Eugene pecks my boot. I set Hamish down and pick her sister up. “And you are still the most beautiful. I missed you too.” Eugene blinks and pecks my nose. I smile as I put her down.
“These are our quarters,” Gwyneth says.
I blink. “Ours?”
She nods. “The Living Library provides for those who protect it.” She points to another open doorway. “That’s your chamber.”
Chamber. One. I suppose we could take turns, a rolling schedule of who gets the bed. My face heats a little at the thought. Hopefully, they’re soundproof.
Theo snorts, and everyone turns to look at him. His eyes dance with mirth as he shakes his head.
Charming reappears with a shawl in hand and wraps it around my sister’s shoulders. I glare at the ease between them,and then at the chamber doorway. Do they share a chamber? She can stay with me if that’s the case.
We need a sister talk, free from the sausage fest surrounding us. I grab her hand and wave over my shoulder. “Girl talk. No sausage allowed unless it’s edible. Then give us a holler.” I stride into the chambers she declared were mine—ours—and slam the door closed in the faces of four knights and one confused prince.
“What in the Blazes, Daphne?” she huffs.
I point at her. “Sit and explain everything to me about why Charming is fetching shawls from your chambers.” She blushes drops onto the edge of a huge bed. I’ll need to circle back to that well thought out and practical item later.
“Things have changed,” she whispers. “You were gone.”
“I know. But him? Anyone but him, surely?”
She shrugs and blows out a breath. “It just happened.”
“Was there enchanted footwear involved?”
“No.”
“Drugs?”
“Not this time.”
“A love potion?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
I throw my hands up. “You could have anyone in the realm. You’re smart—smarter than smart. And more beautiful than any princess could ever hope to be, even without the horrible unicorn horn glow-up.”
“Don’t judge me. Please, Daphne, I couldn’t stand it.”
I drop to my knees in front of her and clasp her hands in mine. “Hey, no, that’s not what I meant.” Our foreheads touch, both of our cheeks damp with tears. “I could never judge you. Blazes, I am the maiden juggling not one but four knights. Although none of them demanded I spend a night in their chambers, all because of some poorly designed footwear. But Iassume, if he is in your good graces, that he’s learning how to be better.”
“He is.”
“And you do love a project.”
She blows out a breath. “I do.”
I shrug. “And after we’ve finished fixing the Hallows, you’ll still need something to keep you busy.”
She chuckles. “Do me a favor?”
“Anything.”
She wriggles her hands free and cups my face. “Follow your heart, but please, for the love of me and those heartbroken knights, stop dying, drowning, or any other permutations of a future where you are not in it.”
“Deal. But about that.”
