Stannog unscrews the cap of his flask, slipping another dose into his tea while Bannog’s back is turned. “I can see you, Stan,” Bannog utters, and Stannog gives up on his tea, deciding to drink straight from the flask.
Bannog finally grabs a box, placing it down onto the table as he peers at Ivy. “Well, come along, dear.”
She hesitates, turning to me for guidance.
The kind ogre laughs. “It’s safe, dear. I promise.”
Making up her mind, she steps towards the box, peeking inside. I move closer to investigate myself.
“It’s empty,” I note, hoping that this isn’t some cruel trick.
Bannog snorts, “Not quite, my friend. It onlyappearsempty.”
Slipping his hands into the box, he lifts a panel of translucent gossamer, and that’s when I finally see the glamour.
It’s woven into the thread, strings of sparkling, iridescent magic, and I reach across, running my gloved finger along the fabric. “How?”
The ogre gives a furtive glance. “A tailor never reveals his secrets…”
Well, I guess that settles that.
Now I wonder about my own glamour. Will it be just as translucent?
“I… don’t see anything,” Ivy announces, and I turn her way, surprised.
It seems humans are unable to see the magic. What a shame. Sometimes, I wish Ivy could see the world the way I do.
Bannog sighs. “It’s okay, dear. Most mortals are blind to Fae magic.”
She dips her head, and I can’t bear to see the forlorn expression on her face. If anyone in this room deserves to see the magic, then it’s Ivy.
Bannog hands me the gossamer, a small smirk playing across his lips. “Here, take her to the master bedroom upstairs. See how it fits.” The ogre winks at me. “You can thank me later.”
I ignore his asinine remark, gritting my teeth. “How much?”
He smiles. “No price.”
I narrow my eyes, wondering where the catch is. “Come again?”
Bannog rolls his eyes.“It’s on the house, you silly fool. My only concern is getting the princess home in one piece.”
Stannog snorts behind him. “Ye could always offer him work at the shop. Let him serve some customers.”
I shiver at the unpleasant memory. Stannog always made me serve his worst punters at the bar, telling me to smile the whole time, even when they were belligerent and rude. He knew I lacked the required social skills to succeed in such a role, hence why he tortured me.
Bannog shakes his head. “There is no need, cousin. It’s merely a gift for Her Majesty.”
Ivy blushes at the grand title, twirling a piece of her blonde hair. “Thank you for your generosity, kind sir.”
“There is no need to thank me, lovely. Now go on, off you go, the pair of you.”
We take our leave, and just as he shuts the door behind us, we hear Stannog telling him, “That glamour ain’t gonna work, cuz. Any idiot witheyes could see that she isn’t Fae.”
Bannog huffs, “Oh, shush. You’re just jealous because you have no talent.”
“Pah!Tell that to all the happy punters who come to me bar!”
“Happypunters? I think you need to repeat that word, Stan, butslowlythis time...”
