Page 3 of This Is Not True Love’s Kiss

I turned, plastering a smile on my face. “Thank you, Margaret, but I need to get back to work now.” I shifted my gaze meaningfully toward my desk and walked back behind it, sitting down and staring at the document waiting for my signature.

Margaret’s hands floated to her cheeks. “Oh, of course. Before I go, do you have any messages you’d like me to send to the king? I’m going to His Majesty’s office right now.”

“No,” I said absently, distracted by what I was looking at.

My blood turned to fire as I stared at the scroll that I’d submitted for Lor’s signature. Yet the line where his signature was supposed to be was painfully empty. I couldn’t read the whole thing, but I knew what it said anyway because I’d asked my advisor to help me draft it.

Right then, the door to my office burst open, my advisor strolling in, tail flicking behind her as a pink bookwyrm followed.

“Meera,” I said to the faerie cat. “What is this?” I held up the scroll.

Morton slithered up beside Meera, his head perking up, his dragon wings flapping.

“I can eat it, if you’d like,” he said.

I inhaled deeply.

“Please don’t,” Meera said, round green eyes flicking toward the bookwyrm.

He huffed. “You’ve known me for nearly four years now. You’d think you’d be used to my magic.”

Magic left by the godwitches. Gifts for the mortals upon their departure from our world.

Morton was a little worm with a dragon’s head and wings. He also ate books, likely a gift left by the godwitch of knowledge. I’d always hated them. Every time they visited Fairwitch, they’d sneer at all the slaves, acting so much better than us.

“Well I haven’t gotten used to it,” Meera said, “and if you eat that bloody scroll in front of me, I’m going to vomit.”

Morton raised his head, glassy black eyes blinking. “I have to watch you spit up furballs, but you can’t handle me eating a book or a scroll? You do know that many value my magic.”

“Enough.” I rubbed my temples. “I don’t need you to eat this, Morton. I know its contents.” I swallowed back the reminder that Fair Folk weren’t taught to read, weren’t allowed, but Morton had been coming to give me lessons since I’d woken up two years ago. I’d made a lot of progress but not enough to read a complex document like this, but I did know enough to see the blank line where Lor had not signed his name.

I held it up and showed it to Meera. “Why didn’t Lor sign this?”

“Uh oh,” Margaret said from the painting while Morton’s tongue flicked out like he was nervous.

“You’d have to ask His Majesty,” Meera said in her lazy tone. I’d gone through five different advisors before finally finding Meera, who’d been with me for six months now.

The cat wasn’t afraid of me, not like all my other advisors, tiptoeing around, not really telling me what they thought. A little bit like Morton, who was currently frozen, staring at me with wide eyes like I might shoot fire out of my mouth at any moment.

Margaret still stood in the painting, arching her neck, no doubt wanting to see exactly what was on that scroll.

I stood from my desk and started pacing in front of the windows, already feeling that familiar prickle of anger on the back of my neck, once again because of something Lor had done. “Why wouldn’t he sign this? It’s not like I’m asking him to give up his crown. All I want is for our schedules to be rearranged.”

“Rearranged so that you no longer have to see His Majesty?” Meera asked, though she damn well knew the answer.

She’d drafted this thing for me. She’d been taught to read and write at some point, like all the Fair Folk. Except me. I still remembered the mortifying moment I’d found out I was the only one who didn’t know how to read.

At a council meeting, full of both mortals and Fair Folk, all of them reviewing a document that I didn’t understand. As I watched the Fair Folk in the room look at the parchment that outlined the duties set forth for me as queen, I realized they’d learned, and no one had thought to even offer me lessons, to tell me this pivotal piece of information. So I’d sought out the bookwyrm on my own, asked him to teach me. It was a painfully slow process, but I was improving.

I thought the king would agree to my plan. He didn’t want to see me any more than I wanted to see him. It was not the first time Lor had proven himself to be an utter arse.

I held it up, crumpling it in my fist. “And? What’s so bad about that? We don’t have to attend every single function and event and meeting together. We can do these things separately and communicate through all of you.” I swept my hand toward Meera and Morton. “Why do I have to check the magical barrier around Fairwitch Isle with him by my side? I am capable of looking at the barrier to see if there’s any weak spots all on my own. Lor can come when it’s convenient for him.”

“That’s why I’m here actually,” Meera said. “You’re late, Your Majesty.” She flashed her teeth.

I held up the scroll. “Not according to this schedule. According to this schedule I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be, having my reading lessons with Morton.”

“Do you mean to tell me this hasn’t been approved by His Majesty?” Morton asked. “Am I breaking the rules by being here?”