Page 19 of Jasmine's Enchanted Genie

I bit back a snarl, though it wasn’t directed at her but her situation, and rebuilt the outer walls and roof. While I was at it, I mentally sought the male who owned this building and made him decide to gift it to the sisters so they’d never have to worry about where they’d live.

I replaced their stove with a heater that would magically never run out of fuel. I polished the scratched wooden floorboards and added soft rugs. A nice table near the sofa. A comfortable rocker that Jasmine could sit in while she rested in the evening—also with a self-heating throw tossed across the back.

In the kitchen, I stocked their now larger and improved cold box, plus their cupboards. I added new dishware and a kettle, plus tea from faraway places. Fresh vegetables and fruits that would replace themselves appeared on the now-polished counter. Another flick of my finger added grains, dried beans, and bread in jars on the surface. Butter in a quant dish.

I stalked to the only other room in the building and enlarged it. I replaced the clean, though worn bed with another, then matched it so there would be two, adding soft sheets and fluffy blankets. I filled their closets with clothing that would adjust to their sizes and shoes that would never pinch.

Returning to the living room, I stared down at Jasmine’s sister. “The hell with it,” I whispered softly enough she wouldn’t hear.

I flicked my finger her way but . . .

Nothing happened.

It was a simple healing spell. She should look better already. Instead, she appeared the same.

When I called the magic again, it came to me, though I sensed reluctance.

Healing someone broke the rules.

I’d read once that using a genie’s magic outside of wishes could harm the genie, though the passage I’d found in a moldy book had been too damaged for me to read more.

Worried I might’ve caused true harm when I only wanted to do good, I returned to the castle, appearing down the hall from where Viscar waited.

I called up a spell and was grateful when the magic worked as if nothing had changed. Perhaps I was mistaken about what I’d read.

Setting aside my concern, I used magic to dress myself for the upcoming occasion.

With a lift of my head, I strode toward Jasmine’s room.

10

JASMINE

When Boshun disappeared, I faced the mirror, unable to believe how lovely I looked. Was that really me staring back at myself in the glass?

I wasn’t a woman who needed pretty things. All I’d ever wanted was enough food to eat, warm clothing for winter, and for my sister to be well. This . . .

“Thank you,” I whispered, though I didn’t think Boshun could hear.

I grabbed my clutch—new, green, and matching my dress—and strode confidently to the door. Maybe it would be okay to savor fitting in, just this once.

I opened the door and stepped out into the hall.

Viscar looked me up and down. “If I might be so bold as to say so, you look lovely, Miss.”

My face heated. “Thank you. I believe I’m ready to go to breakfast now.”

“Ah, there you are, Lady Jasmine,” someone called out from nearby.

Boshun, dressed in a cream silk tunic with elaborate gold trim and dark pants that looked amazing with his green skin strode down the hall. “I’m so glad you waited for me to arrive to escort you to the first event.” He stopped beside us.

Viscar’s head tilted. “Who are you? I do apologize, but I don’t recognize you as one of the guests.”

A male dressed in a fancy black suit with a white shirt came scurrying down the hall, stopping beside us. He tugged on his black jacket and gave Boshun a bow. “I’m terribly sorry, my prince. I didn’t see you depart, but I hurried to catch up as quickly as I could.”

“Thank you so much, Charles,” Boshun said in a courtly voice. “I believe I can handle things from here. Please, go enjoy yourself with the other staff. I’ll send someone for you if I have need.”

Viscar’s eyes widened. “Prince?”

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