“This was from the morning before you brought us here. I had just pulled homemade cinnamon rolls out of the oven, and there was this incredible cool breeze coming through the windows. I took an instant photo but couldn’t help grabbing one on my phone too.”
“That is where you live?” She moves closer, grabbing the phone and squinting at the screen, no doubt taking in every whimsical detail of the home we createdtogether.
“Cute, huh? And it hardly ever leaks when it rains anymore, which is a definite plus,” I ramble before flipping to thenext shot.
Ah, this one isnice too.
Moth and I are piled on the loveseat. He’s reading Jane Austen, and I’m sipping a cup of homemade hot chocolate, overflowing with marshmallows. My legs are draped over top of his—it’s sweet and intimate, and the only way the two of us fit on that piece of furniture together. My blue tinsel Christmas tree shines in the background. Moth called it an “insult to the woods,” as if he hadn’t admired the lights all season long.
Whether or not he likes to admit it, he has a thing for sparkly things, which is probably why heloves me.
“He is so…”
Happy.
Relaxed
In love.
“…cramped.” Holly grimaces. Wow,not the adjective I expected. “I found you both not a momenttoo soon.”
Yikes.Sure, it’s not a big house. But it’s packed with love, and in my humble option, we do just fine in it.
These photos are some of my favorite glimpses into our life together. When I look at them, I’m filled to the brim with warmth.
“We don’t need much space,” I murmur, trying to sort out mythoughts.
“Youmay not, but he is—”
“A prince.” I cut in. As if she’d ever letme forget.
“I was going to say 7 feet tall—with a wingspan that appears to be wider than your entirekitchen.”
Well, I can’t arguewith that.
She flicks through a few more pictures, her thumb sliding so quickly I barely register the blurred pixels as images. In seconds, she’s blasted through the entire curated gallery with little commentary. These pictures are just for me—I didn’t take them for anyone’s approval, but I feel like I just got 0 likes on anew post.
“This is what you spend your time doing?” Holly asks. Wow, with the way she looks down at me from the end of her nose, I have a strong feeling she doesn’t approve of or even like whatshe sees.
“I mean, some of it?” I manage, ignoring the stab of anxiety.
“Tomorrow I’ll teach you how to use a sword,” Holly says, leaving no room forargument.
“I’m not really a weapons kindof girly.”
“You will learn.”
I guess that settles that. Breathing out a heavy sigh, I search my mind for something—anything—to talk about.
“There’s a portrait being done of Moth today, right?”
“Yes. Mother mentioned you expressed an interest in watching.” She sighs. “I came to collect you, so that we could head to the throne roomtogether.”
“Aw!” I cheer, as if she didn’t fully insult my home and my hobbies. “That’sso nice.”
Holly stiffens as though I’ve horribly insulted her. She stands, practically marching out ofthe room.
“Hey! Wait up!” I chase the angry fae out into thehallway.
