Page 2 of Must Love Scones and Secrets
Chuckling to myself, I said sweetly, “I’ll be right back.”
Grabbing my bag and sweater, I approached the back of the restaurant. When I reached the restrooms, I veered right. Slipping behind the servers, I made my way into the kitchen, where I was met with questioning stares. Fortunately, Violet was working. When she saw me, she gave me an empathetic smile.
“Vi, I am so sorry to crash your kitchen,” I said.
“No explanation needed,” Violet said. “I already saw him, and I definitely heard him. Scoot before he realizes,” she said, gesturing to the door.
“Thank you so much,” I said, giving her a grateful smile. “Come see me tomorrow. I owe you a scone and a pot of tea! On the house!”
“I’ll take you up on that offer!”
I was almost out the door but paused when I passed a tray of the bloomberry tarts.
I turned back to Violet, but she was already laughing. “Take one. You’ve earned it.”
Giving her a grin, I snatched one of the tarts and then fluttered out of the kitchen and onto the cobblestone streets of Moonshine Hollow.
Relieved to be back outside, I took a deep breath and started on my way home.
Enchanted lanterns floated overhead, their fragile colored paper casting rainbow hues on the evening crowds. Moonflowers bloomed in every window box, their iridescent petals unfurling in the darkness and releasing their sweet, dreamy fragrance. It was a beautiful summer night with a full moon and fireflies dancing through the air, their lights mingling with the sparkles of fairy dust that drifted down from the wings of the tiny passing fairies that tended the night-blooming flowers.
Summer had come to Moonshine Hollow once more, and the whole world seemed buzzing with cricket song. A couple walked hand in hand down the street in front of me, passing beneath an arch of moonblush roses that glowed with a soft pink light as they passed by. The evening was warm and sultry, perfect for spending the night with someone you love. Unfortunately for me, Grakkar wasnotsomeone for me. I hoped that ditching him in the middle of the restaurant would signal that clearly enough.
With a sigh, I fluttered my pale blue wings and drifted back home, munching on the bloomberry tart as I went. At the very least, the tart had been as good as I dreamed. Far better than the date.
I kept an apartment on the floor above my bakery where I lived with therealman of my life. Being a pixie afforded certain benefits. I could fly, of course, which meant I didn’t need to climb a flight of stairs to get to my second-floor flat. Flutteringupward, I made my way to my slightly cracked window. Pushing it open, I slipped inside.
I was met at once with a questioning meow.
“I know, I know,” I said with a defeated sigh. “I’m home early. You don’t have to rub it in, Merry.”
I snapped my fingers, causing blue sparks to shoot around the room, lighting the candles in my living room. Merry was curled up in his favorite spot at the end of my chaise lounge. Kicking off my heels and dropping my bag and sweater into a chair, I scooped up my caticorn and settled onto the chaise.
“Merry, you may be the only man I will ever truly love. Doesn’t that make you happy?”
The cat purred, rubbing his head against me for pats but being careful that he didn’t poke me with his little golden horn. He paused, giving himself a little shake before he sneezed. His golden horn glowed brightly for a moment, the effect blinding. When it dissipated, I discovered I was covered in a cloud of multicolored sparkles.
“What the—Merry, are you all right?”
Merry merely blinked, then shook his head, getting out the last of the unexpected sneeze. His golden horn glowed softly as it did when he performed magic. Merry’s enchantments mostly consisted of zapping mice or growing iridescent golden wings when he had the zoomies. Sneezing glitter was a new one.
I studied the cat for any signs that he wasn’t feeling well—no runny nose, crusty eyes, and he didn’t seem overly warm. “Must be the heat of summer,” I said, then settled back, absently brushing the glitter away. Merry curled up on my lap as I lay back in the chaise and looked out at the moon.
“Where is my great love story? I want bards to sing about the epic love of Rosalyn Hartwood and her soulmate…the greatest love story of all time. Where isthatlove?” Sighing, I lookeddown at Merry. “Well, Mer-Mer, it’s not happening tonight. Now, where did I leave those triple-chocolate scones?”
CHAPTER 2
BJORN
The blonde-haired beauty on my arm gave me a heated smile, lowering her long lashes and then gazing up at me once more as we twirled around the room. “I am quite adept at all styles of dance, of course. I’ve trained since I was a young girl. Is there a waltz you prefer?” Ingri asked, beaming a smile that could probably be seen from the southern kingdoms.
“No. I feel equal toward them all,” I replied, my true meaning being I disliked them all equally, but I wouldn’t be rude enough to say so to the chieftain’s daughter. It was not her fault I disliked dancing, loud parties, or rooms packed with people—such as the one I found myself currently trapped in.
The noise in the great hall reverberated off the carved timbers overhead. The king, my father, laughed loudly. His booming laughter filled the entire room and warmed it too, which was no small feat in Frostfjord, where even our summers felt like winter to southern visitors. Pounding his fist on the table, he laughed at a joke one of his men had told him. Beside him, my mother, her long hair pulled into a braid over her shoulder, leaned across the table to speak to Princess Bibka, the frost giantess princess whose family was visiting Frostfjord for trade. My mother’s eyes kept darting between me and her target.
I flicked a glance at Princess Bibka. The giantess princess was a beauty with her pale blue skin and long, dark-blue hair, but she looked even more uncomfortable than me. She was, however, precisely the sort of person my mother deemed perfect. Ingri had been my mother’s primary target until Bibka arrived.
“So, your wife would have access to all her husband’s royal allowance, would she not?” Ingri asked, pulling my attention back with the subtlety of a battering ram. “With that, she could purchase whatever she liked, right? I don’t mean to be rude to ask, but my father has always been very sparing with his wealth, and all my dresses are nearly threadbare! Just look,” she said, gesturing to her bodice which was decidedlynotthreadbare. She jutted her heaving breasts toward me with such force I nearly had to step back, leaving me wondering how she’d managed to keep them from popping out of the top of her gown. Ingri smiled coyly. “Do you see, Bjorn? I mean, do youreallysee?”
