn’t a long time away, mind. Only one day until we were set to get married. I finally stood up, grabbed Xander by the waist, and pulled him in tight.

“Can you believe this? We’re getting married tomorrow. Just one more night and we won’t be bachelors anymore.”

Niko groaned. Beatrice shrieked. Preston slapped himself in the forehead. I frowned at them all.

“Wow, you guys. I know the running joke is that we gross you out, but I didn’t think the idea of us getting married was actually so repulsive to each and every one of you.”

“It’s not that,” Preston said. “We forgot about the bachelor party, Jack. Everyone was so busy with the wedding preparations that we just plain forgot.”

“The bachelor parties ,” Beatrice corrected, her eyes huge, her fingers crooked like she was looking for someone to throttle. “Plural. Oh my gods, Xander, I was supposed to be your best man, and look at us now.”

Xander chuckled. “You guys, it’s no big deal. I forgot myself. What does it matter? We’re all going to have fun together at the wedding anyway.”

I shrugged. “And besides, we all have the same friends. Wouldn’t it be kind of weird for all of you to basically throw the same party twice?”

“But it’s tradition. I think?” Niko looked more confused than downtrodden, scratching the bridge of his nose with one fingernail. “I mean, it sounds kind of fun anyway, all the drinks and the stupid games. Also the strippers. Oh, we need strippers. I volunteer Reza.”

Anyone else would have cowered under the intensity of Reza’s glare. Niko just stared back expectantly, as if actually waiting for Reza to take it all off.

“Where’s the Black Market connected to at the moment?” Preston counted off on his fingers, trying to work out the Black Market portal’s comings and goings. “And what time is it there? I’m sure we can find at least one agency willing to send over a half-dozen half-dressed go-go boys.”

“Guys,” I grumbled.

“Black Market my ass,” Beatrice moaned. “All the best enchanted wares in the universe, but where’s a guild of magical strippers when you need one?”

I kneaded my forehead with my knuckles. “Guys. I’m serious. Xander and I don’t care. Don’t worry about it.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Sedgewick said. “It’s late anyhow. And besides, we’re guests here. Our host was kind enough to offer us this space as a venue, not to mention give all of us rooms to stay for the weekend. And this is a royal palace. I support anyone who wants to strip to his skivvies to make a buck, but I’m sure King Oberon won’t take kindly to — ”

“What exactly is it that I won’t take kindly to?”

Silence fell over the garden as we watched the King of the Summer Court stroll out of his palace. A bemused Sparrowheart followed behind him, looking gradually more confused as she looked at each of our faces. How the hell did you begin to explain the concept of strippers and bachelor parties to a fae monarch?

The redness of Sedgewick’s cheeks grew to match his hair. “Well, Your Highness, I — gosh. Could I just explain it to Sparrowheart, please? And then maybe she could tell you in her own words?”

Oberon frowned, but acquiesced with a wave of his hand. Sparrowheart leaned closer to a red-faced Sedgewick, letting him whisper in her ear. Soon they both had matching red faces. Oberon frowned harder.

“Well, what is it, Summer Knight? What human ritual is so embarrassing that it may only be spoken of in whispers?”

Sparrowheart cleared her throat. “With all due respect, King Oberon, I believe that our friend Sedgewick was mostly embarrassed to speak these words in your royal presence specifically. And now that burden falls upon me instead.”

She shot Sedgewick an accusatory look. He bowed his head in apology, and maybe a little shame. Preston snickered, then clapped him on the back for support. Sparrowheart bent closer to Oberon to explain. King Oberon’s forehead creased in concentration. The gardens stilled. You could hear a pin drop.

King Oberon’s laughter boomed across the gardens. They could probably hear him in the kitchens, all across the Summer Court.

“Bare-chested dancers? Is that all? I never took you humans for prudes. Why, I’ve attended far bawdier festivals in my youth. A crush of glistening bodies of all shapes and colors and sizes. Breasts and balls and all the other dangling bits swinging to and fro.”

“Your Highness!” Sparrowheart protested, redder in the face than ever.

“Sparrowheart. Send for the dancers.”

“But Your Highness, I — ”

“Fine! Then I’ll send for them myself. No human shall have to suffer without a pre-matrimonial celebration of the senses in the Palace of Briars, of all places. A bachelor’s ball it is, then. Summon the court dancers!”

Oberon clapped his hands, bright pink butterflies scattering from his fingertips and straight into the palace. He clapped again, this time conjuring a burst of golden butterflies that flew for the kitchens.

“Bring out our finest wines, our sweetest meads!”

I watched the flurry in a daze, sensing an explosion of energy from within the Palace of Briars as the household staff went full throttle. Oberon swaggered over and slapped me hard on the back. I tried not to choke.

“We’ll save the very best bottles for your wedding, don’t you worry. Ah, here come the dancers now!”

As promised, dancers equipped to tantalize every taste and proclivity burst out of the doors of the palace, too little of their bodies covered in swirling veils and jangling jewelry, their plentifully exposed skin gleaming with fragrant oil.

The air filled with the music of lutes and flutes, the banging of invisible drums, the clanging of bells and little cymbals. King Oberon clapped along, enjoying the spectacle more than anyone.

Even more dancers streamed out of the Palace of Briars, some taking position around the gardens to perform in their respective corners, others strutting boldly up to the king’s guests.

Niko stood on a chair and howled with both hands cupped around his mouth. Reza stayed on the grass, arms crossed and shaking his head in mildly jealous disapproval. Master Vikhyat hid his blush in his beard as a young fae woman attempted to lure him into a friendly dance.

A lithe, muscular specimen made his way over to Beatrice, who immediately abandoned her decorating duties in favor of fist-pumping and hooting. A more reserved, but no less attractive member of Oberon’s retinue approached the Summer Knight, performing in a manner that somehow came off as both extremely sensual and oddly respectful. Sparrowheart, blushing bright as a tomato, clapped politely.

Just then, Gertrude Goodness stepped into the gardens followed by a small army of floating gift boxes. She craned her neck as she searched the grounds, then waved widely when she made eye contact.

“Jackson, Xander? I’ve brought the souvenir cakes for the guests. Where shall I — oh, goodness gracious.”

A pair of court dancers had taken a moment to wiggle their butts for the newest arrival, presenting their voluptuous peaches in a tandem welcome twerk. Gertrude blushed.

I nudged Xander with my elbow. “Looks like we have plenty enough cake at the palace already.”

Xander laughed. “A whole bakery.”

Gertrude whooped in surprise and delight as King Oberon swept her up into a dance. She flung her hand across the gardens, sending the gift boxes floating safely to an empty table before they could be squashed or molested by any wayward butts.

Servers from the kitchen staff followed the dancers into the garden, each clutching a tray with little appetizers or flutes of effervescent liquids in a rainbow of spectacular colors. I shook my head, grinning broadly. We were never going to get the decorating done at this rate.

Xander laughed as he snatched a drink from a passing tray. “Not exactly what I had in mind — not that I even remembered our bachelor parties — but this is amazing!”

I pulled Xander in for a one-armed hug and pressed a kiss against his cheek. “Yep. It’s just perfect. Couldn’t be more perfect.”

“All of our friends here, a more beautiful venue than I could have possibly imagined, and a wish that you made on a genuine, magical pointed five-leaf clover that I totally didn’t just make up in the moment.”

My lips pressed together in a pout. Rascal. I knew where this was going.

Xander nipped at my ear. We were so lucky that Beatrice was too busy hooting at her fae stripper to notice. Hey, maybe the clover thing worked after all.

“I’m not gonna stop asking,” Xander whispered. “And if you don’t answer, King Oberon’s court dancers will suddenly find a new recruit among them.”

I didn’t fall for the bait — not just yet — because stretching it out just long enough to annoy Xander was always such a fun option.

“What did I wish for? It’s so ironic, isn’t it, as someone who makes things with his bare hands — a creator, if you will — to be so incapable of making any truly creative wishes. I mean, what man is prepared to make something so difficult in the moment?”

Xander rolled his eyes and pulled away. “I’m already sorry I asked.”

And I hadn’t even dropped any indeeds or verilies yet. But I was in a good mood and didn’t mind letting Xander off the hook. I grabbed his hand, pulled him close, and wedged his waist into the crook of my arm.

“A long and happy life for you and me. Together. That’s what I wished for.”

When Xander smiled, I thought I could see the faintest sparkle of a tear forming in the corner of his eye. “Jackson, that’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”

I waggled my eyebrows. “Wait until we get to the honeymoon.”

Xander burst out laughing and thumped me on the chest. We pressed our torsos together as he leaned in for a kiss. With the music of the Verdance around us, in a gathering of our closest friends, it didn’t much feel like we needed magic anymore. All of my wishes had already come true.