Page 17 of A Witch for Solstice
The dream is over when I wake up, the bed empty. I pat the pillow beside me, finding a folded note on top.
I flop on my back and read it.
Dearest Hellcat,
Last night was amazing. I hope you’ll grant me the pleasure of joining me for a private luncheon in the throne room at noon. I want to talk to you about a special arrangement before the Solstice Ball begins.
Yours truly,
Matty
I press the paper to my eyes and groan. “An arrangement?”
Last nightwasamazing, and I’d love to repeat it, but Matty is choosing a mate tonight, and I don’t want her to be one of those monarchs who keeps a mistress.
I want her to be different. I want to believe that loyalty and true love exist.
Crumpling the note, I get out of bed and wander over to a pastry platter sitting on the counter. I take one of the sweets, my teeth breaking through the powdered sugar crust and into the jelly filling. After everything Matty told me, I refuse to believe she was only putting on an act for me.
Sheisdifferent. A true romantic. Maybe her nerves are just clouding her judgment.
I’ll meet with her today and talk her out of thisarrangement, but after she chooses a mate, I’ll keep my distance. That thought gives me a sinking feeling in my gut, but there’s no time to dwell on it.
Someone is knocking on the cabin door. Pulling my robe on, I pad across the floor and fling it open, shielding myself from the flurries blowing in.
A teacup dragon flits about in the doorway, her pink wool cap a few shades lighter than her fuchsia scales. “Hello, miss. My name is Zalea. The Queen has sent me to help you get ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“The ball, of course.”
I look down at my borrowed robe and run my fingers through my tangled hair. “I’m not invited.”
“Sure you are, silly,” she says, flying into the cabin. She picks one boot up at a time and tosses them at me. “There’s a lot of work to be done, so we’d better run along.”
She gestures for me to put my shoes on, and I oblige, following her out into the snow. I don’t know why Matty would invite me to the party. My wardrobe is limited, and I’m not a fine lady, but perhaps I’m only questioning her motives because I’m apprehensive about watching her announce her mate.Oh well.
I keep my concerns to myself as Zalea leads me through a back corridor and into a lavish octagonal room with eight windows letting plenty of light in. There’s a large tub filled with bubbly water, a rack full of dresses, a vanity with allsorts of powders and creams, and a plush carpet surrounded by four standing mirrors. Zalea sticks her head out the door and whistles, summoning several other castle maids. “Let’s get started.”
I’m attacked by a flurry of small dragons who scrub me viciously in the tub, then rub me down in oil before flying a light chemise above me and dropping it onto my outstretched arms. A whirlwind of combs and brushes swirl around my head, rouging my cheeks and braiding my hair into a half-up, half-down crown.
Once they’re finished with their plucking and primping, they bring out the most marvelous ruby dress with golden threads running through its strapless bodice. I step into it, and they flounce the voluminous skirt out around me.
“You’ll need these,” Zalea says. She flies with a friend, pulling sleek gloves on up to my elbows before bringing me into the circle of mirrors. I do a twirl, hardly believing the sight. There’s a light in my eyes that wasn’t there two days ago, a dead fire brought back to life.
Yes, I’ll meet with the Dragon Queen for lunch, then dance the night away as if watching her choose a mate won’t cause me some inexplicable pain. I have everything I ever wished for while I was at the Academy. It would be greedy to wish for more already.
I repeat that to myself as I’m walking to the throne room, bowing my head for the two guards who open the door for me. Matty uncrosses her legs and springs from her throne, her heels clicking over the singed remnants of the red aisle runner. Her golden suit is an exact match for the threads in my dress. It’s tailored perfectly, cut to her lean body. Her cape flows back around her shoulders as she stops before me, touching the golden circlet on her head.
“You got my message,” she says. “My gods, you are perfect.”
I ignore the weakness in my knees. Someday, I won’t feel like melting into a puddle around Matty. I remind myself to think of her astheQueen.
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
She fidgets with her cuffs. “You sound like you’re cross with me.”
“I’m not.” I toe my fancy slippers against the floor, watching the candlelight sparkle on their crystal embellishments. “But you showed me more tenderness in one day than I’ve experienced in years. I’ll cherish that memory for as long as I live, so please don’t tarnish it.”
