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Watching her carefully, he pressed on. “Look, I’m telling you this now because I know I can trust you with this, but when I first met you, I knew nothing of you. Most people in this godforsaken kingdom view any talk of faeries and spirits as blasphemy, I couldn’t risk saying anything.”

“All right,” she conceded, “Let’s say I truly believe the Old Ones sent you, for whatever reason. What are we supposed to do next? You can’t take the book back with you anytime soon, and we still don’t know much about this curse we’re under. ”

Her hand strayed unconsciously to her collarbone, fingers trailing the veins of the cursed mark.

She had been horrified to look into the mirror this morning and realize the mark of the rose was still branded on her chest. It made the curse too real, reminding her that last night had not been a nightmare she could just wake up from.

“We could start by looking in the study for more information. I’m sure there must be something in your family’s books about this curse or Lore.”

As they entered the study, she gave Grim a discreet glance.

Now that she knew his secret, the scholarly disguise was gone.

Instead of a dusty green coat and overly messy hair, he wore black leathers and sturdy boots.

His hair was swept back, and somehow, he’d found a way to cut it between now and yesterday.

The shorter hair showed off his chiseled features and somehow made him look sharper, more dangerous.

She couldn’t help but feel a little flutter in her chest, and quickly looked away before he noticed her staring.

An hour later, she plopped herself down on the desk and sighed. They had found nothing—no clues at all—and her aunt’s journal didn’t have anything that pertained to a curse or a being called Lore.

She decided to pester Grim a little in revenge for his deception.

“So, your name is Grim.”

He looked at her warily, as if unsure where this was going.

“Yes, it is.”

“I can’t believe your name is Grim, and you were mocking my name and pink hair.” She threw up her hands. “As if your name isn’t the biggest indicator of your personality there could be.”

He did not dignify that with a response.

“Still,” she said thoughtfully, “it does suit you much more than Kai Gray did. It also makes so much sense now why you seemed like the oddest scholar I had ever met; you weren’t a scholar at all! You’re not very good at subterfuge, you know.”

He snorted. “Maybe I didn’t bother employing my full skills on you because I thought you weren’t smart enough.”

“Hey! I thought you were trying to make things up to me!”

He chuckled, still going through the books on the windowsill. Encouraged, she pressed on.

“Are you a sorcerer?”

“No.”

“But you used magic last night.”

“I know a bit of spirit magic. I can bend energy and such. But I cannot cast spells.”

“Are you an assassin, then?”

“No.”

“That’s fair,” she mused. “If you were an assassin, you would just have waited until I was asleep, slit my throat, and stolen the book without having to do any extra work.”

That got his full attention.

“You have the strangest sense of humor I’ve ever encountered, you know.”

She curtsied, knowing fully well he did not mean it as a compliment.

“Why, thank you.”

Shaking his head, he continued rummaging through books, and she moved the papers on the desk around idly, her fingers hitting something solid.

She frowned in confusion and moved the pages away to reveal a small ornate handheld mirror, silver in color.

Parts of it were rusted with age, and the handle was engraved with vines and flowers that snaked upwards to frame the surface.

At the center was a symbol that showed a stag’s antlers surrounding a butterfly .

“I’ve never seen this before,” she murmured, picking it up.

Grim was still searching the room, picking up book after book, but she was tired and needed a break. Holding up the mirror, she said in a sing-song voice, “Mirror mirror in my hand, who is the fairest maiden in the land?”

Grim rolled his eyes at the heavens, and she grinned. Then, before she could figure out what was happening, the mirror heated up, and there was a flash of bright light.

And Serena found herself staring at the most beautiful person she’d ever seen.

The woman in the mirror had skin so pale it was almost translucent, and her eyes were dark pools of ebony.

She had a long straight nose, full red lips and raven hair that fell in a straight dark curtain.

She wore no jewelry other than a tiara and a necklace that held a large silver crystal that looked like it cost more than the entire village of Glenn.

She wore an unsmiling expression, but her eyes were not unkind.

Serena was speechless. She vaguely heard Grim come up behind her to investigate the mirror, but she was unable to tear her eyes away.

“Hello Serena, I have been waiting for you.”

Stars, even her voice was lovely, like silver bells and crystal-clear water on a warm spring day.

The sound of her name jolted her out of her stupor.

“How do you know my name?” she managed, unable to hide the thick layer of suspicion in her voice.

“I know quite a bit more about you than just your name,” she said. “Maeve talked about you all the time.”

Her suspicion melted away to a bittersweet sadness.

“You knew my aunt?” she whispered .

“I did. A fine woman, incredibly intelligent and remarkably witty.” Her eyes seemed to take on a glaze of sadness. “I was incredibly grieved at her passing. She is an immense loss to your world.”

While it pleased her greatly to know there was someone who had known how remarkable Maeve Larke was, Serena did not miss the implications of her sentence.

“Our world?” she questioned, trying to hide the tremble in her voice.

“My apologies, I should have introduced myself. My name is Nerida, but you would know me as Titania, Queen of the Fairies.”