by Lish McBride
Merit leaned down and kissed his cheek. “You have made this mess, and now you must deal with it, but I think in the end, you’re going to be okay.”
Another head shake. “After all we did to you, you’re reassuring me?” He gave her a weak smile. “You’re too good for all of us, milady.” He rested his head against the balcony wall. “I owe you. I will die in your debt, that’s how much. Name it, and it’s yours if I can give it.”
She glanced at Tevin, and though he wasn’t looking at her, he squeezed her hand. “I’ll need to think about it. Let the problem rest for a while. I’ll make my demands when I’m ready.”
“As you see fit, milady.”
Merit straightened. “In the meantime, I’d like to borrow your lands, your feast, and your priest, not necessarily in that order.”
He pulled his large frame up from the ground, taking the bottle with him. “I will see it done. My home is yours.” And then he walked off deeper into the castle.
* * *
• • •
Ellery found the priest. They had to hold him up during part of the ceremony, as he’d holed up in the king’s study and steadied his nerves with several glasses of brandy. Some of the words he said didn’t make any sense, but the gist of the ceremony was there. The groom looked a mess, and the bride had no shoes, but they beamed with happiness, and everyone agreed it was the most beautiful wedding they had ever seen. Merit’s mother, Ellery, and Kaiya stood on her side; Amaury and Val stood on his. When they couldn’t decide where the rest of the friends should go, they made a half circle around them both, Hob lying down in the middle of it and making a general nuisance of himself. The musicians played well into the night; food and joy and laughter were shared by everyone.
Even Lady Zarla looked happy, hugging and kissing her daughter on the cheek at every opportunity.
Merit held on to Tevin’s hand firmly. “You’re really not angry?”
Lady Zarla stepped back, her hands still on Merit’s shoulders. “Today has me rethinking my approach. Clearly blood isn’t the only factor I should have looked for.” She studied Merit’s face. “Are you happy?”
Merit practically glowed. “So happy.”
“Then that’s all that matters.” She eyed Tevin. “Babies. I want lots of babies.”
Merit and Tevin choked.
When it looked like Merit’s mother was going to settle in for a longer discussion of this, Glendon, may the fairies bless him, wrapped an arm around her. “Lady Zarla, have I mentioned that my daughter was recently married?” He drew her away from the newlyweds, winking at them as he did. “I’m told she’s already expecting. Twins.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. Of course it’s a pity they have no grandmother to spoil them.”
Lady Zarla looked up at him. “Is that so?”
He nodded. “A shame, really.”
Lady Zarla didn’t dip her chin, or blush, or look coy in any way. Instead, she looked him straight in the eye. “I would love to hear more about your family. Shall we dance?”
Glendon bowed over her hand. “Nothing would please me more.”
Tevin pressed a kiss to Merit’s temple.
“Thank the fairies for that,” she said.
He nodded. “May his daughter be blessed with many children so your mother will leave us alone.”
Merit snorted. “They won’t distract her forever. I give her a year.” She tipped her face to his. “What about your mother?”
“She gets no say. She’ll be lucky if we let her visit. And if she does, you’ll need to hide the silver.”
* * *
• • •
As the night wore on, Tevin bowed to Val, asking her to dance. The fiddles played a bouncy tune, one that he knew Val would enjoy.
“You seem happy,” she said as Tevin twirled her around.
“I am.” He pulled her close. “Thank you for this. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.”
Val hit his shoulder. “Don’t get all sappy on me now, Tev.”
“Just giving credit where it’s owed,” he said with a grin. He leaned in close. “And now it’s your turn.” Then he spun her around, directly into a surprised Kaiya.
“Kaiya, would you mind taking a turn with Val? I have a wife to find.” He didn’t wait for an answer but left the two of them to figure things out while he went in search of Merit.
He found her chatting happily with Willa and Diadora. “What happened to Cedric?”
Diadora pointed across the dancing circle, where Merit caught sight of Amaury, his arm slung around the ostrich’s neck. The large bird was definitely weaving. Hob sat next to them. Someone had made him a paper crown, and it rested crookedly on his head.
“Did he get the ostrich drunk?” Merit asked.
“Of course he did.” Tevin cocked his head while he watched his brother laugh, lean across the back of the giant bird, and steal someone’s drink. “You know they’re going to follow us home, right?”
“He’s grown on me.” Merit put an arm around Tevin simply because she could. “Do you think Hob will go back to the forest?”
“He seems disinclined,” Tevin said, his arm wrapping around her shoulder. “I owe my sister a present, though. She always wanted a kitten.”
“You’re evil,” Merit said. “I like it.”
“He’s going to make Cedric sick.” Diadora stood, shaking her head. “I better go keep an eye on them.” Willa sighed and went with her.
Merit touched Tevin’s chin with her fingertips. “May I steal the next dance?”
He led her closer to the fire, the music slowing as he pulled her close, her arms going around his neck. “You don’t have to steal it. All of my dances are yours.”
“I’ll try to not stomp on your feet.”
He slid his hands down, grabbing her waist. “If you do, I know an excellent dance instructor.” He twirled her out, then pulled her back close, like he couldn’t stand even an inch between them. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.” Merit curled her fingers around the hair at the nape of his neck, letting it filter through her fingers.
“You miss your tail, don’t you?” he asked.
Merit thought for a minute, letting him guide her around the makeshift dance floor. “You know, I kind of do?” She sighed. “I keep trying to grab things with it, only nothing happens. It’s going to take some getting used to. At least things will go back to normal now.”
He let go of her waist, drawing his hands up until he cupped her face. Couples continued to dance and eddy around them, as if they were a boulder in a river—timeless, steady, and unmovable. “You gave up normal when you married me,” Tevin said. “Marriage to a DuMont—it’s a curse, but you’ll never be bored.”
Merit gave him a lopsided grin, the one that made his chest tight. “That’s the funny thing about curses,” she said. “From the right perspective, they look an awful lot like gifts.”
“I think you’ve had too much champagne,” Tevin said. “It’s made you giddy.”
“I think I’ve had just the right amount,” Merit said, standing up on her toes. She grabbed his face. “I love you, Tevin DuMont.”
“Way too much champagne,” Tevin said. And then he kissed her, pouring into it all the things that people say but are hard to believe. Telling her that she was his home, his heart, and all the things that go into forever.
And she kissed him back, for once in complete agreement.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Not to start with a pun, but this book was a beast to write. A big thanks to all of the people who helped me shove it into a ball gown and teach it to waltz. First to my agent, Jason Anthony, and the team at Massie & McQuilkin, for sticking with me through this whole process—I owe you a dapper ostrich. Lots of love to Jill and Sylvia at WME for all of their hard w
ork over the years—you have been the best fairy gift (with zero side effects). To Ari Lewin for taking a chance on a charming con man and an awkward beast. And of course, to the entire team at Putnam for putting this beauty together. (Okay, the puns stop . . . now.)
To all of my author friends, beta readers, and cheer section who helped me stick with it: Martha Brockenbrough, Jolie Stekly, Leigh Bardugo, Gretchen McNeil, Jessica Brody, Melissa Marr, Marissa Meyer, Niki Marion, Kendare Blake, Andi Tosch, Mel Barnes, Anna Eklund, Anna Banks, S. A. Patel, Jennifer Wolfe, Avery Peregrine, Ryfie Schafer, everyone in my Third Place Books writing group, Will Ritter, Kat Santoro, Vlad Verano, Sarah Hull, Brenda Winter Hansen, and Colleen Conway Ramos. Big thanks to Molly Harper and Jeanette Batista for help with the Enchanted Forest, care packages, and general support (and to J for reading this book eight times), as well as to Olivia Waite for the carnival scene—fladgers for all. So many people were here for me during this process—I hope I didn’t forget anyone. (If I did, please know that it’s not that I’m ungrateful, but this book took forever to write, and I have a poor memory for anything besides movie quotes.)
Of course, huge thanks and all of my love to my friends and family, who put up with a lot. Most of all to every bookseller, librarian, book blogger, and reader who has supported my silly books and waited patiently for this one, thank you to the end and back.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Lish McBride is the author of funny and creepy young adult books such as Hold Me Closer, Necromancer; Necromancing the Stone; Firebug; and Pyromantic. She has published short stories on Tor.com, and the anthologies Cornered, What to Read in the Rain, and Kisses & Curses. Her first book, Hold Me Closer, Necromancer, was an ALA Best Book for Young Adults title, Morris Award finalist, and won the Scandiuzzi Children's Book Award. Lish is a former indie bookseller, has a MFA from University of New Orleans, and prefers pie to cake. While she has no long term goals for world domination, she would like her own castle.
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