Page 101 of The Little Shop of Grand Curiosities

“What?”

“Look at me, my darling.”

Desperately, I raised my eyes to his.

He slid his hand across my jaw, taking my face in his palm, before silencing my doubts and fears forever. “I don’t know if it was stars, destiny, or just incredible luck that you found that necklace and that we found each other. I suppose people always like to think that something or someone up there is rooting for them. We might never know. But what I do know, what I’m certain of with every morsel and fiber of my being is that all these years you kept my heart safe, and I can only hope now that you’ll continue to do so. Because it’s still yours. You’ve had it, and you will have it for as long as you want it. I’m yours, for as long as you want me.”

How could I ever put it into words? I didn’t feel relieved, happy, or even renewed. I felt something that was more akin to awe at howmuchrelief, howmuchhappiness, and howmuchnewness the right words from the right person could bring upon you.

“A year?” I asked, smiling as wide as my face allowed.

“A year,” he promised.

“A decade?”

“A decade.”

“Forever?”

He smiled the way he did. “Forever.”

“Forever is a very long time,” I argued.

His eyes cleared—a fresh, cloudless sky. “I disagree.”

35

Nepheli

The Shop slowly returned to life as I sprinkled a generous amount of stardust into the cauldron, the gushing bubbles shifting from a foul grey to the green of clovers after rain. The reawakening was an unhurried, almost imperceptible process, but to the eye of the Curiosity was as stark and brilliant as the midday sun. The colors of the woodwork deepened. The garlands of crystals slightly veered to catch the golden morning light. The purple plants tilted upward in conspicuous exhalation. The bookcase in the corner shone like a giant sea-rock pushed out to the shore by an angry wave.

The Shop.

The Shop was awake.

Apollo and I dusted and swept, mopped and tidied, and now the Shop looked almost the same as I had left it, although I could not say the same about myself.

Nostalgia swelled in my chest—the anticipation of missing something in the near future—but not regret, and certainly not fear.

Apollo, recovered and as sturdy as a mountain once again, drew the purple curtain over the Celestial Door and gazed around in satisfaction. “I think it’s ready,” he said, putting the broom aside.

I nodded as I sat back on my chair behind the desk and started sorting through my correspondence. I had already written to my parents and tried to tell a story that I still had a hard time believing myself, and now they were awaiting us in the West, anxious and excited to finally meet Apollo.

We planned on visiting Walder and Agathe next before returning to Thaloria. I was going to be busy attending classes at Thaloria’s Academy of Magical Arts while Apollo was going to reassume his royal duties as the whole Asteria Realm had learned by now that Prince Apollo was finally cured. Even weeks after his recovery, the papers were still speculating about what had actually happened, with each story being more fanciful and absurd than the other. Apollo didn’t want our personal lives plastered all over the papers, so most of the articles told the tale of the Starshine Curiosity, who had restored the Prince of Broken Hearts with true love’s kiss.

Indeed, life had such a curious way of making fairytales out of our hardships.

Apollo came up behind me, put his hands on my shoulders, and scanned the letter I held between my fingers. “It was nice of Ryker to help you find a family to take over the Shop,” he said with grudging acquiescence.

I tucked the letter away and stood to lean against the edge of the desk, smiling coyly. “Look at you using the wordsniceandRykerin the same sentence.”

Apollo put the chair aside and came to slip his palms over the wooden surface behind me, trapping me in between. “I’m not jealous that you’re friends with your ex-fiancé. If he so much as tries something inappropriate with you, I’m going to kill him, but I’m notjealous.”

“Apollo!” I scolded.

“Right, right. Of course, I’m not going to kill him,” he said ruefully. “I’m just going to torture him until he begs me for death. So it would be a kindness, really.”

I slapped his arm, grumbling, “What am I going to do with you?”

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