Page 2 of Accidentally Ever After
“Sign the last page,” he instructed, looking bored.
I flipped to the back, scanning for the total. The number made my eyes widen—enough to cover rent for six months. I signed quickly before he could change his mind.
“Excellent,” he said, rolling up the papers. “The prince will be pleased.”
“The prince?” I asked. “Does he handle the accounting or…?”
But Lord Unpronounceable had already swept from the room, leaving me confused but paid, which was good enough for me.
It wasn’t until I was directing the cleanup crew that the bride’s father returned, accompanied by the gorgeous prince from earlier and what appeared to be some kind of fairy priest.
“Ah, the consort arrives,” the priest said, looking me up and down with undisguised curiosity.
I glanced behind me. “I think you have me confused with someone else. I’m just the caterer.”
Prince Caelen stepped forward, those fascinating wings slightly extended. “Blake Morgan, you signed the binding contract not one hour ago. As is tradition, the marriage will be fully consummated after a suitable adjustment period in the royal palace.”
I blinked. Then blinked again. “I’m sorry, did you say marriage?”
“Indeed,” he said, reaching out to touch my face with cool fingers. “Destiny has a curious way of finding the perfect match, does it not? Even across realms.”
“There’s been a mistake,” I said, backing away. “I signed an invoice. For the catering.”
The fairy lord looked offended. “Absolutely not. I presented you with a traditional binding contract of matrimony between you and Prince Caelen, as arranged through the ancient rite of Seelie matchmaking.”
“You said it was the bill!” I protested.
The prince’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Father, did you misrepresent the nature of the document?”
The older fairy waved a dismissive hand. “Semantics. The Seelie matchmakers selected this human specifically. The contract is signed in blood and magic.”
“It was ink!” I argued, looking down at my hand where, sure enough, the pen prick I thought I’d gotten from a cheap ballpoint was now glowing slightly with silver light.
Prince Caelen studied my face, then sighed. “It appears there has been some… miscommunication. However, the binding is complete.” He turned to his father. “We will discuss your methods later.”
He then turned those unnerving eyes back to me. “Blake Morgan, it seems you are now my consort. Preparations for your relocation to the palace will begin immediately.”
“No, no, no,” I said, panic rising. “I have a business. An apartment. A life! I can’t just go off to fairy land!”
“The Autumn Court of the Seelie Realm,” he corrected. “And yes, you can. You must. The binding is unbreakable without significant magical consequences.”
“What kind of consequences?” I demanded.
The priest coughed delicately. “Traditionally, violation of a royal marriage contract results in transformation to a rather unappealing amphibian species.”
“You’re saying I’ll turn into a frog?!”
“More of a toad, actually,” the priest clarified, not helpfully.
I looked from the priest to the father to the prince—my apparent husband—who was watching me with an expression somewhere between amusement and concern.
“This is insane,” I said. “This is literally insane.”
Prince Caelen’s wings fluttered slightly. “I understand this is unexpected. You will be given time to adjust. But the magic has accepted our match, which means we are compatible in waysbeyond mortal understanding.” He stepped closer, and despite my panic, I couldn’t help noticing how good he smelled—like thunderstorms and wild honey. “I promise you will be treated with every consideration due my consort.”
And that’s how I found myself agreeing to pack an overnight bag and report to the fairy circle in Richmond Park at dawn. Because apparently, that’s a thing. Fairy circles. For commuting to magical realms. Where I was now married to a prince.
Like I said. Stupidest thing I’ve ever done.
