Page 83 of The Prince and His Stolen Groom
“I have one question,” Kit said, raising her hand.
I looked at her sharply, hoping her question wasn’t about to disrupt the tentative truce.
“How did you find us here anyway?”
“Who, me?” Lucinda asked, pressing a hand gently to her chest as her eyes widened innocently.
“You did arrive with remarkable timing,” Brendon said.
“Well, when my honeybunny missed dinner, I went looking for him. I was headed to the castle—the most likely place to find an evil mage on the hunt,” she said, looking pointedly at her husband, “whenI heard the loveliest scream.” She beamed proudly at Franny. “Shrill and furious. It reminded me of the old days.”
Franny seemed flattered but also a little wary. “Do you mean your days as an apprentice?”
“Oh yes. Hags spend quite a lot of time screaming in the middle of abandoned places. We have the best Friday night get-togethers.”
“Speaking of apprentices,” Cyril piped up, looking at me hopefully. “Are you sure you won’t reconsider my offer? You have quite the knack for evil. You even kidnapped your husband! And the job isn’t as unsavory as propaganda would have you believe.”
Since his wife was still weighing him down, which hopefully meant he’d be more reluctant to conjure shadows and swords, I spoke honestly. “Sorry, but I’ll be quite occupied after the wedding.”
“If you change your mind.” He snapped his fingers and a business card appeared in his hand. He passed it to his wife, who stretched out her arm to hand it to me.
“He could use an assistant,” she whispered conspiratorially. “Perhapsthenhe would take an actual vacation.”
I took the card and slipped it into my pocket. I didn’t intend to accept the offer, but there was honesty and then there was full-on offending a Great and Terrible evil. “Uh, thanks.” I looked around at everyone and asked, “Have we cleared everything up? Is it alright if we call it a night?”
“Yes, of course!” Lucinda exclaimed, bouncing to her feet. “You should rest up for the big day.”
I had to open the door, then wait for everyone to file out to avoid accidentally locking anyone inside. Cyril and Lucinda lingered behind, cooing at each other, and then something caught her eye. “What’s this?” she asked, picking up a half-chewed book from the floor.
“Oh, you can just put that on the table,” I said. The tower would need to be cleaned later. Especially if Mother was still determined to tear it down …
Instead, she flipped it over to examine the cover. “Darling, look! It’s one of mine!”
“Oh, is it?” I asked, confused how someone else’s book ended up as collateral damage. “I’m sorry, I can replace it for you—”
“No, no, I wrote it, you see,” she said, flipping to the back. “Lucy Merriweather is my pen name.” She opened it to the last page and showed me a portrait of her, looking somehow younger and more mature than the woman in front of me.
Behind me, Franny gasped, and Kit exclaimed, “Wait,you’reLucy Merriweather?” They pushed past me back into the tower, which meant I couldn’t close the door yet.
The author sounded familiar, but Franny talked about so many, I had no idea which books she’d written.
“The Bride’s Revenge,” Brendon whispered into my ear.
“AndRavished at Midnight,” Franny added excitedly. “I’ve read all of your books!”
“Oh, how sweet! I never get to meet my fans.”
They all burst into excited chatter that hurt my ears. My arm strained from holding the door open and I looked to Brendon for assistance.
“Ladies, could we have this discussion as we walk back to the castle?” Brendon suggested.
The chatter moved out the door and I could finally close it. An indignant squeak made me pause, and I opened it again to allow the imp to toddle through. It flipped me off on the way out, then disappeared in a puff of purple smoke, which I guess it couldn’t do while inside the tower.
Good to know.
Brendon and I walked at the back of the group. Though Cyril wasn’t part of the conversation, he escorted his wife with an indulgent smile as she spoke with Franny and Kit.
“How did you go from a hag’s apprentice to a best-selling author?” Franny asked.
