Page 116 of Prince of the Northwest Forest
Chapter Thirty-Two
JUSTICE
Enough time has passed since I recovered my memory in the Fae Realm that by now everyone else who was affected by the spell has also recovered their memory. My mother has called me four times, crying about all that I lost. She offered to come home from Washington, but I convinced her to stay and keep taking care of her friend.
I’ve been doing double shifts at Café Magnifique to make up for all the time I was away on my two quests. Kalle has come by a few times, but he’s busy. Apparently things aren’t going well with the Fire Realm, so he’s been in a lot of meetings. I understand, but I miss him, and I’m looking forward to date night with my, uh, knight.
The worst thing I’ve learned: Kalle told me that his parents were the ones who orchestrated my—our—memory loss. After the betrayal subsided, I admitted to him that I didn’t know how to deal with that. He told me I didn’t have to, that he was going to figure it out. So for now I’m shoving it to the side and preparing to attend the masquerade ball.
I check my reflection in the mirror. My one and only suit fits me well, my hair is neatly trimmed, and I shaved. I’m early, butI figure Layla and Sheena always need extra hands. And maybe I’m excited to see my boyfriend all gussied up.
I’m grabbing my keys when my phone rings.
“Hey, Layla,” I say, sticking my wallet in my pocket. “Need some last-minute help?”
Her enthusiastic voice comes over the line. “I do, but not in a way you think.”
My eyebrows knit together. “What’s going on?”
“Mr. Tishman, Daryl’s father, called and asked if he could get some help encouraging Daryl to go to the ball tonight. Our boy is being held back by heartbreak and daytime television, a prison of his own making.”
Poor Daryl. When I got back from the Fae Realm, I learned that he’d returned from his trip to the Coral Kingdom by way of the hospital. So I’ve spent much of my free time since then visiting his crotchety ass. His physical wounds are healing, but I think his bruised heart is causing him as much trouble as his lungs. After a certain point, though, he needs to rejoin the living.
“I’ll be over to help right away.” My best friend can’t miss the dance. I race out the door, and soon I’m skidding to a stop on his dad’s doorstep.
“Just a minute!” I hear Daryl call when I ring the doorbell.
The door opens, and he’s standing there in his underwear and a ratty old tank top, his lips pursed and his head tilted to the side. “Justice? What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to be your fairy godmother.” I ease myself in, careful not to jostle his crutches. “I’m taking you to the ball, Cinderella. Or was it the mouse who took her to the ball? Or a pumpkin?” I shake my head. “Whatever, let’s go.”
“Huh?” Daryl’s eyebrows pull together. “I’m … not going.”
“Oh yes you are,” Daryl’s father says, appearing with a change of clothes for him. “I called your best friend here.”
“Well, he called Layla first,” I clarify. “But she’ssuperbusy setting up. So I’m here to take you to the gala.”
“What?” Daryl asks. He’s been injured and in the hospital. I’ll forgive his mental fog.
“The Renversé Hotel masquerade ball,” I say, with infinite patience. “Don’t tell me you’re going to skip out on the biggest social event of the year. Forcharity.”
Daryl’s father and I convince him to get dressed and attend. I know I’m being pushy, but this is for his own good. Sometimes it takes a friend to see what you can’t.
“Shall we?” Kalle asks me, taking my hand. He smells wonderful—like the fresh pines of the forest—and the warmth of his body is welcoming.
We’re standing under a sparkling chandelier in the newly restored wing of the Renversé Hotel. Layla hired a tech wizard to fix it up, so the place marries modern technology with its classic nineteenth-century-hotel vibes. Here in the ballroom, tables surround a dance floor where masked couples are dancing. I set Daryl up at a table and made sure he’s taken care of as far as food and beverages, and I’ve ogled all of the finely dressed guests who match the elegant surroundings.
But the surroundings and other guests don’t make me swoon the way my boyfriend does. Prince Kalle is in a forest green velvet tailcoat, with breeches and shiny shoes. His outfit should be ridiculous, but with his long hair and deep scar, it works. Even with a black mask on, the scar makes his identity obvious.
I fucking love it. Kalle has fought for what’s right, both to save me and to save his realm. I care for him, not because of his looks or his royal status, but for who he is.
He’s charming and courtly, kind to animals, and patient. He’s got a sense of duty a mile long and an even stronger will. As someone named for justice, I approve of all these things.
Kalle pulls me close, and I put a hand on his waist. “I don’t know how to dance,” I admit.
He smiles. “I’ll teach you.”
Gah. “You’re so damn sexy,” I mutter. “I want to do very naughty things to you.”
