“I dunno. Whatever’s normal for any royalty.”
“Very well.” Mrs. Wentzel pursed her lips. “I’ll prepare something suitable.”
“You’re a lifesaver.” I released a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Truly the backbone of this whole operation.”
“Save the flattery for your mother,” she replied, but I caught the slight upward twitch of her lips. “Now, unless you’re planning to help knead this dough, make yourself useful elsewhere. And be sure to warn Lady Seri.”
Seri! Bleeding night.
“Right. Yeah. Warn Seri. And Cas. And Ko.” I backed toward the door, nearly tripping over Brumster. “Thanks again, Mrs. W. You’re the best.”
“Mm-hmm. Out.” She shooed me away.
I headed for the door, thinking of all the preparations needed before sunset, and Brumsy trotted beside me, his tail still wagging.
Guests! Excited!he yodeled, oblivious to my mounting panic.
“Yeah, buddy. Excited. That’s one word for it.” I ruffled the fur between his ears.
One crisis averted. Twenty-eight more to go. Piece of cake.
Or, more accurately, piece of my ass if this went sideways.
#
By lunch, I was fidgeting worse than a squirrel in a thunderstorm. My leg bounced so hard under the table that Cas shot me his patented “cease and desist” glare twice before resorting to a swift kick to my shin. The silverware rattled with each nervous tap of my fingers, and I’d rearranged my whole plate three times without actually taking a bite. Not that anyone would notice my weirdness… except my two overprotective brothers and my disturbingly perceptive wife.
“Zane, you’ve been staring at that tomato slice for five minutes.” Seri’s voice cut through my spiral. “Is something wrong with it?”
“Hmm?” I looked up, blinking like I’d just been caught doing something illegal. Which, given my past, was not an unfamiliarsensation. “No, it’s a perfectly respectable tomato. Top-tier. Gold medal tomato.”
“You’re not talking.” Ko’s eyebrow arched with suspicion.
“I talk all the time! I’m the designated talker of this family.” I gestured wildly with my fork. “I’m talking right now! Words coming out of my mouth, see?”
“You haven’t made a single pop culture reference in twenty minutes,” Cas noted, setting down his water glass. “No movie quotes. No vampire puns. Not even an inappropriate joke about the cucumber in your sandwich.”
Under the combined weight of their stares, I cracked like an egg dropped from the roof.
“Mum’s coming for dinner tonight to meet Seri!”
Silence. Cas froze with his sandwich halfway to his mouth. Koa’s glass stopped mid-air. Seri’s eyes widened to the size of her plate.
“Your mother?” A smile was beginning to bloom across her face. “Queen Doria Starling?”
“The one and only. Bringing her royal consort along for the ride, too.”
“Tonight?” Cas’s voice had that dangerously calm quality it gets when he’s recalculating plans mid-battle.
“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Koa reached for his phone, probably to check perimeter security or whatever paranoid thing he did whenever visitors were coming.
“Because I only found out an hour ago! Air sprite.” I flapped my hand in the vague shape of wings. “Slapped me in the face with her royal decree while I was in the orchard with Brummy.”
“Oh, I can’t wait to meet her!” Seri lit up like someone had flipped a switch inside her, all sunshine and wonder where there should have been dread.
The three of us stared at her. She was excited. Genuinely, bouncing-in-her-seatexcited. As if meeting the living embodiment of a thunderstorm was something to look forward to.
“What’s she like? Is she tall like you? Does she have red hair, too? How long has she been queen? Do you see her often? Does she know about—” Seri gestured to the four of us. “I mean, obviously she knows we’re married, but does she know how we all met? And what should I call her? Your Majesty? Queen Doria? Ms. Starling?”
