“Don’t finish that sentence.”
“Ash! Stop teasing her,” Lady Marianna scolded. “We were talking about desserts.”
Prince Ash popped a puff pastry into his mouth, wiping the crumbs on his waistcoat. “You should try the raspberry tarts. Amarante gave me the recipe. They’re heavenly.”
The three of us spent the next thirty minutes tasting the desserts. Mother would have never allowed me to eat so many sweets at once, and for good reason. Though I felt nauseated by the end of it, I rather enjoyed the warm atmosphere and Lady Marianna and Prince Ash’s banter.
At last, we narrowed it down to three dishes—honey-glazed puff pastries, sugar-dusted raspberry tarts, and pumpkin pie baked to golden-brown perfection.
“It’s your call, Narcissa,” Lady Marianna said.
I chose the last without hesitation, though for purely selfish reasons. I hadn’t tasted a pumpkin pie since the tour began. If Crown Prince Bennett were as impassive as Lady Marianna said, he would have no issue with it.
Prince Ash reached for his tenth puff pastry. “Perfect. We’ll surprise Bennett with it tomorrow night.”
“His birthday is tomorrow?” I said, alarmed.
Lady Marianna nodded, clearing off the counter with a smile. “He’s turning twenty-one. Doesn’t time fly?”
Younger than Maddox. Somehow I always assumed the crown prince was older from the way he carried himself.
I excused myself shortly after and returned to my room, charged with energy from the sweets. I had to finish the shirt today.
Misty wasn’t present, though a glance out the window showed her perusing the yard with Pippin. I didn’t have time to dwell on their newfound friendship before pouring myself into sewing.
It was midnight when I knocked on Giselle’s door. The witch was miraculously awake, surrounded by piles of fabric and half-drafted patterns. There were dark circles under her eyes, which I was sure matched mine.
She took the shirt and inspected it. In the dim light, it looked like a misshapen bedsheet.
“You didn’t finish any of the seams,” she said accusingly, picking off a loose thread.
I nursed my throbbing fingers. “Does it matter? He can still wear it.”
Giselle sighed and pulled out her own needle and thread. “Give me a minute.”
Quite literally a minute later, Giselle had the seams neatly felled. She folded the shirt, tied it off with a velvet ribbon, and gave it back to me. “I’m sure Benny boy will be thrilled,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “Off to bed with you now.”
Despite being blissfully done with the shirt, sleep did not overtake me immediately. I spent a good two hours staring at the ribboned bundle in the dark, wondering how I could possibly give it to him, if at all. Would Giselle know if I didn’t? The only reason I bothered with this was because of the overbearing seamstress.
***
THE NEXT MORNING WASa strange one. Breakfast was quieter than usual, the silverware making more noise than the people. Crown Prince Bennett excused himself halfway through, claiming to have unfinished paperwork.
“He’s always like this on his birthday,” Prince Ash whispered to me after the crown prince left the table. “He avoids us like we’re about to spring a surprise party on him.”
“We won’t,” Lady Marianna said, smiling at my questioning look. “Let him busy himself all he wants. Tonight he’s getting a home-cooked meal and pumpkin pie. And a gift from you, I heard.”
The embellishment on my plate suddenly became very interesting. Horsefeathers. I had no choice but to give it to him now that everyone knew.
“It’s nothing special, Lady Marianna,” I said stiffly, arranging my eggs to the center of the plate.
Her eyes glimmered with mirth. “Please, dear, call me aunt. You are going to be my niece-in-law.”
Ulysses came down soon after to inform me of today’s events. We were going to the Vandil witch market to inspect the popular fabric shop the textile merchants favored.
“Dress warmly, milady. I have a feeling it may rain,” he said.
We set off for the city with a few guards. Besides speaking with Ulysses about the schedule, Crown Prince Bennett spent the trip stone-faced and silent. I had never seen someone look so dismal on their birthday—with the exception of myself.
