“That sounds wonderful. We’ll do the cake exactly like that, then. Now, as far as the design goes, I know you weren’t completely happy about the sketches my artist sent over—”
“About that.” I pulled Matilda’s drawing from my purse. “This is how I’d like the cake to look.”
Julianne took the drawing and studied it. Slowly, she smiled. “This is lovely. Extravagant, but still royal. We can certainly replicate this. May I ask…is this your design?”
“Oh, no, that was done by one of the citizens of the realm. A young girl named Matilda. I’d very much like it if you could include her somehow in the decorating? She wants to be a baker when she grows up, and I think, based on this design, that she could be one of the great ones. Maybe even work here someday.”
Julianne nodded. “We do love to encourage new talent. Especially in the little ones.”
“I’ll have the palace steward send her information to you, then. And thank you again for today.” I stood. “We’ll be in touch.”
Sin and Birdie said their goodbyes, then we left. The moment we got out to the crawler and shut the doors, I turned toward Sin. “Okay, explain. What’s going on with your parents?”
He sighed in a way that didn’t fill me with good feelings. “My parents are… That is…” He sighed again and shifted in his seat.
“Do you not want me to meet them?”
He frowned. “Is that an option?”
I stared at him. I was starting to get truly freaked out. “Is there something wrong with me? Do you think they won’t like me? Do they have something against royals? What are you afraid of?”
“Jayne, you’re the most perfect woman I’ve ever met. What I’m afraid of is that you’ll meet my parents and…” He took a moment. The muscles in his jaw twitched. “You won’t want to marry me. And that your parents will agree with you.”
My jaw fell open. “Why on earth would you think that?”
“I am a necromancer.”
“I know.” But clearly, there was something I didn’t. “What does that have to do with your parents?”
He spoke softly and with great reluctance. “Do you know what it takes for a necromancer to be created? How someone with my abilities is created?”
I shook my head.
“I do,” Birdie said.
Of course she did.
I glanced at her.
She shrugged. “You pick up a lot of interesting things in my line of work.”
“Obviously,” I said. “So what does it take?”
With the most innocent expression I’d ever seen, she said, “Well, either both his parents are necromancers…”
I glanced at Sin. “Are they?”
Sin shook his head. “They aren’t.”
I shot Birdie a look.
She made a little face that was in between sympathy and curiosity. “Then I’m pretty sure it requires one of his parents to be a zombie.”
The loudest silence I’d ever heard filled the crawler. While it deafened me, I realized the name of Sin’s doughnut shop—Zombie Donuts—not only made sense, but it was actually a sweet tribute to one of his parents.
Then Sinclair let out the most heart-wrenching groan. “I really screwed up.”
A sudden burst of anxiety made me chew my lip. He was hurting, and I was hurting for him. I grabbed his arm, needing to connect with him. “No, you didn’t. This is all fixable. But does that mean Birdie’s right?”
He nodded, but his eyes were squeezed tight, and he was grimacing. “Yes.”
“Which one of your parents is it?”
“My mother.”
“Your mother is a zombie.” I took my hand back as I tried to process that. The images that filled my head weren’t great. But there was no closing this door now. With a gentle tone that I hoped was also filled with understanding, I ventured forth. “How…much of a zombie is she?”
His frown deepened. “You mean is she rotting away, or just slightly moldy?”
Yikes. “I wasn’t—”
He put his hands up to stop me, his frown softening slightly. “You were, and that’s okay. It’s what everyone wants to know. I didn’t mean to respond so sharply. It’s just that…”
“She’s your mom. Of course you’re going to defend her. You wouldn’t be the man I love if you didn’t.”
“Thanks.” He took a breath, but it didn’t seem to help. I’d never seen him look so deflated.
“What about your dad? He’s not a zombie, then?”
“No. He’s a conjurer. They’ve got a show in Vegas at the Oasis Resort. My mother is his assistant. It’s quite an act. They’ve been headlining for years. Maybe you’ve heard of it. Dead Sexy.” A strangled half sob, half laugh came out of Sin.
“Is that why you suggested we elope to Vegas? So I could meet them?”
“No. Just coincidence.”
I grabbed his hand, still hurting for him. He was obviously very worried about all of this. “Hey, I don’t care who or what your parents are, as long as they’re decent people, which they have to be to have raised a son like you. Nothing is going to change how I feel about you. Nothing. We’re getting married. That’s definitely happening. Do you hear me?”
He nodded, still clearly unconvinced.
“Sin, I mean it.”
“I know you do, and that’s sweet, but I bet there are things going through your head right now that you don’t even want to put into words.”
“No, there aren’t.” There totally were. Like the images that had first come to me when he’d confirmed the zombie business. And what his gene pool meant for our future.
“Oh, really?” His gaze held a challenge. “So you’re not wondering if one of our children could be a zombie?”
He’d read my mind. I gulped down my next breath, choking on it a little. “Is that…a possibility?”
He shook his head. “No. They’ll be winter elf or some kind of magic-wielder or a mix of those two. There’s always a slight chance one could be a necromancer, I suppose. But zombies are made, not born.”
I sighed in relief before realizing what I’d done.
His frown returned instantly. “This is my fault. I should have told you sooner. I know that. I just couldn’t.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not.” He started the crawler. “If you want to break things off, I understand. And I’m very sorry.”
“Sin, stop it.” I put my hand on the wheel so he couldn’t drive yet. “This changes nothing. Yes, you should have told me sooner, but why does it matter who your mother is? What on earth does that have to do with my love for you?”
He kept the crawler in park and turned toward me. “Jayne, there were people in this town who didn’t think you should be involved with me because I’m a necromancer. Do you think the news about my mother is going to be met with open arms?”
“Those people were a minority. And one of them is under house arrest for the remainder of his life.” Frankly, I was a little worked up. Maybe even borderline mad. “Now listen to me, Sinclair Crowe. Invite your parents up here immediately. I need to meet them. And they need to meet me. And my parents. Do you hear me? We’re getting married, and we’re not doing it without them.”
He was still frowning, but the look in his eyes told me he was coming around. “You’re opening a can of worms.”
Birdie snorted, then stifled herself. “Whoops. Sorry. I thought that was a zombie joke.”
Suddenly, I snorted too. It was funny. Sin looked like he was struggling to hold on to his frown.
Then his frown disappeared, and we were all laughing so hard we were crying.
At last, Sin took a big shuddering breath and shook his head. “I messed up.”
“Yeah, you did. But who hasn’t? And this is really fixable. We just need to meet each other.” I smiled at him. I loved him so much. Nothing was going to change that. “Do they know you’re getting married? Have you told them about me?”
“I have. They really w
ant to meet you. But they also understand that they might not be every bride’s dream in-laws.”
“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry you’ve been carrying this around. But you should know me well enough to know that my love for you isn’t conditional.”
“I do know that.” He took my hand and kissed my knuckles. “But you’re also the heir to the Winter Throne. And after what we went through with Gregory…” He shrugged. “I let all of that get to me.”
“I understand.” Gregory, the former palace steward, had done his best to end Sinclair’s chances with me. And my chances with the throne. “But no more, okay? I want to meet them. And they deserve to be a part of our lives. And part of our special day.”
He kissed my hand again. “Thank you for being so understanding. I’ll call them as soon as we get back to the palace.” His eyes narrowed. “I can call them, can’t I?”
“I’m not sure. We might have to talk to Ingvar about a special NP-to-Vegas connection. But we’ll figure it out. Let’s head home now. LeRoy’s shop won’t be open for another hour anyway.”
When we returned to the palace, Birdie went to her apartment to add the cake selections to the wedding binder. Sin and I went to my dad’s office to fill him in on Sin’s parents. And as it turned out, Ingvar had already installed a landline that could reach numbers outside of the NP. Conveniently, that phone was on my dad’s desk. There was also one in my uncle’s office, but there was no point in going to the factory.
My dad and I left Sin alone to make the call. I figured he could use the privacy. Making a call like that with an audience, especially your future father-in-law, wouldn’t be easy.
Besides, Mrs. Greenbaum had a fresh batch of lingonberry scones sitting on the filing cabinet. My dad and I each took one. How I had the room after breakfast and cake was proof of the sheer strength of the winter elf metabolism.
My dad didn’t bite into his right away. “You know there could be some pushback about his mother.”
“I know. I’m really hoping there’s not, but I’m also not a complete Pollyanna. It wasn’t that long ago a minority got worked up about me marrying a necromancer.” I nibbled on the end of the scone.
Mrs. Greenbaum tsked. “People love to complain about anything just to hear the sound of their own voices. You ignore that. And those of us who truly love you will only care that you’re happy.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Greenbaum. But it’s hard to ignore some of those complaints when you’re the next-in-line ruler of those people.”
“I’m sure it is, but you can’t let those small minds interrupt your happiness or dictate how you live your life.”
My dad nodded. “She’s not wrong.”
I wiped a crumb off my face. “No, she’s not.” I looked at her. “My future mother-in-law is a zombie.”
Her eyes widened ever so slightly. “Oh?” She was silent for a moment, then she pursed her lips. “I don’t see what it matters as long as she’s a good, respectable person. For the record, there are already zombies living here, but their dead bits are all on the inside.”
A slow smile turned up the corners of my mouth. “You’re a gem, Mrs. Greenbaum. Thank you for that.”
“You’re welcome, Your Highness.”
Sin opened the door of my dad’s office. The phone was still to his ear. “Jack, can you give me the coordinates for the palace?”
“Sure. I’ll jot them down for you.” He went into the office with Sin.
While they were in there, the outer office door opened, and Ezreal came in. “There you are, Princess. The constable’s looking for you. The ME has finished his preliminary report.”
“Great, thank you.” A little tingle of excitement rippled through me. “Does she want us to come by the station, or did she send the info here?”
“She wants you to come by.” He nodded a quick greeting to Mrs. Greenbaum before speaking to me again. “And since we’re talking about that case, I have to tell you I haven’t uncovered any missing person that fits the timeline.”
“That’s okay. I appreciate you looking. Can you ring Constable Larsen back and tell her we’ll be by in half an hour?”
“Will do.”
“Thank you.”
Sin and my dad came out of the office as Ezreal was leaving. Sin gave me a tentative smile. “Well, it’s all set.”
“They’re coming?”
He nodded, still looking as if there was more to say but not saying it.
“When?”
“They’ll be here…tonight.”
“Wow.” I hadn’t expected them so soon. “Getting a flight on such short notice had to be awfully expensive.”
Sin stuck his hands in his pockets. “My father’s a conjurer. No flight required. All he needed were the coordinates for the palace. He’ll work up a spell to transport them. And since the show is off for the next three weeks, the timing is perfect.”
I blew out a breath. “And just like that, I’m nervous.”
My father’s brows lifted. “Was that Ezreal leaving? We’d better get him back. There’s a lot to do. Including telling your mother. Mrs. Greenbaum—”
“Calling Her Grace right now.”
“Very good.” My father leaned in and kissed my cheek. “Your mom and Ezreal will handle everything. Now, I must get back to work.”
“Us too,” I answered. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Yes,” Sin said. “Thank you for the use of your phone.”
“Of course. We’ll get another installed so you can reach out to your folks whenever you like. In the library, maybe. Or your new apartment, since you’ll want to keep in touch with your parents.”
“That would be great,” Sin said.
“It would be.” I hadn’t even thought about our new apartment lately, but then, it was a long way from being ready to move into.
“We’ll add it to the punch list. See you later.” My dad disappeared into his office, and Mrs. Greenbaum was already busy talking to my mom.
I gave her a little wave goodbye, then grabbed Sin’s hand and led him out to the hall.
He closed the door behind us. “You’re sure you’re good with this?”
“Putting a phone in our apartment?”
He gave me a look. “You know what I mean. Meeting my parents.”
I smiled at Sin. “I’m genuinely looking forward to it. I really am. I promise. But in the meantime, we have a date with the constable. We need to grab Birdie and get moving.”
“Larsen has new information?”
“That’s the message she gave to Ezreal.”
“Good. Because I’d love to get this skeleton business wrapped up before my parents arrive.”
“Oh?” I glanced at him as we walked toward the apartments. “Afraid your parents will think the NP is rife with crime and murder?”
He shook his head, not looking as amused as I thought he’d be. “Something like that.”
That’s when I realized that, despite all of my reassurances, he was still far more nervous about his parents coming to visit than I was.
The constable waited until we were all seated and the door was closed. She cleared her throat as if about to announce something of great importance. Then she opened the file in front of her. “According to his report, the ME didn’t discover much more, but he was able to determine that the female victim was in her late twenties and was definitely an elf.”
Birdie made a little noise of disbelief. “Then why is there no missing-person report that matches up?”
The answer hit me so hard and fast, I gasped. “Birdie. We know who she is.”
Sin looked at me. “You do?”
The constable frowned. “You mean you think you know.”
“Right. I can’t be sure, of course, until we get some kind of DNA match, but everything in me says it’s Rachel Brightmoore. George Bitterbark’s ex-fiancée.”
Birdie slapped the constable’s desk, making her jump. “Of course!”
“Listen here,” Larsen growled. “The super
intendent isn’t engaged.”
“But he was,” I said. “Long before he became superintendent. And the woman he was engaged to fits the description. Female, elf—summer not winter, but still elf—about that age, I’d imagine, and she just disappeared on him. Plus, this all happened long enough ago to work with the timeline.”
Sin nodded. “You’re right. It all works. Do you think George killed her?”
“That part I don’t know.” I wondered if I should mention Finnoula’s comment about Rachel being dead to her, but decided against it. “I wouldn’t think he’s the murderer, but he did stop the hangar tours around that time, and we don’t know why. Of course, his hiding a body in the carriage could be the answer.”
The constable scribbled something in her notes. “Rachel Brightmoore, you said?”
“Yes.” I pressed my hand to my forehead. “If George was really as distraught as his mother says he was, maybe it wasn’t murder at all, but a terrible, terrible accident. Maybe they had an argument, and something went dreadfully wrong. That could explain a lot. Like how she seemingly disappeared and how George’s mood became so dark. Can you imagine if you accidentally killed the person you’d planned to spend the rest of your life with?”
The constable looked up from what she’d been writing. “Could be. I don’t know. But we’re going to bring him in for questioning. Right now, however, we’re about to question another suspect.”
“Who?” I asked.
“LeRoy Bonfitte. I’ve already sent deputies to bring him in and search his premises.”
“What? Why?” But I knew the answers to those questions. My head went light and my stomach queasy. I opened my mouth and took deeper breaths in an attempt to keep myself upright.
Birdie put her hand on my shoulder. “Jayne, honey, you don’t look so good.”
“I don’t feel so good,” I whispered. “It can’t be LeRoy.”
Larsen looked sympathetic. “I’m sorry, but what little evidence we have points to him more than George. The scrap of fabric that we know Bonfitte had access to and the stab marks consistent with scissors. It’s a long shot, but if we can find the scissors that match the marks on the bones, he’s as good as charged.”
Miss Frost Says I Do Page 11
