Page 76 of This Is Not True Love’s Kiss

Margaret stopped squealing, expression sobering. “Oh. This is like a test. No one thinks I can keep a secret, but I can. I’m a good secret keeper.” She mimed closing her mouth and throwing away a key. “No one will hear of this, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you,” I said.

It was silent above, and that meant Aoife was done. Now maybe I could actually breathe.

“But, if I may, Your Majesty.” Margaret raised a finger. “You don’t have to woo her all by yourself. You do have a community of people rooting for you, people who want to see you and Her Majesty succeed.”

I huffed. “What am I supposed to do? Let everyone go on a date with us?”

Margaret frowned. “That would be very awkward. No, I was thinking more along the lines of bringing her to a family dinner. Let your family win her over for you. Let other people help you.”

Those words were surprisingly similar to what Aoife had just said this afternoon. She’d been right. Wolfe and our advisors had handled things perfectly. Maybe I could get help from my family.

“Aoife would never agree to a family dinner,” I said.

“Unless it’s on your calendar,” Margaret said, eyes widening meaningfully. “You both agreed to attend all each other’s events and meetings. Maybe this could be labeled as a meeting . . .”

Aoife might be angry if I tricked her, but then again, the trade off could be worth it. My family would welcome her with open arms, and maybe we could do something special, something that would make Aoife feel welcome, comfortable. And then, she might just be open enough to actually let my family woo her. To let me woo her.

“Margaret,” I said, “I’m going to need you to hunt down some Fair Folk recipes for me.”

“Why?” Margaret asked.

“Because we’re going to have a traditional Fair Folk dinner with my family.”

CHAPTER 41

Aoife

Istood outside the door to a little stone cottage, nestled between the trees of the forest. Cottages dotted the landscape where most of the residents lived. Many new cottages had been built for the Fair Folk.

Meera had told me today’s meeting was taking place at the Wolfgang Cottage, and I wasn’t sure what that meant. Would the council be here for this meeting? Why was it taking place here and not in the council chamber like normal?

I would’ve asked Lor any of these questions if I’d seen him, but I hadn’t, not since that kiss in the library yesterday. He’d slept next to me last night, but as usual, he’d slipped in after I’d already fallen asleep. I’d woken in the middle of the night, comforted by his arm around my waist, but when I’d woken up in the morning, he’d already been gone.

I stood in front of the door, peeking into the little window on the side of the cottage to see the Wolfgang clan inside, bustling about, talking and laughing and preparing what looked like a feast. My hackles raised instantly. This didn’t seem like a normal meeting. It seemed like Lor was luring me here under false pretense, and my immediate reaction was to run.

I didn’t want to be trapped in there with all those people whom I didn’t know very well. I bit the bottom of my lip, ready to turn and flee back to the castle. When I next saw Lor, I’d let him know I didn’t appreciate being tricked into coming to some family dinner. If he wanted me to come, he could ask me. He likely hadn’t asked because he knew I’d say no.

We’d formed a truce, but it still felt shaky, uncertain, and if I walked away, it very well might break the goodwill we’d built.

A scent wafted through the air, immediately taking me back to a different time. I was standing next to Oraya in the castle kitchen while she made my favorite trifle pudding. I hadn’t tasted that dish in so long. I wasn’t even sure any of the Fair Folk remembered these recipes, the ones we created with the meager food rations we were given, the ones we created in secret for our festivals and gatherings.

I peeked back in the window and my eyes widened as I looked more closely at all the dishes. Every single one was a Fair Folk recipe.

My heart fluttered, and my mouth watered. Lor had done this . . . for me? His family had agreed to this? To cook all these unfamiliar dishes? Tears sprang to my eyes at the memories that flooded me. I’d eaten each and every one of those dishes with the other Fair Folk, and each and every one came with their own memories. Good memories of community and happiness.

I still wasn’t sure I wanted to go inside, but before I could decide, the door swung open, Lor’s mother standing there with a smile on her face.

“Your Majesty.” Lor’s mother dipped her head and dropped into a curtsy.

I hated the formality of it, and it reminded me far too much of the way the godwitches insisted people bow before them.

“That’s truly not necessary.”

She straightened. “You’re like Lor then,” she said, eyes sparkling as if she knew something I didn’t. “He hates when anyone bows to him. Though I suspect his reasons are different than yours.”

That surprised me. Yet another thing I’d learned about Lor.