Page 95 of Disenchanted
“What?” My mind was still boggling over the information about those sirens and their magical tongues.
“You mentioned kissing a couple of princes. That implies two.” Mal held up a pair of fingers. “Who was the second one?”
I gave a weary sigh. I really did not want to discuss my painful discovery that my long-lost lover had turned out to be Prince Ryland in disguise. But I had already hurt Mal enough by keeping Harper a secret from him in the first place. So, I told him about the scene on the balcony.
“That treacherous bastard!” Mal growled. “If I ever cross paths with him, he’ll lose a lot more than his hand.”
“Forget about him, Mal. I assure you that I have.”
I tried to shrug, but some of the lingering ache I felt over Harper must have shown on my face. Either that or Mal simply knew me far too well. His grim expression softened, and he held out his arms.
“Come here.”
When I regarded him warily, he gave a rueful laugh. “No kissing, I promise. But you’ve had a demon of a night, my dear friend. You look as though you need a hug.”
I stumbled into his arms. I fit so comfortably against his shoulder and Mal stroked my hair, murmuring nonsense and consoling me as he had done so often over the course of our friendship. I felt so drained, I wished I could have closed my eyes and remained tucked in Mal’s embrace for the rest of the night.
But I was too aware of the hard lean, musculature of his body, the tension in his arms. I could sense his desire for me, the effort that it cost him to restrain himself. I drew awkwardly away from him.
“I really do need to get back to my family,” I insisted. But I recollected one more thing I had neglected to tell Mal about, and he was not going to like it.
As Mal moved to douse the lantern, I said, “Something else happened this evening that you should know about. Your witch friend attempted to attend the ball.”
“Delphine? What was she doing there?”
“I think she had some notion of helping me get the orb for you.”
“Silly witch. How did she think she was ever going to get past Mercato and those aura cats?”
“I don’t know. She had barely set foot inside the palace gates when that magical alarm thing on Mercato’s scepter went off and he sent the guards after her. She got away by conjuring up this mist and then she…” I winced, knowing how mad this was going to sound. “She transformed herself into a cat.”
“She what?” Mal laughed. “My dear Ella, how much pixie dust have you been snorting this evening?”
“None! It’s true, Mal. I watched her do it with my very own eyes.” I went on to describe with greater detail Delphine’s transformation into the black cat Ebony.
Mal folded his arms across his chest, looking skeptical. “You are trying to tell me that Ebony is really…”
“Delphine.”
“The same cat that likes to follow me around and rub up against me?”
“Delphine.”
A frown creased Mal’s brow as he struggled to get his head around this disturbing revelation. “You mean the same cat that I sometimes allow to snuggle in bed with me?”
“Yes! That’s Delphine.”
“The cat that often tries to leap onto my lap and use her front paws to knead my… my…” Mal shuddered. “Oh, frapping fairies, Ebony really is Delphine.”
He rubbed his arms as though his skin crawled with fleas. He groaned. “I need to go home and take a scalding hot bath.”
Mal had teased me so many times during the years of our friendship. I fear that I enjoyed telling him about Delphine far more than I should have. Feeling slightly repentant for my glee,I gave him a quick peck on the cheek in parting. I left him still trying to come to grips with the realization he had been sharing his bed with a lascivious witch.
I approached the palace with trepidation, but the guardian fairies, if there truly were such things, finally deigned to smile upon me. The fireworks were over, and all the guests had headed to the banqueting hall for the midnight supper. Prince Florian had either staggered off in search of his sword or been found by some of the palace guards and carted off to his bed. No doubt the poor fellows were accustomed to performing such duties for the royal family.
Either way, I was relieved to be spared another encounter with my pixified royal suitor. I wondered wistfully where Horatio was and hoped he was having some success in persuading Mercato to spare the Hanson family.
I found Netta bidding a sad farewell to her sergeant. I scooped her up and with Lord Redmond’s help, managed to get my stepmother and sisters to our carriage. Our departure was somewhat enlivened by Amy puking all over His Lordship’s shoes. I hoped the poor man was not repulsed by my sister’s antics. I liked Chuffy and wanted him to call upon Em. Out of all of us, my stepmother was the only one who had enjoyed what might prove to be a promising romance.
