Page 2 of Royally Hacked Belle & Flame
“Oh, she’s heard it. I threaten to elope at least twice a day lately. I want to get married, but the actual wedding part is turning into a headache.”
Neither of them comments on that, probably because they know I’m one hundred percent serious. I was married once before, and I remember that being incredibly stressful, yet a regular human wedding has nothing on the complexity of a royal Fae wedding.
There have been hundreds of things to do, even with an entire staff of servants to help. Every court in Ellender is invited, and the political maneuvering of having so many royals in one place has been a nightmare. Then, there’s simple things like decorations and food, which somehow turned into a production fit for, well, a queen.
To complicate things further, there’s a Fae tradition that says that when royals get married, we have to grant a thousand wishes to anyone who asks in the week leading up to the wedding. Daemon and I are at 998 wishes and both so exhausted we can barely see straight.
“We only have a couple more wishes to grant, which is good because we need to go to the human world to visit my mother tonight.”
Odessa’s eyebrows raise. “Why tonight?”
I sigh, shaking my head. “Because it’s Christmas Eve.”
I have been regretting choosing December 26th as my wedding date since the moment we chose it.
The Fae don’t celebrate Christmas, but they celebrate Yule—a similar holiday which lasts twelve days, and reminds me of dark and witchy holiday aesthetic collages I used to see on Pinterest.
When Daemon and I chose the date of our wedding, we’d hoped that the week of Yule would make it easier for all the visiting courts to attend and perhaps we’d have less work to do and more time to focus on our wedding. In reality, it’s made things a hundred times more chaotic.
“You’re brave to get married this week,” the seamstress says, stepping back into the room. “Some might think it was bad luck.”
I snort. “Why? Is there another ancient tradition that I don’t know about?”
I’m joking…but like, no I’m not.Please, dear God, no more surprise traditions!
The seamstress shakes her head, her mouth tight. “No, my lady. Because of the witch, of course.”
Oh sure, of course, how silly of me to forget the witch.
Aurelia perks up at the window, interest piqued, and tosses her black braid over her shoulder. “What witch?”
Odessa scoffs. “Oh, please. Don’t start, Nerine.”
My eyebrows raise. “Wait, what are you talking about?”
“It’s just an old story to make children behave,” Odessa says soothingly. “Don’t worry about it.”
“It’s not a story,” the seamstress snaps. “The Yuletide witch is as real as you and I. She sleeps all year and rises only during this week during the darkest part of the year. When she wakes up, she’s starving, and she steals children from their beds to eat for her solstice feast.”
I glance sideways at Odessa, raising my eyebrows in question. Two years ago, before I was kidnapped by my one-night stand and discovered that magic and Fae exist, I would have immediately written that story off as insane. Now, I’ve learned to assume anything could be real until it’s proven otherwise.
Odessa groans and rubs her forehead. “It’s all nonsense. Folktales to keep children from sneaking out on solstice and getting eaten by wolves.”
Nerine’s eyes bug out of her head. “Believe what you want, but the witch has already been seen this season. My cousin’s neighbor’s friend saw her. Some say she has eyes black as coal and teeth sharp as glass. She can transform into a hideous beast, and some say?—”
“—that she can’t cross running water,” a lilting male voice interrupts. “Or that she’s terrified of bells. Or that she only eats bad children. Depends on who’s telling the story.”
I spin around, spotting Daemon in the doorway. He’s leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, staring at me. Instantly, all thoughts of witches and legends disappear from my mind.
Daemon and I have been soul-bonded for more than two years, but I swear to God I will never get tired of seeing him. With his lean muscles, chiseled jaw, and flashing green eyes, he’s always just as impossibly handsome as he was the first time we met.
I automatically smile at him, only then I remember he’s not supposed to see me. I screech and wrap my arms around myself. “Get out!”
Daemon cocks his head, grinning, and his coppery brown hair falls into his eyes. “What’s wrong, Peaches? Are you really sick of me already? We haven’t even gone through with the wedding.”
I double over as if I can hide my dress with my body alone, and Nerine lets out a pained wail and strides out of the room as if she can’t bear to see the gown wrinkled for even a moment. I ignore her, eyes fixed on Daemon. “You can’t see my dress! Go away!”
“Why can’t he see the dress?” Dessa asks.
