Page 139 of Happily Ever Witch
Her lips parted. He must be on the right track.
“Let’s make another deal. What can I do to get a ‘yes’ from you?”
“I don’t know.” She finally murmured. She seemed calmer. He was winning. He could tell. “I guess you could tryaskingme to marry you.”
Simple enough. “Will you marry me, Ez?”
“Nope.”
Trevelyan tipped his head back and groaned. “Oh for God’s sake…”
“I’m mad at you, because you’re an idiot. I need time to calm down.” She headed for the cave entrance, black curls bouncing. “Ask again later.”
Shit.
Compromising was going to take some getting used to.
Chapter Twenty-Six
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The Club Castle
Something wasn’t quite right.
Bluebeard tried convincing himself that the vague sense of unease was just his imagination. That the situation was all going great. That the spell convincing Marrok he was married to Snow White was permanent. That Bluebeard had done his job. That the Queen of Clubs would soon let him go on his merry way. That this happy family meal wouldn’t end in a bloodbath.
The only problem was: he didn’t quite believe any of it.
“I think we should honeymoon in the Fae Islands.” Snow White told Marrok, hanging onto his arm like parasitic moss. “They’re supposed to be just mimsy! I’ve always wanted to see them.”
“And I’ve always wanted to see you in a bathing suit.” Marrok drawled and playfully poked her up-turned nose with his index finger.
Snow White giggled like that was just the height of wit.
Bluebeard tried not to retch in his mustard-flavored oatmeal. The Mad Hatter had fixed a “surprise brunch” for the whole family and it wasdefinitelya surprise. There were worms in the coffee and extra, extra,extrasugar in the butter. But no matter how repulsive the food, it was still more appetizing than listening to Snow White and Marrok cooing at each other.
God, something just wasn’t quite righthere.
“Gyre soldiers are in the Fae Islands.” The Mad Hatter’s huge purple top hat had been switched for a huge purple chef’s hat. “Lotsof them. And they’re a much more organized group of warriors than those rejects in the Diamond Kingdom. Stay away from humans, Snow. Too many crazies.”
Aside from calling-other-kettles-black, the Hatter was fully focused on his gourmet cooking. He even occasionally whistled while he worked. An off-key version ofTwinkle, Twinkle Little Bataccompanied the rhythmicslamsof a cleaver as he chopped up a live mouse. A make-your-own-omelet station was being arranged on the ebony wood buffet, against the wall. Bluebeard would be skipping the minced rodent, when he created his perfect egg dish.
He also didn’t argue with the man’s take on those magic-hating humans. Although, to Bluebeard’s mind, the Gyre’s murderous bigotry and the Mad Hatter’s murderous lunacy were exactly the same. Get too close and you ended up like a mouse in an omelet: Sliced to pieces and wondering how the fuck you got there.
“Hatty, don’t start complaining about the Gyre.” The Queen of Clubs instructed. “I don’t want any politics discussed today. I’m having a guest over later and I want everything civilized and polite. Grimhilde the Wicked Witch. You remember her?”
“Nope.”
“Of course you do! She has a place in the Spade Kingdom. She’s held inveryhigh regard, for her seminal thesis on magical uses for still-beating hearts.” The Queen of Clubs seemed pleased to know such an illustrious person. “Grimhilde has the exact expertise I need. With the witch’s heart taken care of, we can decapitate that green bitch and get my tiara. Witches’ biology can be so complicated, so an expert is really…”
“You said you were going to spare Ez.” Marrok interrupted. “We had a deal.”
The Queen of Clubs frowned impatiently. “We still do. I’m sure Grimhilde will be able to find some way to rip out your friend’s still-beating heart without killing her. Itwillstill be beating, after all.”
