Unsuspecting Trouble (The Inscrutable Paris Beaufont Book 3)

by Sarah Noffke

  “I was thinking of investigating the Bewilder Forest tonight,” he suggested.

  Paris planted her hands on her hips. “The Bewilder Forest is off-limits at night.”

  “Exactly,” he countered.

  “What if you get hurt again or in trouble like you did in the Serenity Garden?” Paris argued.

  He mirrored her stance. “What if I find something that makes it worth it?”

  Paris sighed. “Fine. If you need help, don’t call my mobile.”

  “Like I have a phone to call you, or that anything will work in the Bewilder Forest,” he said with a dramatic sigh. “Have you read the interference coming off that place? No devices can work anywhere near it.”

  “Surprisingly, I haven’t reviewed the readings or done anything to do with that place since I’ve been trying to track down who I am and why I’m being hunted,” she joked.

  He glanced back out the window. “Sounds fascinating…” Faraday didn’t at all sound interested as he glared out the window in the direction of the thick and foreboding set of trees that lined the mysterious Bewilder Forest.

  Paris shook her head and made for the door. “Try to stay out of trouble, will you? I don’t want to have to bail your tail out of a mess again. You nearly got me kicked out of here.”

  “Sure thing,” he sang as she opened the door. “Also, Paris…”

  “Yeah?” Paris ducked back into her room.

  “If anyone needs to stay out of trouble, it’s the hunted girl with two parents living in alternate dimensions, so be careful,” he stated. “Call me if you need me.”

  She chuckled. “I would if you had a phone and I had your number, and oh, you weren’t a squirrel.”

  “All small details, I assure you.”

  Paris nodded. “Somehow, I doubt that, weirdo. Have a good day.”

  “Have a good day, crazy-o,” Faraday replied as she pulled the door shut.

  Paris giggled, enjoying her banter with the squirrel more than she thought she should as she set off for breakfast.

  Chapter Three

  “Did you hear what happened to Paris?” Christine asked loudly across the breakfast table.

  Paris lowered her fork and gave her friends an exasperated look. “I’m right here…”

  “Well, then, you’re in the best position to fill in the details,” Christine said with a dry smile.

  Chef Ash, Hemingway, and Penny laughed.

  “My life is funny now, is it?” Paris pretended to be offended and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “As if,” Christine replied. “Your life is the coolest of the cool. You’re born to magician parents because you’re a wish from a genie, and they’re stuck in another dimension because they were trying to protect you. That’s, like, the coolest thing ever.”

  Paris lowered her chin. “Here I thought my secrets were safe with you, Christina.”

  “If you would ever call me by my real name, they would be.” She sighed.

  “Would they?” Paris asked.

  Christine shook her head. “No, probably not at all. Sorry.”

  Everyone at the table laughed, including Paris. That’s what she needed right then, amid the craziness that was her life—her friends, even if she didn’t know them well. Even if she didn’t trust them. They were all she had, and they were enough.

  That was one of the main reasons that Paris had confided in Christine, Penny Pullman, Chef Ash, and Hemingway about the most recent developments that were her life. She was still processing it all, trying to understand if the meeting with Father Time was real or part of her imagination. The things he’d told her…well, she only truly believed them when she spoke them aloud to her friends, explaining how her parents had gotten trapped protecting her from an entity that had sought her out for her uniqueness all so he could steal her life force.

  The reactions on their faces when she disclosed her story made her feel less crazy. For all Christine’s usual lightness, she’d been deadly serious after learning the truth, in awe of the story that felt so strange it must belong to someone else.

  Surprisingly, Penny broke the silence first. “Opening a vortex won’t be easy, but it can be done,” she said at once, then chewed on her lip.

  “My concern would be more about the deadly darkness thing.” Christine shivered. “Like, how are you going to kill that thing?”

  “There has to be a way,” Penny mused, continuing to look off in thought as though she was piecing something together.

  Paris watched her, curious what she had to be thinking. Chef Ash pulled them both from their reverie.

  “I don’t know about you all, but this whole thing gives me an idea for a new ravioli.” He pulled the pencil from behind his ear and sketched something on a paper napkin.

  Hemingway shook his head with a sideways grin. “No, it’s definitely you, mate. Hearing that Paris is in mortal danger and has to face a deadly villain to recover her parents doesn’t make me think about a new pasta recipe.”

  Chef Ash looked up in thought, his eyes far away. “Like, it could be rainbow-colored on the outside, but when you cut into it, the filling has a spiral effect maybe…”

  Paris shook her head. “I’m glad the whole thing inspires you. If you figure out how to kill a deadly nonbeing of sorts, jot that down too.”

  Chef Ash nodded, continuing to write notes as if he was listening to her, but she figured he was off in thought about roasted asparagus and mixed cheeses and other things he could use to fill pasta.

  “You know, you’re not alone in this.” Hemingway slid his hand across the table in Paris’ direction, stopping it a few inches from her.

  She looked at him, not knowing what to say. Paris felt alone. How could she not? Her fate, whether she was planning to bring her parents back or not, was tied to that of an evil being who was no longer human. No matter what, the Deathly Shadow would come for her.

  The only way to escape him was to stay inside Happily Ever After College, and that wasn’t an option. That was running. Hiding. Leaving behind any semblance of a life. She’d never see Uncle John or the family that she’d never known if she did that. She’d never complete her training with the fairy godmothers. She’d never live. So there was only one option. Face an evil that sounded strong enough to swallow the world whole. That was what Paris had to do, but how? That was yet to be determined.

  With uncertainty, Paris glanced around the table at her friends.

  “I think the important thing to remember is that we’ll help you,” Christine said, sounding uncharacteristically unlike herself.

  “For sure.” Chef Ash surfaced from his sketch.

  “Without a doubt,” Penny echoed.

  Hemingway simply looked at Paris, and she knew that he was in too. He was always in if it meant helping her. She knew that on a deeper level. She had friends who were sticking by her side even when she was up against the worst. That meant the world to her because unfortunately, she was up against the very worst.

  Chapter Four

  Holding up a hardback of The Princess Bride, Headmistress Willow Starr smiled at the class. “To help us better understand the art of love, you all were asked to read this novel and watch the movie version of it.”

  “Who hasn’t watched the movie?” Becky Montgomery remarked from the back of their Art of Love class.

  “Me,” Paris replied at once, holding up her hand and glancing over her shoulder at the snob perched on the edge of her seat.

  “What, were you raised in a hole?” Becky pursed her lips at Paris.

  “Roya Lane actually,” Paris retorted. “Some of us didn’t bore ourselves with Disney princess movies when there were better things to be doing.”

  “Roya Lane is a retail area, not a place where people live,” Becky commented. “And learning etiquette from a Disney princess might have done you good. Then at least you’d know that your hair is a mess.”

  Paris ruffled up the hair on the crown of her head, making it look more disheveled. “Oh
, you don’t like my ’do? I was going to offer to do your hair. Too bad.”

  “You don’t do anything to your hair,” Becky spat. “Do you even brush it?”

  “No, which was why I had loads of time to both read and watch The Princess Bride.” Paris tapped the book sitting on her desk.

  “Very good,” Willow said in her polite tone, trying to recapture the class’s attention from the front of the room. “It’s true that many of you were already familiar with the story, as it’s a classic and teaches some important fundamentals when we’re studying romance and love.”

  “It teaches us the false idea that women need to be saved by a prince,” Paris grumbled, rolling her eyes.

  In response, many of the women behind her broke into sudden whispers of disapproval.

  “It’s romantic for a man to risk his life to save a woman.” Becky instantly sounded offended.

  Paris spun in her seat, one arm on the back of the chair. “Is it? Is that what you need for someone to prove their love and commitment to you? Them to fight a pirate, possibly lose an eye, nearly die and maybe get some gnarly scars? Nothing says romance like a permanent wound to the face.”

  Becky grimaced. “A man worthy of one of our Cinderellas or me would win the fight and not get scarred.”

  “I hate to break it to you, princess, but even the best fighters meet their match.” Paris shook her head. “There are a lot of factors when it comes to fighting, and if you pull a sword, chances are you’re going to get hurt.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” Becky replied, her eyes tiny little slits. “A real lady doesn’t fight.”

  “A real woman doesn’t allow others to fight her battles for her,” Paris argued, spinning back to face the headmistress. “Do we really require our Prince Charmings to save our Cinderellas as if they’re some damsel in distress? That’s a little outdated in this modern world, don’t you think?”

  Willow considered this for a moment, offering a thoughtful expression. “I’d like to believe that chivalry isn’t dead and that a man standing up for a woman is still very meaningful.”

  “Because why? Because women can’t stand up for themselves?” Paris fired back. “Are we really teaching women in this day and age to look for men who will fight their battles for them instead of creating ones who can do it themselves?”

  “I think we can teach both,” Willow countered. “Just because a woman can stand up for herself doesn’t mean that she has to. It does show a man’s commitment to her if he fights for her honor.”

  Paris rolled her eyes, slumping in her seat. “We’re not living in the day and age when evil wizards captured princesses and locked them in a tower in a forbidden land. I thought The Princess Bride was funny and whimsical, but the concept isn’t relatable to our modern world. Women aren’t usually forced to marry an evil prince anymore. If they are, it should be their job to stand up for themselves. I mean, if I’m honest, I don’t want a man who is all ‘as you wish’ about everything.”

  “No offense,” Becky began. “But I don’t think you’re the type of woman that men who say that kind of thing fall for. Most respectable women would die to have a man willing to give them whatever they want.”

  Paris turned again, her wicked grin on her face. “It’s cute when you say ‘no offense,’ and you totally mean to be offensive. And no offense to you, meaning definite offense intended, but I think it says a lot about your lack of character that you would die for a man to be your slave. I would rather a man have a backbone.”

  Becky narrowed her eyes, fine lines spraying around them like spider webs. “Wanting someone who will give you whatever you want doesn’t reflect on character.”

  “Needing someone to give you what you want because you lack in yourself is exactly how character is defined,” Paris countered.

  Becky’s gaze shot to the headmistress as if she expected her to intervene. Paris also glanced in Willow’s direction, curious about her reaction to this exchange.

  She smiled politely. “I think that these kinds of discussions are very helpful when we’re studying the art of love. There are usually no right or wrong answers and Paris is correct that the modern world has changed some of our outdated practices. That’s one reason the faculty is reviewing the curriculum and trying to make it more relevant to today’s world.”

  “I disagree that the modern world should have any bearing on our curriculum,” Becky stated. “Mother says that if Happily Ever After College starts changing things that their funding will see a serious drop, not to mention that Saint Valentine will be notified.”

  Paris glanced back at the woman. “That sounds like a threat there, Rebecca.”

  “It’s the truth,” Becky replied bitterly. “The headmistress is well aware that the alumni for the college are proud of the traditional curriculum and the hint of it changing amid some other more scandalous news has many unsettled.”

  Paris laughed. “By scandalous news, do you mean the fact that some heathen halfling is traipsing around the college?”

  “Fairy godmothers are supposed to be fairies, plain and simple,” Becky fired back. “There are those who don’t approve of us being anything else, especially in the Montgomery family, which has a long line of fairy godmothers.”

  “Your family sounds like such tolerant and open-minded people,” Paris joked, shaking her head at the other woman.

  The class all looked at Becky as if the ball was in her court now. “Fairies understand love in a way that a magician can’t. It makes zero sense for a race that is obsessed with skill and information to try to be experts in love.”

  All eyes darted to Paris. “Right, because adding some objectivity to matchmaking makes zero sense. Maybe it’s your inability to think for yourself that’s the reason you need a man to save you. Things evolve. The world has, and with it, love has changed. If you weren’t so obsessed with outdated fairytales, you’d see that the modern woman is no princess.”

  “Love is timeless,” Becky spat, nearly yelling, her face flushing red. “The art of love has and will never change. If you knew anything about it, you’d know that.”

  “Love might not change since the principles should always be the same,” Paris argued. “But dating practices and relationship dynamics have changed. Women aren’t these little flowers who need a knight in shining armor to slay dragons for them anymore. They are educated and equals in a world where the glass ceiling has been lifted. I bet you’re also going to require your date to pay for everything, is that right?”

  Becky scoffed loudly. “Of course. If a man doesn’t pay for a date, it’s offensive.”

  Paris laughed. “So a man has to do ‘as you wish’ and risk his life to prove his love and pay for the meal to win your affection. Wow, you’re a real catch. Bet you have the suckers lining up to put a ring on you.”

  Becky fumed, her face growing redder. “I have a fair number of suitors. All respectable men who see me as a prize.”

  Paris nodded. “Yep, a prize they can buy like a hook—”

  “Don’t you dare insinuate that I’m one of those,” Becky interrupted, nearly shaking with anger.

  “I don’t think I was insinuating at all,” Paris teased, enjoying this way too much. “If they can buy your affection with fancy meals or whatever, I think we both know what that makes you.”

  “Don’t you dare say it,” Becky seethed.

  “Easy,” Paris chimed. “You are quite simply easy and also totally lazy. Buy you a meal, do whatever you say, and fight your battles. That’s all one has to do to win your affection. Does personality or who someone is matter to you?”

  “Of course it does,” Becky stated. “I only date men who have a distinguished pedigree.”

  Paris chuckled. “Like a dog, right? Got to find someone who comes from the right family and is well-trained. You say ‘sit,’ and your doggie sits. Sounds so romantic.”

  Becky threw her finger in Paris’ direction, glaring at the headmistress. “She’s making a mockery of this c
lass and the art of love.”

  Unhurried, Paris turned to see a calm expression on Willow’s face. “I think that Paris brings up some interesting points and again, we need to consider if certain dating practices are outdated. As far as the Montgomery family goes, if your mother or grandmother has a problem with the fact that we’re educating a halfling here, they can take it up with me directly. Saint Valentine is well aware, but he does not run this college as that responsibility falls straight to me.”

  Paris wanted to see Becky’s expression but decided to stay facing forward and count her wins. She was grateful that the headmistress was supportive of her despite facing criticism for her decision to keep Paris at the school. She didn’t want to push her luck and hoped that Willow didn’t regret that decision—which meant that Paris had to prove her worth.

  Chapter Five

  Although Paris wasn’t going to admit it, ballroom dancing class hadn’t proven to be the torture she originally thought it would be. She still didn’t understand the point regarding being a fairy godmother, but she did appreciate that it was about obtaining skills and being well-rounded.

  Paris had promised Headmistress Starr that she’d maintain an open mind, even if it still seemed backward to teach women to be poised and refined to find love. She realized things couldn’t change overnight at Happily Ever After College. And Paris liked learning some of the dance moves and secretly thought it might make her a better fighter.

  Wilfred, the AI butler and dance instructor, clapped his white-gloved hands to gain everyone’s attention at the start of class. “Some of you will work on the tango today. Others have progressed to the rhumba and cha-cha. If you haven’t mastered the waltz, you’ll review that fundamental dance today. We can’t learn the advanced moves until we know all of the beginner steps.”

  Paris could have sworn that Wilfred’s eyes slid to her briefly. She knew that she hadn’t mastered any of the dances, but she felt like she could keep up well enough with most of them and caught on quickly.