Page 50 of Wickedly Ever After
“Of course.” Hector gave Napoleon a final pat and the coachman led the horse away to harness him with the others. He joined Ida on the path, walking into a dawn turning the mist the color of gold.
Ida put her hands behind her back. “I shouldn’t have slapped you last night. I’m sorry.”
Hector paced beside her, facing the bright eastern sky, unwilling to trust his face. “I deserved it. I shouldn’t have saidwhat I did. I’m afraid I’m not accustomed to company or withholding my opinions when I ought to. My mistake. We need to work together.”
Ida stopped in the path. “We do. And I forgot that last night. I was angry—with you, with myself, and I’m still worried about Hari. But I will not let my emotions get the better of me again.”
“The fault was as much mine as yours. I mean—it was all mine, and—”
Ida laughed. It sounded like summer birdsong; it made him want to smile, to laugh back. He had the most horrible sensation in his chest again—not the squashy, squelchy feeling he’d had with Tinbit, but something light, dancing, effervescent.
“You never could apologize properly,” Ida said.
He laughed back. “No, I suppose I never could. But I accused you of something you would never do. I blamed you for setting up my gnome to fall for yours, and for that, I apologize.” He bowed slightly.
“I can forgive you if you can forgive me.” She smiled. “After all, I thought the same thing.”
He resumed walking, and she matched him stride for stride. “I suppose the question now is what we’re going to do about it.”
She nodded. “I was up most of the night with Hari thinking about that. The thing is, I’m not entirely sure there isn’t magic involved here, and they have to be told.”
“But you just said—”
“Oh, I didn’t do anything and neither did you. I can willingly believe that they simply connected over shared interests, but if you’d heard Hari last night—”
“Heard what?”
She glanced over at him. “He’s in love with Tinbit.”
He gaped. “Surely not. You must be mistaken. They only just started writing each other—it’s not been long enough.”
“I’m not,” she said. “And from the look on your face, you believe Tinbit is in love too. Now, you tell me, is that possible without magic?”
“I wouldn’t know. That’s not really my province.” He pointedly stared down at his feet, shuffling the muddy grasses aside.
“Well, it ismyprovince, and I’ve been thinking about something ever since I saw the scarecrows. Happily-Ever-After is…” She hesitated.
She didn’t want to say the word any more than he did. Broken. Shattered. Fractured. Whatever one called it, it wasn’t something either of them wanted to face yet.
“Well, something happened with it and things aren’t behaving the way they should be. I think it’s the love magic. It’s gone wrong along with everything else, and I think it’s affecting Hari and Tinbit.”
“You’re certain of that?”
“People can’t fall in love in a week! That’s not natural.”
“I suppose—”
“Which means we need to find Amber and the dragon as soon as we can. If we can get everyone back together where the magic went awry, we might be able to fix this for everybody, including Hari and Tinbit. But the longer they think they’re in love, the worse it will hurt when magic ends. We need to hurry and get this sorted out.”
“You’ll get no argument from me there.”
“They have to be told, of course.” She sighed.
Not something he was looking forward to. “Yes, I think that is probably best. It may help with the aftermath. I only wish ithadn’t happened at all. Tinbit is rather prone to falling in love. He will take it hard.”
“Hari, too, but it wouldn’t be fair to let them think it’s real.” Ida sounded sad. “It’s depressing, really. I’d like to see Hari settle down with a nice gnome.”
“I’ve wanted the same thing for Tinbit.”
