With all her powers, couldn’t Sorrel have just...rung my doorbell and explained who she was? Even if my world was paused while I was here—or I was zapped back moments after leaving—that phone call was going to have ramifications on my job at Tempo.
You’re probably wondering why I made that call. Well, Dottie, you can summon me anytime in Landsome, but Earth doesn’t have much foundational magic. I needed you to open a book at the library and I’d been waiting for a month before I decided to take matters into my own hands.
With the TV show in production, we almost ran out of time! We wouldn’t have been able to change the story unless another film adaptation was made and that could have been decades. You’d have spent all that time a sad, loveless lady!
You see why my hand was forced to action.
I’m sure you’re not mad because you’re enjoying yourself so much.
As a fan of the series myself, may I make one suggestion?
MORE ROMANCE, please.
Magically,
Your Fairy Bookmother,
The Wondrous Sorrel
That’s what was so important that Sorrel had to send a letter through an interdimensional boundary? To remind me I was as good as fired when I got back, all thanks to her?
My cheeks were warm, and I felt the secondhand embarrassment again of that phone call, of Sara’s directive that I not come to work until she talked to her uncle, our boss. I’d done a good job compartmentalizing my work faux pas and being magically teleported to another world, but this was too much.
I wished I was in bed. Not the thin mat and blanket inside my tent but a real bed. Maybe not my bed at home because I wasn’t ready to leave Landsome, but the appeal of camping had been slight to begin with and was now suddenly wearing thin. I needed a real bed so I could pull a blanket over my head and try to drown out the memory of Sara interrogating me over the phone.
More romance, please.
Like I was running around Landsome for her own enjoyment. If Sorrel had wanted me to strew romance across the queendom like a bookish cupid, she shouldn’t have dropped me in the middle of a war.
I reread the letter, fuming when a voice spoke at my neck.
“What’s that?”
I startled.
Ironclaw.
He was bent at the waist to read over my shoulder. I jerked the letter with my Fairy Bookmother’s confession to my chest.
“That’s private,” I snarled and tucked it in my pocket. I hadn’t spoken to him since the stream on our way to Sage Ravine, and I was completely unprepared to talk to him now, especially with no warning.
“Private,” Ironclaw repeated. “I believe you were going to pass on private information to me.”
He came around to stand in front of me, his crotch level with my face.
I bolted up from the stool.
He only looked back, waiting for a response.
I tried to tamp down my frustration with him. It wasn’t Ironclaw’s fault I hadn’t shown that night in Sage Ravine. Or that I’d given him certain impressions...because I totally had.
“I’m sorry I didn’t meet you that night. I grew busy with something else.”
Ironclaw was still closer than comfortable, so I angled the stool between us as naturally as I could. His hair was tied back, long strands loose from riding. Instead of looking disheveled, he was easily as handsome as if he’d been in hair and makeup all day. Queen Elthra’s beauty was extraordinary, but Ironclaw’s handsome eyes, well-sculpted jaw, and pristine stubble could hold their own. His rugged look did nothing to dispel the tension in his stance though. He was looking at me as if I were an untrustworthy weasel. A miscreant.
His voice was low. “You mean you grew busy with someone else.”
I frowned. “That’s not any of your business.”
