All's Fair in Love and Lion

by Bethany Averie

  “No, he’s not here. Another time I’ll introduce you.”

  “Is it serious between you and this mystery man?” She gives me a friendly nudge. “Will we hear wedding bells?”

  Gus reaches for Jill’s hand. “Leave Sasha alone.” He gives me an apologetic look. “Jill always has to know everything about everybody. Whether it’s her business or not.”

  “Sasha never talks about her romantic life,” Jill protests.

  “Let’s get something to drink, Jill,” Gus says, steering her into the crowd.

  The music thrums under my feet. Around me students sway to a song I recognize as a popular tune from the previous year. Throughout the ballroom thousands of tiny white lights inspire a fantasy atmosphere. Tables covered in white linen surround the hardwood dance floor. Streamers of blue and gold hang off the ends of the tables along with glitter and sequins in the same colors. At the buffet tables, I talk to some of the other chaperones, checking the time every so often. The night can’t end fast enough.

  Finishing my water, I stand in the doorway and watch the students thoughtfully. What would it be like to have Monroe here? Would we join the others on the dance floor? Or maybe we’d find a table in a corner and talk over the music while I monitor the students. I grimace. A realistic scenario would be not having a moment to ourselves. People would ask us a million questions. I sigh. Probably best he’s not here.

  A tap on my shoulder makes me turn around. I blink.

  Monroe holds out a hand. “Waiting for me?”

  “What are you doing here?” Despite the avalanche of emotions, I can’t help admiring how handsome he is dressed in a black tuxedo, with a teal bowtie and vest that match my gown. My heart pounds as I place my hand in his.

  “I wanted the last dance,” he says, kissing my cheek. “Perhaps later I can whisk you off and have you all to myself.”

  “But-but you weren’t supposed to be here!”

  “You didn’t think I’d miss this, did you?”

  “I told you I preferred coming alone.” I lick my lips, nervously.

  “Are you free for the last dance or not?”

  Hesitantly I say, “Well . . . since you came all this way. But, Monroe, what were you thinking?”

  “Aside from the fact I couldn’t stand the thought of any other man’s arms around you, I wanted to see you. You’re gorgeous. The seamstresses outdid themselves.”

  “You’re very handsome, yourself.”

  He straightens his shoulders. “More handsome than Carl?”

  “Are you jealous?”

  A rueful expression crosses his features. “Let’s say I understand how you felt when I danced with Lily.”

  Anger curls inside me at the mention of her name. “Mind if we change the subject?”

  “With pleasure.” He draws me into his arms. “Was the evening very dull?”

  I fight a smile. “Extremely.”

  “Then, you’re glad I came?”

  I laugh. “Okay, I admit it. No matter what I originally said, I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Excellent.”

  “Wait . . .” I gaze at him carefully, suspicion seeping into me. “Were you in my parking garage earlier?”

  “Guilty.”

  “And the black limo when I was walking into the hotel?”

  “Yes.”

  I swat his shoulder. “Monroe!”

  “I couldn’t help myself.”

  “Why didn’t you come up earlier?”

  “I didn’t want you to be mad.”

  “What am I going to do with you?”

  He looks contrite. “Please don’t be angry. You know you’re my weakness.”

  I fight a smile. “You’re hopeless.”

  “Does that mean you forgive me?”

  “I guess so.”

  He gives me a quick kiss. “All’s right with the world.”

  I rest my head on his chest. “I wonder about you sometimes.”

  “This must be the famous Monroe,” Carl says, coming over to us as the dance ends. “I’m Carl Darrenmore, I teach Junior English.”

  “I heard you’re Sasha’s colleague.”

  “I hear you’re going to be her husband,” Carl answers. “You’re one fortunate man.”

  “I agree.” Monroe tightens his arm around my waist. “She’s a treasure.”

  Carl nods. “Excuse me, I have to announce the king and queen.” He walks off to where the DJ’s set up against the opposite side of the room.

  “I think someone else wants to meet you,” I say, when I see Jill almost trip as she runs over to us. She pulls Gus along behind her.

  She regains her balance, and says breathlessly, “Sasha, is this the special someone?”

  “Monroe, this is Jill and her husband, Gus Michaels.”

  “Tell me, how did you and Sasha meet?” Jill asks.

  “Oh,” Monroe says, as I pretend interest in my high-heeled shoes, “we sort of ran into each other and things went from there.”

  “Really?” Jill glances at me curiously, her eyes full of questions.

  “We got together and eventually Sasha agreed to become my wife.”

  “You’re engaged?” She turns on me. “You never said anything.”

  My face burns. “Only Carl knew.”

  “You could’ve told me,” she says. “Well, congratulations! When’s the big day?”

  “December twelfth,” Monroe answers.

  “Sasha has been holding out on us.” She glances at me slyly. “You should’ve come sooner, Monroe. You missed most of the dance.”

  “It’s all right,” he says smoothly. “I came in time for the last one.”

  Jill sighs. “That’s so romantic.”

  Carl grabs a microphone and announces the senior boy and girl who are prom king and queen. Both students were in Carl’s class the year before, so I don’t know them very well. Marjorie makes the final announcements and the DJ starts the music for the last dance.

  Gus tugs on Jill’s hand. “Come on, Jilly. Let’s leave Sasha and Monroe alone.”

  As Monroe and I dance, I can hear his heart thump in his chest through the soft fabric of his white shirt. I close my eyes as a gentle warmth envelopes me. Close to him I feel safe. Everything else disappears. Lily’s threats feel like a distant nightmare. There’s no First or Third Realm to decide between, just this magical moment where I can forget all our problems.

  When the song ends, I reluctantly let Monroe go. He never leaves my side while the students head for the door. Once the ballroom empties of the teenagers, we join the throng in the hallway. Monroe waits in an alcove while I enter the ladies’ room. I lock the stall door behind me.

  “Did you see the man Miss Brighton was with?” Tiffany’s voice ricochets off the bathroom walls.

  I bite my lip when the other girl answers, “I did. He’s definitely hot. Isn’t she your teacher?”

  “Yeah, for English,” Tiffany answers.

  “Have you ever seen that guy before?” the girl asks.

  “No,” Tiffany says. “I don’t even know who he is. She doesn’t talk about her personal life.”

  “Someone heard Mrs. Michaels say Miss Brighton’s engaged to him.”

  “Seriously?” Tiffany shrieks. “Who was it?”

  Please leave, I silently beg. Go away so I can get out of here.

  “Dana told me,” the girl says.

  “Did Dana hear anything else?”

  “No, that’s all,” the girl says. “I’m gonna go now, Zeke wants to leave.”

  “Yeah, I gotta go, too. RJ’s taking me home,” Tiffany says.

  The door closes and I exit the stall. Washing my hands, I shake my head. Come Monday, I’ll be bombarded with questions. I leave the ladies’ room and rejoin Monroe.

  “Ready?” he asks. His brows furrow. “What’s wrong?”

  “Student gossip. I’ll survive.”

  We say our goodbyes to Marjorie and the other chaperones and exit the hotel.

 
“Thank you for everything,” I say, starting my car.

  Monroe buckles the passenger seatbelt. “I did it for you.”

  “Do Thirdlings have proms?”

  “Nothing like this. Most of us are taught at home.”

  “I guess tutors make a lot of money being in such high demand.”

  “Some of them do.”

  “Is it hard for them?”

  “Depends on what family hires them.”

  “Might I tutor if we end up in the Third Realm?”

  “I wouldn’t recommend it. It’s very competitive. Much more than here.”

  “I could handle it.” I purse my lips. “Work is one place I am confident of myself.”

  “You know I can provide for both of us.”

  “It’s not about that. If I choose the Third Realm, everything will be unfamiliar. At least if I tutored, I’d fulfill a purpose.”

  “Is that what you’ve been worried about?”

  “Partly,” I say, avoiding the subject of Lily’s mental visits. “I’ve been independent since I was fifteen. I’m used to doing things on my own.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  We reach my building and find an empty parking space. “Melody isn’t even aware of everything. I try not to think about how I grew up.” Taking the keys out of the ignition, I blink back tears. Memories long tucked away spring to the surface. “I’ve been alone so long. I can’t figure out how to tell you about myself.”

  He strokes my hand with his thumb. “You’ve told me a lot. I want you to feel you can speak your mind.”

  I lean my head against the steering wheel. “How can you be so kind? How can you be gentle and undemanding?”

  I hear a click, and the seatbelt slides back. His arms come around me and I sob into his tuxedo coat. “I didn’t have a good relationship with my parents,” he says. “I don’t talk about my worries much. In that way I understand why you keep things private.” He rubs my back. “You have me now, so you don’t have to push any thought aside anymore. You can let it all out.”

  Burying my face in his shirt, grief and loneliness wash over me. All the years my aunt made me feel unwelcome, the way she acted as if I was a burden rather than family. Even though Mel has been a wonderful friend, she couldn’t completely drive the sensations of being alone in the world from me.

  Books and fairy-tales had become my solace. Work was a distraction, as well as a purpose. It wasn’t until Monroe entered my life I began to believe I could have something special—someone special.

  He makes no comment, even though the front of his tuxedo gets ruined.

  A coldness replaces the tears when I think about Lily. I start to speak, to tell him everything, but at the last second, I close my mouth. Is there any way he’d forgive my silence on the matter? Will he sympathize with my need to prove myself? Or, will he decide he can do better than me?

  Chapter 27: Monroe

  “I’m delivering these to Sasha Brighton.”

  The receptionist’s eyes travel from my face to the bouquet in my arms. Her jaw drops.

  “Do you suppose she’ll like them?” I ask.

  “If a handsome man was bringing me a huge bunch of roses on a Monday afternoon, I’d be thrilled. Especially red roses.” She indicates an enormous binder on the desk. “You’ll need to sign in and get a visitor’s pass. Is Sasha expecting you?”

  With a flourish, I sign my name in the book. “No, I thought I’d surprise her.”

  The lady stands and checks the book, then glances back at me. “You’re Monroe Dubay?”

  “You’ve heard of me?”

  She grins. “Jill Michaels told me she met you at the Junior-Senior Prom. Is it true you’re her fiancé?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “I’m glad Sasha finally found someone. She’s such a sweet person.”

  “Is there anything else I should know, or may I go see her?”

  “Follow me.” The lady comes out from behind the counter, and leads me up a metal staircase.

  As we climb the steps, students and faculty stop what they’re doing. I hear their whispered questions. Focused on my goal, I don’t care if the whole school sees me. A few seconds later, the receptions leads me down a plain white hall and stops in front of Sasha’s classroom.

  At the receptionist’s knock, Sasha’s voice calls, “Come in!”

  She opens the door. “Sasha? You have a visitor.”

  Sasha turns and her eyes widen when she sees me. She clears her throat. “Thank you, Alice. I’ll see you later.”

  The woman leaves, and I approach Sasha’s desk. “Good afternoon.” I hand her the bouquet. “These are for you.”

  She accepts the flowers from me. “Monroe, this is a surprise.”

  “A good one, I hope.”

  “I’ve never seen such a big bunch of roses.” She turns it around. “You didn’t have to do this.”

  I brush her words aside. “Do you like them?”

  “A bit extravagant.”

  My smile fades.

  “I mean, they’re exquisite, Monroe. Thank you.” She sets them on her desk and turns to me. “What’s the occasion?”

  “After the other night, I was concerned about you.”

  “I’m okay. I’ve been waiting to see you.” She glances away. “However, I expect I’ll be the main source of gossip around the school for days. Not exactly my favorite past-time.”

  “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m not accustomed to mixing my career with my personal life.”

  “If we’re going to marry, I want to know about everything in your life.”

  She lowers her head. “I’ll get used to it.”

  “And this, as well.” I capture her lips in a searing kiss.

  She gasps when I let her go. “Oh, Monroe. Forget everything I just said! It’s a relief to have you hold me. I was afraid my meltdown scared you off.”

  “Never.”

  “I really do like the flowers.”

  “Is your day going well?”

  “My students have been asking about you all day.” She presses her lips together. “The afternoon will be more of the same.”

  “Is it bothering you?”

  “I wish they’d focus more on English class and less on you.”

  I kiss her cheek. “My being here hasn’t helped.”

  “I should’ve known it would happen eventually.”

  “You’re not mad?”

  She shakes her head as the bell rings. “The only problem now is my next class will be here soon.”

  “I won’t keep you.”

  “I’ll see you later?” she asks as students begin filing in.

  I glimpse her students’ shocked expressions, and give her a wink. “Without a doubt.”

  As I leave, I hear someone ask, “Miss Brighton, who was that?”

  Back home, I sit in a chair to pour a glass of scotch when the door flies open.

  “You have a message, sir,” Ayres says, materializing beside me.

  Taking the missive, I wave him off. He vanishes.

  Dear Lord Dubay,

  We are not certain if you’ve heard: Alveron, Lily Tigress’s uncle, has arrived. We’ve doubled our guard. However, he’s a Fifth Level Magician. He could free Miss Tygress and we’re powerless to stop him.

  Please be alert in case such an event occurs.

  Sincerely,

  Roark and Neville of Mount Iron Prison

  The scotch crashes to the floor, staining the rug. “No!” I trip over the table and stumble from the room.

  Out in the courtyard, I transport myself to Quin’s castle.

  “Lord Dubay.” Quin’s tuxedoed valet answers the door, his steely gaze raking over me in astonishment. “May I help you?”

  “Is Quin at home?”

  “He is in his study with Miss Merilee. I’ll announce—”

  “There isn’t time,” I exclaim, brushing past the valet and storming down the
grand entrance. “Where is he?”

  “Last door on the right,” the valet huffs behind me. “Sir—”

  “Shut up!” I roar, bursting into the room.

  I find myself in a huge parlor, decorated in black, blue, and gray. From a leather black couch, Quin and Merilee raise their heads and stare at me. “Uh, Monroe, what . . .?”

  I thrust the message under his nose. “Read this.”

  Quin lets go of Merilee and takes the paper from my shaking hand. “When did you get this?” In his agitation he flickers from shadow to solid. Nightshades don’t usually get rattled.

  “Today.”

  His jaw tightens and he becomes solid again. “We must act fast.” He kisses Merilee’s fingertips. “You’ll have to excuse me, my love. Pressing Council business.”

  Merilee stands. “Come visit me when you have a chance.” The door clicks shut behind her.

  “You suppose we can gather everyone right now?” I ask.

  “It would be best. You find Bast and Neru. I’ll track down Loralyn and ask her to call on Minuet, Samson, and Delton.” He dissolves into the shadows, the fastest way for him to travel.

  I let his insubstantial form pass me, then I head for the outdoors and onto my next destination.

  I beat on the massive doors bellowing, “Bast, answer the damn door!”

  With a creak, the door gradually opens. “Lord Monroe, what is the matter?” Rictor asks in his usual supercilious air.

  “I must see Bast right away.”

  “I’m afraid he’s unavailable.”

  I push past Rictor and run down the hallway. “I don’t care. Where is he?”

  “He’s tending to Lady Alexia. She isn’t well today. I must ask you—”

  “It’s imperative I speak to him.”

  Rictor sighs. “Come with me.” He mutters to himself as he leads me down the long, stone passageways. Banners bearing a jackal’s silhouette adorn the walls and a draft sends chills up my arms. He pauses at a large oak door and swings it open.

  Bast turns from where he sits on the edge of a gold and white decorated bed. Alexia reclines against gold pillows.

  “Monroe, what are you doing here?” he asks.

  “I got a letter from the Vulture Brothers. It’s about Alveron.”

  Alexia’s eyes widen. “Alveron?”

  Bast jerks to his feet. “What’s it say?”