Page 65 of Wickedly Ever After
“You mean this foolishnessispart of your spell?” Hector asked. “You didn’t tell me?”
“Well, I assumed any Cardinal Witch would have a good grasp of history! Love at first sight is one of the best ways to counter initial dislike—it’s like getting a person to eat that dreadful inn breakfast by starving them first! They’d never do it if they weren’t sure they’d die of hunger if they didn’t. They’d be more logical about the whole thing.”
“What about that?” Cear asked. “Could the logic of their choice be used to separate them as their love cools? A human may not bear eggs. A dragon may not give seed for a child.”
Ida sighed. “When people fall in love, it takes a great deal to convince them it isn’t wise, even when it’s not caused by magic.”
Hari shuddered.
Cear fell silent.
“But that’s what we will do,” Hector said.
Ida’s eyes met his, and in her gaze he saw the same concern. What if they couldn’t separate Alistair and Amber? What if they had fallen victim to the same love magic that had caused Hari and Tinbit such grief? He could comfort Tinbit like she could comfort Hari, but he somehow doubted that talking a dragon out of a strong magical infatuation would be a safe and rewarding experience for anyone. But he’d have to find a way. If he didn’t, he was as doomed as Happily-Ever-After.
30
Ida
Following the Morning After, there may be a lull in the couple’s romantic feelings for each other. This is normal and an encouraging sign. Initial obsession and magical attraction must give way to a more permanent and lasting affection.
The real magic of Happily-Ever-After isn’t the spells and manipulations of Witches. It’s the moment when a couple looks at each other and decides to go forward into the unknown together, not through the compulsion of magic or the desires of their own bodies, but by the desire of their hearts—to discover each other purely for the pleasure of the adventure.
(Editor—redact last paragraph. I’m wallowing in my feelings again.)
Magic and Mischief—A Thousand Years of Happily-Ever-After: A Memoir
Ida North
Ida had expected a traditional Dark Tower, a crown of thorns building designed to repel all invaders with a few pokey windows in a black granite keep—a true fortress of evil. It didn’t disappoint.
Hector’s castle stood in the foothills of the Dread Mountains, and if it wasn’t on a barren plain full of fuming pits and bare rock, it was at least flanked by deep, dark pine forests on a verdant hill overgrown with brambles and thorns.
“How forbidding,” she said, seriously impressed.
Hector blushed. “Thank you. I’ve worked hard to make it so.”
They passed under the arch and into his courtyard. A canopy of black flowers with thin gray leaves and footlong thorns covered the stone walls. A strong rose odor filled the coach when Hector opened the door, overpowering in its intensity.
“The black rose?” Ida stepped out of the coach on her own, refusing to take the coachman’s helping hand. He looked so old, she feared his fingers might fall off.
“They’ve naturalized here now,” Hector said. “Locals call it Skeleton Rose. They make a formidable barrier plant—the thorns are tipped with poison and the roses emit a sleeping draught when they open at night. Most useful for insomnia in the summer. And of course, the fragrance can be concentrated into a very useful forgetfulness spell. Can turn a knight right around and make him forget all about why he decided to storm my castle. I haven’t needed ‘no trespassing’ signs in an age.”
“They’re beautiful.” On their long, silver stems, the tiny roses glittered like obsidian droplets, and she breathed in the fragrance, feeling the sleepiness Hector had spoken of, but something else too, a deep sense of peace and pleasure, not unlike the feeling she’d had in his arms. Guiltily, she glanced back at Hector. “In a completely horrible way, of course.”
“Horribly beautiful is the very essence of wickedness. Shall we go in?” He offered her his arm. When had that gone out of style? Eight hundred years ago?
She took his arm anyway.
Inside proved no less dark and devastating than the outside. Long torches of everlasting flame lit the hall with a smoky light, reflecting in the black stone and creating a sense of disorientation. Two shining skeletons waited, both with identical welcoming grins, one holding a tray with a flask and two silver cups, the other with hands folded in front of its pelvis. It bowed to Hector as he came in, and he handed it his staff. “Thank you. The place looks wonderful,” he said.
Skeletons couldn’t show much in the way of appreciation, but Ida swore the red light in their eyes warmed. The first poured two glasses full of the liquid from the flask and handed one to Hector. It gave the other to Ida with a respectful dip of its head.
“Oh, I’m sorry, my manners,” Hector said, waving his free hand in Ida’s direction. “This is her Goodness, Ida North.”
A grating, spine-chilling noise came from the first skeleton’s teeth. Ida almost spilled her drink.
Hector nodded. “Yes, the guest bedroom overlooking the gardens will be perfect. Spiders in the bed won’t be necessary—you may dismiss them.”
