Page 46 of The Prince and His Stolen Groom
“That I don’t experience time linearly. That doesn’t mean I can predict the future. I haven’t seen this scene yet.”
“But the wedding—”
“Yes, I’ve ordained all of the weddings, but I didn’t witness the events leading up to them or stay for the receptions. Well, I have since then, and I am now, if that makes any sense.”
“It doesn’t.”
He didn’t reply. Kit wondered if her inability to understand his time-travel lifestyle had insulted him into silence until he ordered, “Stop. Remove the helmet. You need to see this clearly.”
Since he already knew who she was—or who she wasn’t, at least—she removed the helmet and shook out her sweaty hair.
The wizard pointed to the forest. Kit obediently looked, then stared, then blinked very hard to erase any false images in her brain, and stared some more.
The forest loomed before them, dark and foreboding, every tree covered with thorns and malice.
The Good Wizard’s grand, commanding voice quavered as he announced, “Evil has infiltrated the kingdom.”
Chapter Nineteen
“Why do you have so many magic items anyway?”
The question surprised me—partially because Brendon’s timing was terrible, and he asked itrightas I had taken a large bite of the sandwich he’d made me. Since I wasn’t about to talk with my mouth full, I had to chew and swallow first, which somehow seemed to take three times as long as usual. “I like them. They’re convenient and useful.”
Brendon rolled his eyes. “Fine, let me rephrase:howdo you have so many magic items? I thought that after the evil mages were kicked out, the industry died.”
I took another bite and considered how to answer while I chewed. He was right, in a way. The evil mages, when they weren’t plotting treachery and world domination, often had side-businesses selling magical objects. Everything from common household goods—knives that never dulled and sponges that washed the dishes for you—to more elaborate enchantments—horseless carriages and magic towers. No one actuallyknewthey were the same evil mages, so when the stores all suddenly shut down, there were a few months of shopper confusion.
It started an odd domino effect. Some of the remaining mages tripled or quadrupled their prices to take advantage of the lower supply. After their profits soared, a few of them decided, ‘hey, a life of evil may be for me’ and then they became subject to the defense spell. Because of the higher prices, more people started simply doing thedishes themselves, and so demand steeply dropped. By the time I had an allowance, there was only one magical shop left within a day’s ride of the castle, and it was more novelty items than anything useful.
“Some of them I bought,” I explained, gesturing to the tower. “This was an old tourist trap.”
He stared at me for a long moment before demanding, “Do you mean people came here to be trapped in a tower forfun?”
“Sure. People would line up in costume and do silly things like throw their braid out the window for someone to climb—they wore enchanted wigs,” I explained at his horrified expression, “and there was padding on the ground in case the rescuer fell. Some couples even rented it out for their honeymoon.”
He still looked skeptical about anyone locking themselves in a tower voluntarily. Then he asked, “Haveyouever been trapped in here? Aside from today.”
That depended on how he defined ‘trapped.’ Somehow, I didn’t think ‘playing house with a lover’ counted, even if it did end badly. So, I ignored his question and continued my explanation. “Other things I made myself.”
“Wait, youmadethem?” he asked, eyes widening in shock, and a new eagerness entered his voice. “Which ones?” Before I could answer, he snapped his fingers and declared, “The toy chest! I wondered what mage was out there making magical sex toys.”
I blushed and focused on eating my sandwich until the heat in my cheeks faded. “Yeah, those are all my own designs.”
“Rick, that’s absolutely amazing,” he said, gazing at me like it was the first time he’d really seen me.
I ducked my head, struggling to accept the full force of his praise.
“What was the first one you made?”
“The collar.”
His eyebrows shot up and he straightened to attention, his own sandwich completely forgotten by now. “Do I finally get to learn what it does?”
Sighing, I admitted, “It gives you fluffy dog ears. I made it for a masquerade costume one year.”
“And you simply … repurposed it for a sexy night in? How does that work? Do you get down on all fours—”
I covered my face with my hands and groaned. “Pleasestop.”
