Page 89 of Suspicions on the Stage
I pop a chip in my mouth, shrugging. “So?”
He wipes his hands, serious now. “Do you think you can shield them from what’s coming through home renovations, Li? Now who’s being ridiculous?”
I think about Morgana, about the lines under her eyes and the way she drinks coffee like it’s a shield against the day. I think about Lucas, who would never admit he’s scared but still checks the locks three times before bed. I think about Slade’s hands, shaking at his sides as he stood on that stage for hours.
“I thinkwecan make it easier,” I say. “And that’s worth a little time and money. You and I have been through wars, old friend. We have seen what happens when rebels gather power, consolidate, and launch attacks from all sides. None of them has—even Morgana’s age hasn’t put her squarely in the middle of one. Our experience can help us guide and protect them, even if it's covert for now.”
The dragon chews on that, then nods once, like a general approving a mad plan. “That’s true. Our past gives us a unique perspective on this situation—both the small and the broader implications. I suppose it’s not a bad plan to prepare for the worst now.”
“Right. That’s why our next stop is all about defense. Are you ready?”
Kaspar nods, and we toss our garbage, then he heads out of the lot.
I think he’ll actually enjoy this stop.
The magic shop is next,and before we go in, I have to weave magic that will hide my true visage from anyone inside. This place is known for having the most expensive, exotic, and outstanding spell work materials in the city, but it hides in a dingy part of town. It’s also rated the highest in terms of Fae-friendly staff and supplies, which are definitely part of my list today.
That means I cannot have anyone recognize me as the Prince of the Daybreak Court, hence the disguise.
The air is dense with pine and something metallic—ozone or perhaps preserved blood. The shopkeeper is definitely Fae, though he wears his human glamour while working. That clues me in that his patronage isnotall supernatural and I cut a glance at my companion to make sure he’s taken note of that.
“What do you seek, newcomers?” the shopkeeper asks, his voice neither high nor low but right in the uncanny pocket where all Fae choose to modulate their tones in human spaces.
“I have an extensive list,” I say, “for a residential ritual space used by Fae and mages. Also, I’d like it to be—” I glance at Kaspar, “shifter and mythical-friendly materials.”
He leads us through a corridor of glass cases, each more beautiful and predatory than the last. There are crystals that pulse to your heartbeat, ink-black stones that trap the light, and tiny vials labeled in a script that prickles my tongue just to read.
You don’t see High Fae in this realm often, especially not the Reaping dialect.
Kaspar hangs back, hands in pockets, scanning for suspicious people or items that we should avoid. I take my time, letting the shopkeeper help me gather each item for the space. He has to pitch everything, then wait for me to examine them. That’s when the bargaining begins. There’s an etiquette to these exchanges: never accept the first offer, never show too much hunger, and never ever touch the merchandise unless invited.
I choose my materials, trinkets, and weapons carefully—giving thought to everything both Iggy and I might need. I know he has his own things he will bring to the house once I assemble this space, but I want to make certain that we have a complete pantry until he gives up that damn apartment. It’s for everyone’s safety, and I’m doing it so he can come to a decision on his own once Morgana lets him in.
Kaspar groans as he watches me pile on more and more, cleaning out cabinets full of expensive supplies as the keeper’s eyes fill with dollar signs. Once we’re done, he leads us up to the counter and arches a brow.
“Payment?”
I look at the dragon, who pulls out the black, sparkling card. He doesn’t blink, but I feel his shock. We can’t hide the royal emblem on it from him, and now he knows we’re part of Daybreak somehow. “Shall I have this delivered for you? No charge, of course.”
Hell no. I don’t want any random people knowing where we live.
“No,” I say. “Kaspar and I can manage it once it’s in the SUV.”
He passes me a small slip of paper, handwritten in the same script as the labels. “Call if you need replenishment,” he says. “I can take down the order and have it ready for pick-up when you arrive.”
“Noted,” I say as Kaspar pushes the cart away from the counter with a grunt. “He will return for the bigger items one by one.”
We head outside, and when he opens the trunk, my friend looks at me as we load. “You’re going to build an entire garden and ritual space behind the gazebo, then?” he asks.
I watch him, nodding as I rearrange things to make sure there’s no spillage while we drive. “Of course I am. I’d prefer everything at my fingertips rather than wait as we had to do when Lucas was poisoned. That was nerve-wracking when hewasn’tmy mate, Kas.”
“If it draws the wrong attention, what then?” He looks at me seriously, and I sigh.
I smile a fake, princely smile—the one that got me through ten years of ballrooms and backroom deals and assassination attempts. “Then we’ll call it a gift to the university—a Fae garden shared by the royal emissaries.”
He shakes his head, but the look in his eyes is amused. “Hopefully, you can sell that.” His phone dings and he looks at briefly, then meets my gaze.
“The meeting we asked for is on. I need to finish loading this so we can make it to the place on time.”
