Page 48 of Knightfall
Wyle raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
I did not answer. I was not going to explain myself to the castle mage. “This is confidential, correct, Wyle? She still has the spell set on you so you’ll explode if you betray the royal family’s secrets?”
“I—I … she put a spell on me?” Wyle sounded indignant.
“Of course, she does it to all of us,” I patted his hand. “Are there any other controlling spells on my husbands that need to be lifted?”
“Does a spell compelling them to forgive you count?”
Disgust flooded me. My hands fisted and I accidentally ripped the penis page. “What?! Yes. Yes, that would count, Wyle. Please dispose of that one, too.”
“I might need to consult the Queen.”
I tilted my head. I gave him the look I’d perfected to fend off every farmhand for three miles when I’d worked in a field three summers past. A look that had sent the farm boys running back to their mothers. “Or, you could undo themwithouttelling her.”
“Or that. Of course, that.” Wyle gently extracted his precious book from my hands. He eyed the page I’d ripped and gave a tiny moan.
“Sorry I ripped your penis. I’ll get it fixed.”
“No need, Your Highness. I have a spell for that.”
“Of course you do.”
He petted the page gently, muttered something, sprinkled a bit of ash, and the book repaired itself. I only hoped his skills would be as successful with my husbands.
Wyle tried to hustle me over to the chair where Willard was sitting. But my mother’s distance spell-curse wouldn’t let me walk that far.
“Do you mind if we do this over here?” I smiled.
The two men blinked at me dumbly, though it should have been obvious to Wyle why I couldn’t move.
“My skin has just been really sensitive the last few days. I don’t think I should be standing in direct sunlight.” I fluttered my eyelashes, feeling like an absolute idiot.
I bet you look like an absolute idiot.
Shut it.
Of course, the two men complied with the request of the crown princess.
Willard dragged his chair over and sat next to where I stood, absolutely reeking of sweat.
I secretly wished I’d also asked for a spell to deal with that scent. If I’d been my mother, I probably would have.
As it was, I watched Wyle link our hands. He squeezed two lemons and trickled the juice over fingers. Then he lit a rose on fire and blew it out before the flames reached the stem. Finally, he muttered a few words in a language I didn’t know.
“Is that all?” I asked.
Wyle nodded, his goggles falling down his face to thunk against his chest.
I turned to Willard. “I’m the youngest daugh—” I couldn’t lie and say I was Avia. The mage oath must be active. “Try to say you are from Sedara, please.”
“I’m from—I can’t,” he marveled.
“Good. Now, Wyle, please leave us. Take whatever you need to complete those tasks I’ve given you.”
Wyle’s eyes opened wide, His mouth gaped. With his beaky nose and wild hair, he looked like a startled bird. But he knew better than to protest. He gathered some books and ingredients and was on his way.
I turned back to Willard. “You have the floor.”
