Page 168 of Mountain of Mirrors and Starlight
“Mab?” Beau said, aghast. “Minnie?”
“You seem surprised that I have friends, Young Prince.”
“I’m surprised that you’re here. And also the friends part, yes. But mostly surprised that you’re here. Also worried. You’re always turning up right beforethings happen.”
Mabel chuckled again, as if this were all a great game to her. “You say my appearance heralds disaster, Young Prince… and yet you are still alive. I just like to be where the action is.”
“There’s going to be action here? I thought we were supposed to be safe here. Aislinn, she said—”
“She’s teasing you, just ignore her.”
“I can be teasing you and still be right.”
Beau froze. “I really, really don’t like you.”
There seemed to be no end to Mabel’s laughter, but now even Ais was laughing, clapping her hand around his back and sidling off, back to Caer’s side.
Beau knew he ought to return to the party, but he wasn’t quite sure he was ready to let this go. His eyes were rooted on Mabel still, and he noticed a faint glittery quality to her clothes—like the type associated with a glamour. That ought to have been impossible. Beau was immune to all but the strongest of glamours—and certainly should have been immune to any cast by a simple witch, no matter her power—and glamours weren’t supposed to work inside the castle at all.
“Are you doing magic?”
Mabel’s eyes flickered, her smile dropping, just for a second. “How on Earth would I accomplish a thing like that?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.”
Mabel chuckled. “You’re a smart one, little prince, I’ll give you that.”
“I am very smart,” Beau agreed. “I might even be as smart as you one day, if I live so long.”
Mabel’s eyes gleamed. “Oh no, little prince, no one will ever live as long as me.”
Beau blinked at her, bewildered. “Who—what—exactly are you?”
“I may tell you one day. I may not. I haven’t decided yet.”
“Great. Can you tell me how you’re doing magic here?”
“I am the greatest witch that ever lived. You can glamour me on that.”
“Something tells me, that even if we stepped outside the palace walls, you’d still have ways of dispelling any and all glamours.”
“There you go again with that intelligence, prince,” she said, patting his face like an affectionate grandma. “Hold onto it. It’ll serve you well.”
Aislinn went back to Caer’s side, took the plate of food he’d found for them both, and dragged him into an alcove to devour it. Her skirts spilled around them. The tailors had done a good job with her gown—it was a deep sea blue that matched her colouring perfectly—but it wasn’t as fluid or as graceful as the glistening gowns of Faerie.
For a moment, she felt a pang at the idea that it might be a long time before Caer saw her in a true Faerie dress. She supposed she could pack one for the next time she visited… whenever that would be.
No, no. Don’t think about that. Not tonight.
She still needed to talk to Venus, but she’d disappeared after opening the dance, and Aislinn hadn’t seen her since.
“What are you thinking about?” Caer prompted.
Aislinn crossed her bare ankles over his legs and plucked the fruit in his outstretched fingers directly into her mouth with her tongue. Caer stared at her, leaning over to kiss the juice from her chin. It had the bitter, sweet tang of a grape, but soon she could taste nothing but his lips.
“You’re driving me wild,” he breathed into her mouth.
“Steady,” she said, placing a hand to his chest. “We are not in a private space, and this is not Faerie. We can’t couple out in the open.”
