Page 4 of Jasmine's Enchanted Genie

“Sit.” She waved to the chair across from her desk.

I took in the paintings of monsters stalking through dark forests on the walls that shimmered as if the creatures were alive, plus the low bookcase full of ancient tomes, some with magical-sounding titles.

“Keep your gaze on me, if you please,” she snapped. “And I told you to sit.”

I perched on the edge of the chair.

“You received an invitation to the king’s ball,” she said.

“How did you know that?’

A smile curled her ruby lips, and the creasing of her face must’ve hurt since she rarely made the gesture. “I have my ways.”

“Did you . . .” I glanced at the book spines again, reading Advanced Spellcasting and The Ways of Genies.

Genies?

“Did I do what?” Her gaze followed mine. She rose and took those particular books from the shelf and placed them in her desk drawer.

“Did you somehow make sure I was invited to the weekend events at the palace?” I asked.

Her smile deepened, though it didn’t reach her sharp eyes.

I couldn’t imagine being able to perform magic. What could a person like that do with unlimited power?

If it was me, I’d only do good.

“I can’t go to the ball,” I said.

Her face twisted with disgust. “Why not?”

I plucked at my patchwork blouse. “Do you think they’ll let me through the gate dressed like this? I don’t own ballgowns.” If I did, I would sell them to buy medicine for my sister.

“I’ll outfit you like a queen if you do one tiny thing for me,” Cordellia said, bracing her arms on the top of her desk.

Hope sprang up inside me. If I could get inside the palace, I could locate the healers. I’d beg them to help my sister. Surely, I had something I could do for them that would encourage them to examine Lana.

But my boss was savvy. If she was offering me dresses, she had an ulterior motive.

“Why would you want to outfit me for a weekend event at the palace in addition to providing enough food for my sister and wood for our stove while I’m gone, plus a few weeks after that?” I asked.

Her slick smile falling, she stared down her long nose at me and smoothed the lush auburn bun tightly woven and pinned in place at the back of her neck. Today, she wore a silk green gown adorned with embroidery along the bodice that resembled tiny fairies. Like the creatures in her paintings, they also shimmered as if they were alive, their tiny faces pinched with pain. Who’d wear something like that?

Cordellia. My boss who might very well be a witch.

“I don’t remember offering your sister food or fuel for your stove,” she snarled. “Let alone enough to last for weeks.”

I clasped my fingers so tightly on my lap, they ached. “I could swear you did.”

Her scowl deepened.

“What do you need?” I asked.

“I’m looking for a simple lamp that’s located inside the palace.”

“You have lamps, none of which are simple.” I waved to the elaborate lantern sitting on a low table near the window, plus the ornate glass one emblazoned with dragons sitting on the corner of her desk.

I got by in my small workroom with a solitary bulb overhead—one without a pretty shade. Cordella enjoyed nice things, but she didn’t extend them to me.

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