Page 126 of The Pumpkin Bride

The sprite shrugged and spread his arms. “Can’t help you there, Red. The rhyme’s open to interpretation. Interpret it wrong, and I get to throw a curse your way, too. Something along the lines of what I dished out to your man Bram. For the fun of it, I could add a twist where he’s orc by day, human by night, and vice versa for you.”

“That’s diabolical.” She tucked the note back into her corselet. “I’m trying to undo a curse, not bargain with you.”

“I get it’s fierce unfair, but that’s the nature of the exchange. This here’s a magical pyramid scheme.”

“A what?” Marigold asked, baffled.

“Oh, Red, you need to get yourself out in the world a bit.” The sprite waved his hand. “But I want a cookie, so let’s have at it.”

She boosted her shoulders and mentally adjusted her crown. Listing Bram’s qualities was no challenge. It was a delight.

“My love for Sir Bram Duncan, also known as Jask Bone-breaker, is limitless. It’s impossible to sing all his praises before your season concludes, so I’ll summarize. From the moment he wakes, I am in his thoughts and he in mine. We are not a fabled couple full of sunshine and tranquility—we argue. We disagree. We debate. But we are rich in repair and always return to each other.”

“Is that the lot?” the sprite asked.

Marigold shook her head. She was cooking now. “My true love sees the whole of me, flaws included, and still cherishes me. He believes in me more than I do myself and cheers me on when I succeed, especially in those moments when I misperceive my achievements as obligations. I want to spend eternity in his company in whatever form we take. Whole, bruised, or broken, he is mine and I am his.”

The sprite fluttered in front of her like a hummingbird.

Below them the earth thundered. Through the branches she made out Bram’s shape carrying a lantern. His noise must have attracted the attention of the knights. “Marigold, stop! Come down from there!”

“It’s too late, Bram. I’ve already started.”

He sank to his knees. “I tried to save you from this fate.”

“Life with you is all I want,” she said. “This is how we achieve it.”

The sprite rolled his eyes. “The drama of the two of you. Red, you had me at ‘rich in repair.’ Well done. I’ll break the curse, on one condition.”

“What’s that?” she asked.

“Not for you—for himself. Hey, lad,” the sprite shouted to Bram. “This one’s a hoot. She’s mad about you. Do you believe you deserve her love?”

Please let him believe it.

Bram’s eyes gleamed on the orb glow. “Yes.”

“You’d better.” Marigold’s cheeks were wet with her own happy tears.

“That’s it, then.” The sprite rubbed his hands together, and glimmering gold sprinkled and swirled toward Bram. He fell to his knees, hidden from view.

“Bram!” She scrambled to descend.

“Which would you have him be? Bram or Jask? Hand on heart, I can’t tell if the human or the orc is the truer form. He’s found the advantage to both.”

“That’s not my decision.” She dropped to another branch, and ouch, shite, that scrape through her kirtle would need a bandage. “No matter his form or face, I’ll love him.”

“You hear that, lad?” the sprite shouted. “Pick which you want to be.”

The swirl intensified, raged, until it seemed to connect to the heavens. Then, with a snap of the sprite’s fingers, the gold shimmer disappeared. Marigold’s feet thumped against the gnarled roots of the Lantern Oak in front of her kneeling true love, but her heart thumped harder. Sir Bram Duncan was restored to his human self. Older, with a firmer jaw, laugh lines, and longer hair. The clothes she’d laundered sat loose on his body. He turned his unmistakable gold-flecked gleam to her.

He caught her hand. “Hi.”

“Hello,” she answered. “So you chose this version of you?”

“It’s the only way to see my mother’s eyes again, and my father’s face.” A dimple punched Bram’s cheek as he smiled at her. “Is this all right? You’ll still love me in this form?”

“In every form,” she said. “Always.”