Page 109 of Charmless
“Ryland.” I clutched at his arm, trying to caution him. The fury simmering in Florian’s eyes unnerved me.
But Ryland shook me off and continued, “It’s true and what’s more, I can prove it.”
“Liar!” Florian unsheathed his sword, his face suffused with fury.
My breath caught in my throat. Would Florian dare to murder his own brother in front of so many witnesses? I believed that he would have if something had not darted between them.
Florian reared back, staring up at the small creature hovering over his head. Mimsey Peascod! Her pointed little face glowed a healthy shade of pink and her ashen wings had been restored to an iridescent blue. Had the irascible pixie returned to help us as she had promised? My heart swelled with hope even though I was uncertain what such a small being could do against a contingent of armed guards and one enraged prince.
Already furious to the point of madness, Florian turned purple at the sight of Mimsey fluttering just out of his reach.
“Which one of you fools freed my pixie?” he howled.
“I am the Chieftana Mimsey Peascod! I am no man’s pixie.” Mimsey declared. Her lips curved in a wicked grin. “But if you desire my magic dust so badly, you shall have it.”
She flew straight at Florian’s face. Twitching her wings, she enveloped his entire head in a shower of glittering silver. Florian tried to swat at Mimsey with his sword, but he was blinded by the cloud of magic dust. He choked and was seized by such a fit of violent sneezing, his sword flew from his hand. He tumbled backward, falling on his butt.
Before any of his astonished men could come to the prince’s aid, Mimsey flitted among the guards and scutcheons, liberally dispensing her dust without any regard for who she hit.
When she darted past me, Horatio shouted, “Ella, cover your face.”
But his warning came too late. I breathed in a snoot full. My eyes watered and I wheezed until my head reeled. I staggeredand would have fallen but someone braced me. Horatio, perhaps?
I knuckled my eyes and was finally able to open them. I gasped to find the world transformed into a place of beauty and vibrant color. The night sky sparkled with diamonds. The grim gray stone walls of the prison had been repainted in all the hues of the rainbow. My wondering gaze tracked to where Mal’s bald head had sprouted long, luxurious tresses.
“Oh, look, Horatio, Mal has grown his hair back. He will be thrilled when he wakes up.” My brow furrowed. “But maybe he won’t like it being green.”
“Ella, no.” Horatio gave me a gentle shake. He was trying to tell me something, but I could not focus on anything except the delectable shape of his mouth.
I flung my arms around his neck and tried to kiss him. Much to my disappointment, he peeled me off him, capturing my wrists in a strong grip.
“Ella, stop! You are under the influence of pixie dust. You must try to fight it.”
“All right.” I sighed. But why would I want to do that? I had never experienced such euphoria in all my life, and I was not the only one flooded with joy.
Prince Ryland had told me he had abandoned his music. But my gentle Harper was once more filling the night with song, his voice golden and glorious enough to make fairies weep. A few of the guards were sobbing with emotion while the rest tossed aside their weapons and began to dance. The Chief Warder performed a graceful pirouette. I marveled that such a big man could be so light on his feet.
“Bravo,” I said. Freeing my hands from Horatio’s grip, I applauded.
Horatio groaned. He was the only one who was not enjoying himself, but my beloved had always been too serious and full of duty for his own good.
“Waltz with me,” I begged. But when I reached for him, I grasped nothing but air. I pouted as I watched Horatio head for Ryland instead.
He shook the prince. “Snap out of it, Your Highness. This is our chance to escape.”
Ryland ignored him and kept on singing.
Escape? Escape from what? I frowned at a vague memory of being in danger. The recollection threatened to dispel my happy mood, especially when I realized Florian was lurching toward me.
The prince tossed back his golden mane of hair, his tongue snaking out to moisten his lips. His eyes gleamed with a lust-filled expression.
“C’mere, you little vixen,” he growled. “Those breeches are not proper for a wench. Take them off.”
I giggled and smiled at him as I bent down to retrieve one of the guard’s discarded truncheons. It felt all heavy and rough. I was delighted when the weapon transformed into a large golden sunflower with a thick stalk.
I kept smiling at Florian until he staggered within range. There was a loud crack as I struck him across the face with my sunflower. I swung so hard I fell to my knees. Florian went down even harder, blood spurting from his nose. His body twitched violently and then he lay still.
“Yes!” I chortled with triumph. “You are bleeding and unconscious. I really like that in a man.”
