Page 13 of A Spell of Heart & Havoc

I took another step up, towering over her now. She pressed back against the wall to avoid me, but didn’t break her furious stare. This close, I could feel the warmth of her silk-clad body. Smell the light, flowery scent of her hair. What was that, honeysuckle?

Before I could get in another retort, Dove scoffed and ducked around me to stride up the stairwell. Moving faster than I thought her short legs capable of, she raced ahead down the hall to her room. With one last flushed glare back at me, she entered and slammed the door shut. I knew without trying that it would be locked.

Heading into my own room, I knocked on the interior door that led to hers.

“Princess, don’t forget what your mummy said—we need to take care of this door.”

Through the wood, I heard footsteps approach. No answer.

“How will I save you if some dastardly villain breaks in through your bedroom window tonight?” I tried again, forcing some pleasant humor into my voice. She was going to open this damn door.

An exasperated laugh choked out from the other side. After a few long moments, the door clicked and slowly opened. Dove’s pinched face appeared.

“Give me your hand,” she said with a resigned air.

“What?”

“I need one of your hands to give you access. There’s a powerful security enchantment on it. Like the manor’s wards, but no one can get in here but me.”

Interesting… Zephyra will definitely appreciate knowing about this.

Pretending reluctance so that she wouldn’t see how eager I was to gain access to her wards, I tentatively placed my right hand into her outstretched palm. Yanking me forward, she slapped it on a large, engraved flower in the middle of the door—ouch—and put her hand firmly on top. It was smaller than mine, with neat nails and very soft skin. She probably moisturized with some obscenely expensive lotion made of ground up diamonds, imported honey, and the rarest dead beetles in all of Kurriel.

I focused on my scorn for the sparkling rings adorning Dove’s fingers rather than how smooth and warm her hand felt on top of mine. She closed her eyes and began to mutter—whether a spell or a curse, I didn’t know.

“What are you doing?” I whispered.

“Shut up,” she shot out of the corner of her mouth. “I need to focus.”

She kept muttering under her breath, and then we stood in silence for a long minute. Suddenly, I felt a strange tingling sensation on my palm. It spread to my fingers, and Dove’s hand kept me pinned against the wood as it left me and coursed over the breadth of the door.

“There,” she said, finally releasing me and stepping back. “Happy now? You can enter this door. For emergencies only.”

Shaking the phantom tingle out of my hand, I also stepped away, back into my own room. I was happy. I was very happy indeed. Zephyra would be pleased.

All in all, this had been a remarkably productive day.

6

DOVE

And with that finally done, I’ll take my leave,” Maerryl said. “Some of us haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

I felt a tiny twinge, but said, “That’s not my problem. You are, as you love to remind me, employed by my parents. Take your feeding schedule up with them.”

Maerryl chuckled. “Good night, princess. I hope your dreams are as sweet as the remnants of a carrion crawler’s bathwater!” And with another sarcastic bow and a smirk, she shut the door in my face.

I couldn’t help the gasp that left me. The cheek on this one!

So I guess she’d given up on the mild, subservient act, at least with me. I’d known from when we first spoke in the parlor that it was a facade. This woman didn’t have an ounce of meekness in her, no matter how well she pretended around my parents. In a way, it was satisfying, forcing her to let that fall away a bit and be her true self—biting, abrasive, headstrong.

Maerryl was a headache and still a problem I’d have to remove sooner or later. But at least she was interesting. I hadn’t realized how starved I’d become for entertainment in the past couple of years, living with my parents, my friendships and companions slipping silently away. Petra was sweet and dear, but when I tried bantering with her, it was like talking to a stone wall. A particularly solid one.

Speaking of Petra—where was that girl? She usually helped me undress after dinner, waiting for me by the fire with a pot of chamomile tea and some treat Choia had made that day. I looked forward to gossiping with her about the household and the way she carefully undid my hair and wrapped it up in a silk cloth for sleep.

Moving through my rooms, I flicked fingers at the magelights that glimmered in the corners, activating them to a soft glow that filled the space. Perched at my vanity, I began unclasping the gold trinkets from my hair and returning them to their little jade box. A gift from a lover years ago, they were a special treasure of mine, one that I only wore in full on special occasions when I wanted to feel particularly beautiful. Usually, I just tucked two or three around some front curls for a little sparkle. I didn’t know what had moved me to have Petra put them all in my hair tonight. Or wear this dress. As much as I hated to admit it, Mother hadn’t been wrong—my gown, with its flowing layers of the finest silk and a deep, plunging neckline, was far too decadent for a simple dinner at home.

Maerryl’s scowling face popped up in my mind, her eyes widening slightly when she first saw me in the hallway as we left our rooms.