Unless something disrupted those patterns.
The mistpape vine on the shelf had fully integrated with the sunstone plant now, their combined glow illuminating that corner of the greenhouse. Two utterly different species, thriving because they’d been convinced to try.
Elizabeth’s smile widened.
She moved to the center of the greenhouse, where a small bell hung from a flowering branch. It was tuned to a very specific magical frequency, one that only a few creatures could hear.
She rang it once.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then a chittering sound came from the rafters, followed by the rustle of leaves as a small creature bounded across the greenhouse’s roof.
Acorn landed on the workbench in a flurry of gray fur and twitching tail. Victoria’s companion squirrel studied Elizabeth with bright eyes, his head tilted in question.
“Hello, friend.” Elizabeth offered him a hazelnut from the jar she kept stocked. “I have a task for you, if you’re willing.”
Acorn accepted the nut, holding it between his paws while waiting for her to speak.
Elizabeth knelt so she was eye level with the squirrel. If Elizabeth wanted to help her granddaughter, she needed Acorn’s cooperation.
She leaned in close, keeping her voice low.
Acorn’s tail went still as he listened. After a moment, he made a series of chirps that managed to convey both understanding and exasperation.
“I know,” Elizabeth said. “She won’t like it. But she’ll need you more than ever in the coming months. You’ll help?”
The squirrel chattered again, this time with resignation. He grabbed two more hazelnuts from the jar, stuffed them in his cheeks, and bounded toward the greenhouse door.
Elizabeth flicked her fingers, opening the door with magic, and Acorn disappeared into the night.
What did you tell him?Grimble asked.
“That’s between me and the squirrel.”
You’re going to give Victoria gray hairs before her wedding even happens.
“She’ll forgive me when she realizes what I’ve done for her.” Elizabeth returned to the table, studying the tea leaves one more time. The patterns had settled now, showing a path that was neither straight nor simple but was definitely there. “All my granddaughters deserve happiness. They’ve just needed guidance finding it.”
The plants around her blazed with light, responding to her mood. The mistpape and sunstone glowed brighter. Rare night orchids that only bloomed once a decade unfurled their petals. Even the stubborn frost fern in the corner extended new fronds, its usual icy personality thawing.
Show-offs,Grimble huffed, but he sounded more amused than annoyed.
Elizabeth gathered her tea things, rinsing the cup and returning it to its shelf. The greenhouse would maintain itself while she prepared for the next phase. She had arrangements to make, a letter to write, and one very specific invitation to extend.
King Feral wouldn’t come willingly to discuss a marriage contract. He’d already shown his reluctance by leaving Sasha’s ball early. But there were other ways to bring a wolf king to heel, especially when that king’s animal side had already decided what it wanted.
“Two months,” she said aloud, more to herself than Grimble. “That’s plenty of time.”
“For disaster.”
“For magic and romance and everything wonderful to happen.”
She hurried toward the greenhouse exit but paused at the door. The combined glow of the mistpape and sunstone caught her eye one more time. They’d been separate for a very long time, each thriving in their own way. But together, they created something neither could make alone.
Victoria and Feral would squabble. They’d argue and resist and try every method possible to maintain their independence while fulfilling the marriage contract.
And through it all, Elizabeth would be watching, waiting for the moment when resistance changed into bliss.
The borders needed this alliance.
