“I won’t be here next week.I have an assignment,” I said.
“The Witch Committee assignment?That shouldn’t take too long, right?”
I sighed.“It’s going to take two weeks.”
“And then what?You’ll reopen your shop?”
“I don’t think that’s likely.I hardly have any customers.”
“But you were the royal seamstress!”
“No one remembers my name.”
“How is that possible?”Maddox asked.“It’s only been a few months!”
“Because people believe what they want to believe,” I groaned.“Maddox.Why are you wearingshoeson the bed?”
I kicked his legs off.
“Hey!”He reached for a pillow and threw it at me.
I was about to throw it back when the door creaked open.The serving maid from yesterday stood at the threshold, a pitcher of water and a towel in her hands.
“Oh!Miss Giselle,” she said, wide-eyed as she took in the scene before her.Maddox was still reclined on the bed beside me, shoes and all.Her eyes flicked to the incriminating romance novel on the floor.“I-I’ll come back later, miss.”
She bobbed a quick curtsy and scampered off down the hall.
I shoved the pillow in Maddox’s face.
By the time dinner rolled around, I had heard enough bits of servant gossip to string together the story that had been circulating about me: I was a farm girl turned courtesan who caught Maddox’s eye, and he had swept me away from an unwanted marriage and planned to make me his mistress.
“That’s a fantastic premise for a romance novel,” Maddox said brightly when I told him.
I rolled my eyes.
A part of me wondered whether becoming a nobleman’s mistress would be a better life after all.There would be few worries and plenty of comforts.But there would be amanto contend with, and who knew if any of them would want a witch as a mistress?I sighed.What a shame.
“So what is this assignment, anyway?”Maddox asked, sitting cross-legged on the floor of the cat nursery.For some bizarre reason, he had proposed we take dinner there, cat hair and all.The kittens were in the corner having their own meal in porcelain bowls, which were color coordinated to the silk ribbons tied around their necks.
I forked a piece of potato and ate it slowly.The abbey’s cook was certainly skilled.The vegetable was buttery and perfectly seasoned, crispy on the outside and soft on the inside.“Showing an emissary Witch Village,” I mumbled through my mouthful.
Maddox paused.“Really?I thought you said you were never going back.”
I pursed my lips, surprised that he had remembered what I’d said in passing when I first opened my dress shop.
“Things didn’t go as planned, clearly,” I said, looking around the pastel green walls of the nursery.A line of cats was painted underneath the scalloped wainscotting all along the perimeter of the room.
Stormi and Dima had finished their dinner and made their way to Maddox’s side.He petted them each attentively, then returned to his meal.It seemed he knew a few things about kitten rearing after all.
“You never told me why you don’t want to go back,” he said.
“No.I didn’t.”I wasn’t comfortable sharing that with anyone.
He blinked.After a beat, he said, “So, human emissary.Do you know who it is?”
“Probably some old man.”
“Maybe I can be the emissary,” Maddox said.“I want to see Witch Village.”
