Page 91 of Degradation

Getaina picked up the stone bowl and mortar, hefting its weight in her hands to verify its authenticity.

“You can do things I cannot,” she conceded. “But that doesn’t mean we will be able to perfect the spell in a matter of hours. Be determined, but also be realistic, girl.”

“That’s precisely what I am. Now, are you here to work or talk my ear off?”

Her bark of laughter filled the room.

“I can conjure the herbs I’m familiar with but have sent Margret for the ones I’m not,” I said, beginning.

The other casters appeared throughout the morning as we worked. The initial spell failed with less spectacular effect than the one Garron drank. The footman’s hair grew out in a cascade to trail behind him, but nothing more changed on his features.

“A worthy hair tonic,” Getaina said, making notes.

One of the other casters managed to enhance his eyelashes and another his lips.

“We’re getting closer,” Getaina said when she caught me frowning.

“We have another hour. Closer isn’t enough. The princes’ faces are known. Hair and eyelashes won’t disguise them.”

Daemon’s entrance timed perfectly with my growing vexation. His gaze found mine as he crossed the room.

“You look like you want to cosh someone upside the head, Lamb. Should I fetch Eadric for you?”

I snorted, amused, though I shouldn’t have been.

“I cannot get this spell to work, and my temper feels akin to Edmund’s at the moment.”

“That won’t do.” Gripping my shoulders, he spun me and dipped me low to steal a kiss. Several of the other casters chuckled at his playful antics when he immediately righted me.

“Better?” he asked.

“Perhaps.” I lifted a cup filled with the newest concoction. “Would you care to try it?”

“For another kiss, I’ll drink anything.” He kissed me thoroughly before I could react then stole the cup and drained it in one gulp.

“You have to kiss me again no matter what I look like,” he said, even as his face started to change before my eyes. His hair grew, and his body shrank, thinning everywhere but in the hips and chest. I struggled not to squeal in delight as I stared at a feminine version of Daemon that also looked a bit like me.

“How?” one of the casters breathed.

“Look at ‘em. See how he looks like her? It was the kiss. Her saliva mixed with his.” Getaina spit in another cup filled with the brew.

Daemon’s gaze lit with humor. “Please tell me that one’s for Darian.”

“Fetch your brothers,” I said, not hiding my delighted smile.

“Margret, we’ll need five dresses,” I called. “Hurry.”

Daemon returned with Liam and Darian. They accepted their cups from the casters, and Daemon placed his hand over my mouth to prevent me from warning them. I stomped on his toe, but he barely flinched, too eager to watch them down the brew.

Darian did not make a pretty woman but didn’t seem to mind his face when he noted his buxom chest. Liam sighed heavily at his body’s change and arched a brow at me.

“You’re unrecognizable,” I said.

Getaina chose that moment to spit into another cup.

Darian started to heave mightily.

“Perhaps another caster should contribute so no two look alike,” I said.

---