Page 46 of Leda's Log

“Uh, right,” she said uncomfortably. “Listen to Leda. You need to stay here.”

Mr. Barrens latched on to her arm.

“Don’t worry. Everything is going to be all right.” Cupid tried to peel his hand off of her, but he wasn’t having that. “I’ll…uh, call you.”

He let go instantly, grinning like an idiot. Then he sat down at his desk and stared at the phone, waiting.

“Nice going, Cupid,” I chuckled as the three of us left the building. “He’s a real catch.”

“Oh, shut up,” she snapped.

I winked at her, then turned toward Aspen, who was clutching her bundle of papers like it was a lifeline. “Ok, one insurmountable problem down, one to go. Let’s get ready for the ball!”

When we arrived back at the dress shop, the crowds were still there, gawking at Angel. She hadn’t made much progress on her nap. Nero and Sierra had made progress, however.

“That one,” our daughter declared, pointing at the tuxedo Nero was wearing.

“Are you sure?” Nero asked her.

“Sure!” Sierra clapped her hands.

“Because there might be another two hundred tuxedos in the back that I could still try on.”

“No.” Sierra pointed at him again. “That one.”

I looked him up and down, smirking.

His gaze slid to me. “Yes, Pandora?”

“While I do enjoy your usual black battle leather,” I said, wetting my lips as I took one more long, leisurely look at him…and then another…and another, “I must say that you look wicked good in a tux.”

He hooked an arm around me, scooping me in closer. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I whispered against his lips, nibbling playfully on them. “It certainly accentuates your features.” I slid my hands across his chest, around to his back, then plunged lower, grabbing his butt.

“Did you hitherwith one of your arrows?” Aspen asked Cupid.

“No.” Cupid sighed. “They’realwayslike that.”

“Ok, ok. We’ll behave.” I kissed Nero once, then pulled away from him. Regretfully.

The twinkle in his eyes was so inviting, so tempting, that I had to look away so I didn’t give in to the urge to throw myself at him again. Nero’s chuckles echoed delightfully in my mind.

I cleared my throat. “Ok, Princess,” I said to Aspen. “Let’s get you to the ball!”

CHAPTER 7

THE ROYAL BALL

The castle was an island at the center of the city lake, encircled by a cape of rose trees. It was a summer castle, a castle that had never seen war. It had been built with aesthetics in mind, rather than defense. Waterfalls plunged down its polished stone walls, sparkling in the evening sunlight. Its towers were white, rimmed with gold. The lawns that surrounded it were a beautiful shade of green, too perfect to exist in nature.

It was a castle of luxury and excess, not battlements and bloodshed. And it must have taken an exorbitant amount of labor—both physical and political—to keep it that way.

I walked across the ornamental drawbridge toward the castle, my arm linked with Nero’s. Sierra skipped ahead of us, the puffy pink skirt of her party dress bouncing with every hop. She wore glittery silver slippers and a sparkling silver crown. She bore the gigantic crown with natural ease, like she was destined to rule an empire.

I had higher hopes for her. I hoped she would live a happy life free of politics and drama, out of the spotlight. It was a grand, optimistic wish, given that she was my daughter.

“Leda Pandora, the Angel of Chaos!” the herald at the door announced me, surely to the delight of all the party guests. I mean, who wouldn’t be thrilled by the arrival of ‘the Angel of Chaos’ to a formal royal event?

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