Page 101 of Sincerely, Secretary of Doom

Neither fairy spoke as the human receptionist tidied up a few things in the room and left so that Mor could ‘have his appointment’ first thing in the morning with the doctor.

The moment the door to the doctor’s room closed, the old fairy lifted a hand with his palm up as if to stop Mor—as though he expected some sort of reaction. Which he should have, since Mor was ready to grab the fool, airslip into the clouds, and drop him from the sky.

But Mor folded his arms, quite aware of his fairsaber handles in his pockets. “I was wondering what sort of doctor in their right human mind would prescribe cold iron as a supplement,” Mor said to him. “But I suppose I should have guessed that no human doctor would.”

The doctor’s face squinted in confusion before he seemed to put the pieces together. He dropped his hand and folded his arms, mirroring Mor. Mor was slightly surprised to see muscles appear on the fellow. The doctor’s casual clothes hid them well.

“I only prescribe cold iron to humans who are in danger of fairy meddling,” the doctor explained. “And I only did it once. You must be here about Violet Miller.”

Mor itched to bash in every cupboard of supplements in this doctor’s office. “What in the name of the sky deities would make you tell a human to consume cold iron? The pills aren’t only hurting her insides, they’re going to shorten her human life, possibly by years!” Mor growled.

The doctor sighed and slid his hands into his pockets. “Judge me if you’d like, Shadow Fairy, but until you just said that, I didn’t even know if you were a friend of Violet Miller’s or a foe,” he admitted. “I prescribed Violet cold iron to save her life. Yes, she may live a shorter human life if she continues to take those pills forever, but I deemed the risk worth it. It’s better for her to live a slightly shortened human life with the occasional stomach-ache than to be hunted down and probably killed by fairies at thirteen years of age. Wouldn’t you agree?”

For a moment, Mor didn’t have an argument. But even so, he had to put an end to this.

“I will not allow her to live a shortened life because of cold iron,” Mor stated. “You can prescribe her regular iron from now on if she has a low-iron condition.”

The doctor nodded and chewed on the inside of his cheek. “The first time Violet Miller came in here a decade ago, I nearly slapped my hand over my nose. The scent of fairies was so strong on her, I worried every fairy hidden in the city for miles would be drawn to it. Even after all these years, when she comes in here, I can still smell it.” He released a huff and eyed Mor. “Fairies will come for her—always. She’s too interesting to let pass by. I am not young anymore, as you can see. And I already have a job, so I could not take on the role of following her around to ensure she was left alone. Cold iron enhancements were the only way I could be certain she would not be touched, even if the fairies did find her. So, I stand by my decision. For her own safety, I believe she should keep taking them.”

Mor shook his head. “She doesn’t need them anymore. Fairies won’t touch her, whether her skin will burn them or not,” he stated.

“How can you be so sure?” the doctor asked. “I may not be human, but she is still my patient. And I take my job seriously.” His narrowing eyes emitted a warning.

“Because she has me now.” Mor sauntered in a step, standing slightly over the doctor so the intent in his tone would be clear. “Her forever mate.”

The doctor’s face changed. He drew back a little then looked Mor up and down. At first, he appeared doubtful, but then… a gradual smile spread across his face. “Ah, I see.” He nodded once. Twice. “Very good then.”

The doctor turned and fetched a notepad from his table. He scribbled something on it. Mor leaned to try and read what the doctor-fairy was writing, but the scrawl was horrendously messy. He straightened when the doctor tore the sheet from the notepad and handed it to him.

“This is a new prescription for Miss Miller. As her guardian, please ensure she takes one every evening before she sleeps. I’m counting on you, Shadow Fairy,” the doctor said.

Mor took the slip of paper. He couldn’t have read the prescription if his faeborn life depended on it. But he folded it and tucked it into his pocket with his fairsaber handle, trusting it was for plant-based iron that had nothing to do with fairies.

The café was empty apart from a lazy fae Prince by the fireplace reading a book he claimed to have written. The fire was lit, breathing warmth through the space. The mornings were just beginning to get cool as fall approached, and the crackling fire brought a soothing music into the room.

Mor closed the door behind him. Kate’s novel,TheHigh Court of the Coffee Bean,hovered in Cress’s hands, and Mor considered that the Prince would do well to let the story go and write a new one, instead of constantly going back to his and Kate’s origin story to relive it.

Cress released a chuckle from the plush chair as he read, making Mor realize Cress had no idea Mor was even there.

“You’ve been in the human realm too long,” Mor said to him, and Cress glanced up in surprise. “Your senses have turned to lakeweed mush. I could have crept up behind you and run you through.” Mor kicked off his shoes and slid on the fresh pair of cream-coloured slippers someone had left by the door.

“Those are Kate’s,” Cress informed him as he eyed the slippers.

Mor wandered over to the fireplace chairs regardless, sat, and put his feet up on the stool between them. “Kate has big feet,” he remarked.

“No, she doesn’t. You’re stretching her slippers.” Cress closed the book and rested it on his lap, leaning back against the chair’s headrest.

“Why are there no customers today?” Mor asked, eyeing the empty tables.

Cress sighed and shook his head. “Well, I did a rather exceptional cooking show yesterday, and I invited all my human subjects—”

“Subscribers,” Mor corrected.

“—to our café to try my latest cupcake recipe. Unfortunately, Dranian mucked up the enchantment, and all who ate my delicious cupcakes were hit with unstoppable, raging diarrhea,” Cress said. “It was an absolute mess, Mor. You can’t even imagine.”

“That’s horrifying.” Mor hid a smile.

“So, we shut down for the rest of the day. Shayne’s been having nightmares anyway and wanted to catch up on sleep,” Cress finished, and Mor raised a brow.

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