There’s absolutely no way I’ll pull this off. As I watch the servants outside my window setting up for the ceremony, I realize how far I’m in over my head.
There are ice sculptures situated all around. And these aren’t even simple ice sculptures. These are giant horses and bears, fish jumping out of water. Not only that, but there are a thousand tables set up and each one has golden plates on it. Plates made ofgold. I’m not even kidding.
My family might be well-known in the witch world, but we aren’t wealthy. We eat off Fiestaware.
I think I’m going to be sick.
So I take a deep breath and think. I’ve got to have a plan for the ceremony. Okay, I’m bound to Feylin with this joining magic, and we’re supposed to work together to make the tree do whatever it’s going to do. So maybe, just maybe, if I focus on trying to summon my magic (yes, I know it’s never worked before, but I’ve also never been spelled like this before), it’ll come and the ceremony will be successful.
It’s the best plan I’ve got.
A quiet knock comes from the door. “Come in.”
Ophelia enters, beaming. “My la—Miss Thornrose, your family’s here to see you.”
“Where?”
“Downstairs in the sunroom.”
“Yay!” I’m so happy that I could hug her. “I’ll follow you.”
The sunroom’s just off the main hallway and is painted a cheery white and lemon yellow with tall windows that overlook the garden.
Ovie, Blair and Chelsea are seated and looking uncomfortable. They’re all dressed for fall in high boots and oversize comfy sweaters. Sweat sprinkles Ovie’s brow, and she tugs at the collar of her cable-knit.
They stand when I enter and rush over to me.
“You look great,” Ovie says loudly as she sweeps me into a hug. Did she think I would look awful?
We separate and I say, “Is Mama?—”
“Busy,” Blair tells me before pulling me into her arms. “Nana walks tomorrow, so there’s a lot to prepare.”
A knot jams up my throat. “It’s tomorrow?”
I was just talking to my grandmother a couple of days ago, but a world of change has happened since then.
“She’ll walk in the afternoon,” Ovie clarifies.
“I’ll bring refreshments,” Ophelia says from the doorway.
I hate to put her to more work. Everyone’s so busy with the ceremony. “No, that’s okay.”
She smiles broadly. “I’m happy to. I’ll be right back.”
She leaves the four of us alone. We sit and Chelsea squeezes my hand. “Everyone here is so beautiful,” she says with awe.
Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. Chelsea’s gorgeous with blonde hair, creamy skin, a round face and plump lips.
But she’s also right. “Their good looks are a little intimidating, aren’t they?”
She smoothes a hand down the herringbone braid draped over her shoulder. “I thought Feylin was handsome, but theyallare. It’s part of being fae, I guess.”
“I guess.”
“How are…things?” Ovie asks, eyes taking in all the scenery.
“They’re good. The servants are very nice.”
