“I heard you could do that!” Simon accused.
“This is what I actually look like,” Leo explained. “But I have to keep up the royal appearance.”
Rory pointed to Evelyn. “This is how you’ve seen him this whole time? That explains a few things.”
“But”—Evelyn turned to Damien—“why couldn’t I see the illusions right after the wedding? Or even yesterday in Pointe-Rosemère?”
Leo frowned. “You went to the city yesterday?”
Damien shrugged. “Maybe your body needed a couple days to figure out how the illusions work. Or…” He trailed off, an odd expression overtaking his face as he thought through something.
“Damien?” Evelyn prompted.
He blinked and the expression cleared. “Maybe coming here strengthened your magic. Who knows?”
“When did it start?” Leo asked.
“I was dancing with Damien and I could hear the music he made,” Evelyn recounted.
“Why were you dancing with Damien?”
Shit. I should have modified that story.
“She was being a brat, so I made her dizzy as punishment,” Damien lied. “I think that means I get all the credit for her Perceptual magic developing today.”
“No, you don’t,” Evelyn argued.
“Why not? You were touching me when your magic kicked in. I must be something special.”
“Maybe it was a warning to stay away from you!”
“You would miss me.”
“You just called me a brat!”
“You are a brat.”
“You’re an asshole,” Evelyn snapped.
Damien smirked. “Love you too, Princess.”
“Fontaine,” Leo warned.
Evelyn blushed, having forgotten her husband was there.
Being a wife is not coming to me as naturally as I’d hoped.
Leo was glowing again, the illusion hiding his true features but not his frustration.
Damien was unapologetic. “Yes, Your Majesty?”
“We haven’t tried Aromatic magic yet,” Simon interrupted. “Josephine could help us with that.”
“That’s a great idea!” Evelyn agreed. “Leo?”
The king was still glaring at a grinning Damien.
“Leo!” Evelyn repeated. “Let’s go!”
