“No, that was a reminder. Of what you are to me.”
“You don’t own me, Bertie.”
“Thank the stars for that. Can you imagine?”
No, I could not. I shuddered.
“However, you owe me a debt for not turning you in for burglary.”
A family of four squeezed past us, one of the men, with a baby strapped to his chest glanced at me, tapped his husband’s arm, and pointed at me.
I pivoted, and moved out of the middle of the sidewalk toward the building where there was a little more privacy.
“What do you want, Bertie? What,” I clarified with one finger raised, “favor?”
She exhaled with so much obvious exasperation it almost made me smile.
“Wear a bloody dress. That’s it. That’s all I ask. Put on a dress and attend the crowning ceremony. I don’t expect you to stand out from the crowd, but I want you there because I am expecting many of the tourists to have already left by that time, or be inside the restaurants for their evening meals, or down on the beach watching the sunset.”
“You’re afraid people aren’t going to attend the closing ceremony?”
“Of course not.”
But there was the angle of her chin—stubborn—and the restlessness of her hands clasping and unclasping. She was worried. Worried the event wouldn’t end the way she wanted. Worried it wouldn’t bring the tourists back. Or maybe just worried she wouldn’t get featured as the main article on the local paper’s web pages.
Or: “Is this about Robyn in Boring?”
“That soft-claw sister of mine thinks she’s the height of class. I’ll show her Ordinary has so much class she can shove Boring right up her—”
“I’ll wear a dress!”
Her shoulders immediately lowered, and she nodded. “Of course you will. Good. I will see you at the pavilion at exactly six o’clock. No later.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“You will also be there,” she told Hogan.
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
Bertie gave us both one last look, probably to decide if we were lying, then smoothed her hands down the riot of lace and flowers. “Excellent.” She surveyed the crowd around us, found her next target, and was off.
“So, see you at the crowning, eh?” he asked.
“I guess so.”
* * *
The day got warmer, the crowd switched from hot tea to iced, and pastries became ice creams and sorbets and bonbons.
Everyone was too blissed out on all the free sugar to cause any problems, and other than traffic—both foot and vehicle—being about triple what we usually got on a pretty Saturday in October, everything was buzzing along like normal.
I still hadn’t seen Myra or Jean, though Hatter waved at me from where he was carefully rescuing a kid’s balloon out of a tree.
I looked for Ryder, too, but he was absent. I wanted to be angry at him for that, but all I felt was a sort of acceptance. He had pledged his fealty to Mithra, and that god would do anything to make sure my life was complicated, messy, and…lonely. Unless I gave Mithra rule over Ordinary.
Since I would never do that, I had to get comfortable with a relationship that was complicated, messy, and sometimes lonely.
* * *
