“Are yousure?” Wilmaette’s gaze was piercing.
“Of course! I’m certain Emma will love it. I know her style.”
Wilmaette glanced at me, but I said, “I trust Odette. I’d rather be surprised. Have the seamstresses begin on the dress immediately.”
“Very well.” Wilmaette handed the design off to two seamstresses. They glanced at each other in shock, whispering under their breath as they glanced at the design.
Either I’d be wearing something incredible on my wedding day, or my dress would look like a total Odette-explosion, complete with ruffles, feathers, and gods-knew what else. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but at any rate, I knew whatever Odette created would be unforgettable.
Wilmaette kept me for a few hours more, prodding me about decorations and seating arrangements— which were hard to compile, because most fae, especially nobles, didn’t like each other.
At least we agreed on the flowers. I’d insisted upon white roses for everything, and Wilmaette had praised me, saying that was a very traditional choice.
Wilmaette didn’t let me go until it was nearly time for dinner. I was wiped out. My wedding was important, and planning it was fun, but to be honest, I only had so much energy to get me through the day.
“This wedding is getting out of hand,” I complained to my friends as we made our way to the dining hall.
“No monster could scare Wilmaette. She’d shame them to death about their scruffy appearance,” Kiara joked.
No doubt. I let out a great yawn, and Odette said, “Looks like you need a nap.”
“I’ve been training a lot lately. Magdalina has me working morning, noon, and night, and when I’m not practicing with her, I’m working with Lucien on Unseelie magic,” I said.
“Not to mention you have queenly duties as well,” Odette added.
It was all very overwhelming. I was tired.
“Have you made any progress on shadow manipulation?” Kiara asked.
I scowled. “No.” I didn’t want to talk about it, either.
“You haven’t even practiced shadow manipulation since you tried that one time with Lucien,” Delmare objected. “How do you know you can’t do it?”
“Because I just don’t want to, okay?” A tension headache was making its way across my head. I rubbed my temple, bothered.
“Emma, you need a break. You’re on the verge of burnout,” Kiara warned. “You keep pushing yourself like this, you won’t be able to do magic at all.”
I ignored Kiara, and took a turn for the stairwell. “I have to go to my quarters.”
“Emma, you can’t skip meals,” Kiara scolded.
“I’ll be down in a minute. I just have to wrap up a few things.”
I hurried away before they could object. Truth be told, I had no time to rest, even if it was to eat. There was magic to be done.
Eliska, one of my maids, was busy sprucing up our quarters. She curtsied to me before walking out, and I gave her a smile. I made sure the door was locked and she was gone before I entered my private study.
My office was protected with a ward that kept everyone but Ethan, my friends and I out. It was where my hearthfire on Earth was located, and where my most powerful magic could be crafted. Therefore, I couldn’t allow anyone to tamper with it.
On a wooden altar against the wall is where I kept most of my supplies. The altar was decorated with a statue of Milonna, a black candle, salt in a wooden bowl, a few crystals, and a Celtic knot talisman, as a reminder of my fae ancestors.
I used my hearthfire to craft spells that would be far more powerful than any I could create on my own. It was better to craft them in my true hearthfire cottage in Edinmyre, but I couldn’t often get away, and I needed something at hand I could use when I was in dire need of strong magic.
I lit the black candle, and the incense. I scattered the salt around me in a circle and took a deep breath, upturning my hands to the gods.
I hadn’t forgotten what Queen Antonia had done to my mother, nor would I. During one of our training sessions, Lord Lucien had taught me an Unseelie spell to bind the powers of weaker fae, to prevent them from harming others.
It was a risky spell, and took a lot of energy— not to mention it didn’t always work. The free will fae carried, and the will of the gods, sometimes rendered the spell useless. If someone I loved willingly chose to confront or involve themselves with Antonia, my binds on her would break, and she’d be as dangerous as ever. Most faecouldn’tbind other fae; it took an exceptionally talented sorceress to pull it off, and during my first few tries, it hadn’t been easy.
