Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 136009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Kerrigan didn’t know and braced herself for the worst as she took Fordham’s hand and stepped through the divide.
None of the trappings of their previous encounter were present on the other side of the barrier. There was no castle or elaborate gardens or eternal fountain this time. Just a long, winding dirt walkway that led through a bramble of woods to the front door of a small château with smoke curling up from a fireplace.
The cold winter didn’t break through Titania’s unending magic, and their giant, fur-lined cloaks were replaced with festive attire. Fordham was in a black suit with a black cravat at his throat. Pink still tinged his cheeks from the wind, but his hair was swept back off his face, and he looked radiant.
Kerrigan’s dress was a sparkly green gown that had live flowers in spring pink, lavender, and white threaded through the narrow sleeves, down the bodice, and across the large skirt. Her curly hair had been secured in a magnificent updo with errant white blossoms and live butterflies.
“Well, at least I look fantastic,” Kerrigan said, twirling in her gown.
“You always do.”
“Not the welcome I was expecting though.”
“I never know what to expect from her.” He gestured toward the dirt road. “Shall we?”
Kerrigan took his arm, and together they entered the wood. It felt almost immediately as if it swallowed them whole. There was no exit out of these woods, and there never had been. There was only the cottage before them and the witch who lived within.
They reached the end of the road, and Fordham knocked on the front door. Kerrigan jutted her chin out and squared her shoulders. She was prepared for whatever was coming. She could do this.
The door creaked open, but the room appeared to be empty. No beautiful, ethereal Fae sitting before the fire.
“Hello?” Fordham called, peeking his head inside.
No one answered.
“Should we?” she asked.
He shrugged. “We were invited.”
They crossed the threshold hesitantly, as if expecting the room to shift once more, but nothing happened. They just entered Titania’s empty abode.
“Titania?” Kerrigan all but whispered. “We got your letter.”
The cottage room was warm and cozy. The fire had clearly been tended. An embroidery hoop sat abandoned nearby. A tray of tarts was untouched. Tea still had steam swirling out of the top of a kettle. Someone had been here recently.
“Hello, darlings,” a voice said from the door.
Kerrigan whipped around to find Titania with a pile of firewood in her thin arms. Fordham hastened forward to take it out of her hands.
“Please allow me,” he said.
“That is very kind of you,” Titania said, offering him a smile.
Kerrigan felt faint at the look. Titania was otherworldly beautiful, as if she had been cast out of stars and made out of jewels. She was almost hard to look at, her smile so precious that tears nearly came to Kerrigan’s eyes at the sight.
Fordham placed the firewood in a rack next to the fireplace. He tended the fire almost absentmindedly, as if he too needed to get Titania’s smile out of his vision.
Titania dusted debris off her slender arms. She was in a simple dress, especially in comparison to what her magic had attired Kerrigan and Fordham in, but she didn’t need anything to showcase her beauty. She just was. In every way. Her hair was the color of goldenrod, her irises a clear summer sky, her mouth the pouty red of a rose bloom, her skin as fair as fresh snow, her voice melodic and hypnotizing.
“Can you pour the tea, dear?” Titania said.
Kerrigan nodded. There were three cups. She hadn’t noticed that before. Titania had already known they were coming and would be here any moment. How had she known?
Titania sank into a seat as Kerrigan poured the tea for the three of them. She passed her a cup and then poured tea into the other two. She took one to Fordham and had the other in her hand when Titania motioned for them to sit. There was another seat just large enough for two to sit in across from her.
“You received my letter,” Titania said pleasantly as she sipped her tea.
“We did,” Fordham said with a head bob. “It was most generous of you to invite us.”
“Would you like a tart?” Titania asked.
Kerrigan looked at the beautiful tarts. Each had a little rose cut out of the center, revealing the red filling beneath. She reached for one almost without her own free will, even though she knew eating or drinking from Titania had had disastrous effects last time.
Fordham placed a hand on her arm before she brought it to her lips. “Are these safe to eat?”
Titania laughed, a tinkling sound that made them both lean forward. “Why yes, of course. I made them myself.”
Kerrigan relaxed and bit into the pastry, which crumbled into her mouth with a burst of flavor. It was the most incredible thing she had ever tasted—buttery and strawberry with a hint of rose. Decadent and delicious.