Page 10 of The Crown of a Fallen Queen
“So soon,” I murmur.
Maxine grunts. “Now, don’t start. I’m a grown woman.”
Mabel purses her lips together. “What about asking Devi to vet the union first, darling? Like we talked about?”
“No!” Maxine glowers, her sharp green eyes darkening with a hint of magic, the temperamental witch about to lose her grip over her unstable powers. “I don’t want any magic involved.”
“Wouldn’t you prefer to know now if the love arrow wasn’t strong enough for your marriage to last?” Mabel insists.
Maxine holds a decided finger in the air. “Please, Devi. Don’t use your magic. And I don’t want to hear another word about love arrows.”
I don’t have to use my magic to know that her marriage won’t last. One look at her was enough. But I know when and where to keep my mouth shut.
“My lips are sealed.” I pick up my tea cup and blow on the steam rising out of the amber, honey-glazed liquid.
“Your eyes say everything,” she mumbles. “You obviously disapprove.”
I hold my arms up in surrender. “Freckles, I’m butting out of your love life. I promise.”
If I’ve learned one thing about mortals, it’s that they don’t like to be told bad news—especially when it concerns their fiancé. Fae distrust mortal love as a rule. Most attachments in this realm are formed because of an archer’s meddling, but Maxine is only half-fae. She doesn’t know any better. And mortal marriages can be dissolved, unlike ours.
“Well, I’m famished. How about I cook us all some fried eggs?” she offers, the hot-blooded young witch struggling to stay idle for more than a minute, desperate to change the subject.
“I have some sausages in the fridge upstairs. Go nuts.”
Maxine climbs the narrow stairs two at a time, entering my loft.
Mabel leans in close to my ear. “Tell me the truth about thisloveof hers,” she asks in a tired wince.
Percy’s wings flutter at his back the way they always do when he’s negotiating the narrow path between his morals and his bottomless hunger for gossip. “If Max doesn’t want us to meddle, we should talk about something else.”
I throw Percy and Mabel a wink. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”
Percy suppresses a smile, the corners of his mouth tilting upward despite his efforts. “But this stays between us three.”
Mabel grins at my Faeling. “Of course, little man.”
“Their marriage won’t last,” I reveal on an apologetic grimace. “The love arrows used by the archer were subpar.”
Mabel curses under her breath. “By the Dark One, the arrow carvers are really getting sloppy without you.”
“Bad romances might just drain the mortal world of hope if that usurper isn’t careful.” This botched job wouldn’t have been tolerated under my watch. “Using a side-notched arrowhead to try and make up for the flimsy shaft was just plain stupid. They’re bound to cut deeper in one person than the other. Mortals need flings and memorable heartbreak as well as true love, but they don’t need damaging, asymmetrical entanglements. Maxine got hit pretty hard, but I doubt her fiancé fared the same.”
Mabel’s wrinkled hand clenches around the porcelain handle of my roses-and-crowns tea set. “You have to tell her.”
Percy’s eyes bulge, and he opens his mouth to protest, but I beat him to the punch.
“And have my head bitten off? I don’t think so,” I grumble. “Maxine was very clear with her boundaries, and I won’t alienate herweeksbefore her wedding. I’m her Faerie Godmother.”
Mabel huffs at my attempt tobe modern, as she calls it. “Despite the liberties she’s taken with her life, she’s meant to lead the coven one day. And contrary to what you both seem to believe, I won’t live forever.”
A knowing smile tugs at my lips. “You still have decades to live.”
“Even you can’t make an old, destitute queen live forever. I need to know Max is ready to face her responsibilities, and tying herself to a mortal man who has no idea who she really is—that’s reckless.”
Though she’s much older than I am, Mabel and I are kindred souls. And we’ve both long-forgotten what it’s like to feel young.
“Max was born and raised here, in the new world. She doesn’t know anything different.”
