Page 4 of This Is Not True Love’s Kiss

“No,” I snapped at the same time as Meera said, “Technically, yes.”

The pink bookwyrm let out a squeak, wings fluttering.

“Lor didn’t sign off and approve that schedule change,” Meera said.

“I don’t care.” I turned to stare out the windows, at the magnificent view of the little town of Fairwitch Isle. Faeries and mortals filled the cobblestone road that wound around our castle, milling about, darting in and out of our many businesses.

Dark green canopies stretched as far as the eye could see, sloping downward. It was a lovely view, one that I was thankful for. This view meant I was alive, no longer stone.

I turned abruptly.

“It’s better I don’t go to the border with Lor. That way I won’t have to resist the urge to shove him right through the bloody barrier and out of Fairwitch Isle.”

Meera snorted, and Morton gasped in horror.

“I’m not speaking for His Majesty,” Meera said slowly, “but if I were, I imagine he would not agree to something like that because it would not be in the best interest of your people for their rulers to be so separate.”

Of course. That’s all Lor ever cared about. Certainly not what was in the best interest of his wife.

Fire heated my blood. “What’s in the best interest of our people is not being subject to the constant bickering of their king and queen.”

“Her Majesty does have a point,” Margaret said.

“You wouldn’t bicker all the time if you would try to see his point of view,” Meera said evenly.

I rolled my eyes. “Not you too. Why doesn’t he try to see my point of view? Why is he always right?”

Meera jumped up onto my desk, her black fur silken and shimmering under the sun that streamed through the windows. “Would you like to know what I think?”

“Not particularly.”

She gave me a pointed stare. “I think that you’re so afraid of being controlled that you push His Majesty away to protect yourself. But if you were open to it, you and His Majesty could be partners, could complement each other.”

I scoffed. Except for the fact that Lor loved controlling every part of my life. Just like my former master.

“Margaret.” I turned toward the painting, ignoring my adviser. The painting froze now that my attention was on her.

“Yes?”

I smiled, thinking of the look on Lor’s face when I didn’t show up to his precious little border check. “I have a message for you to send to His Majesty after all.”

CHAPTER 2

Lor

My wife was late as usual. I stood at the border, which we were supposed to inspect together this morning. We did monthly inspections of the entire barrier around Fairwitch Isle, making sure there were no holes, weak spots, nothing that would indicate the magic that kept our kingdom invisible and safe was weakening.

This was important. I may have only been king for two years, but I knew that before Castle had chosen me and Aoife as its rulers, the border had been weak, the magic that protected our city failing and exposing the city to those who would do it harm.

I didn’t know why Aoife had to be so difficult about these things. I’d gotten that ridiculous document that she wanted separate schedules, but I’d refused to sign it. We were both adults. I was forty-two years old, and Aoife had about four thousand years on me. Maybe we didn’t get along, but we could put aside our differences to do what was best for our people. At least that was what I’d thought.

Yet Aoife was nowhere to be found. I shoved a hand through my hair, and it fell back into place, brushing my shoulders.

“There you are.” I looked up to see my older brother striding toward me, his full beard streaked by grey, his mop of hair tousled in the morning breeze.

I was tall and muscled, typically taller and bigger than most, but even I wasn’t as big as Wolfe, who towered over everyone, a mountain of a man.

“How are you?” I said, already tired, and it was first thing in the morning.