Page 110 of A Lady’s Guide to Fae Kings

Epilogue

Spring Equinox, 1799

“There is a dramatic number of owls in the courtyard,” Sorcha remarked. “They get very cross when they cannot see you through the window.”

Pippa was halfway up a ladder, shelving a book that refused to stay put and insisted on following her throughout the Library. She wore her work apron and the pin of an official Head Librarian of Hallow University, a book crossed by a key and a sword.

Once word reached the council that she had located a hidden Fae book in Elphame and could control her fire, she was immediately offered the position. Mrs. Pettigrew, with proof that Pippa could light a row of candles without burning a single page of any book in the Library, had offered her congratulations and the gift of a new pouch. Aside from Sorcha and Briar, Mrs. Pettigrew was now the only person on Lyonesse who was not terrified of Pippa as the wife of the leader of the Wild Hunt.

It did not help that Lachlan insisted on sending owls and ghostly, red-eared dogs to shadow her. They made people nervous. Which, he maintained, was the point. Professor Marwick and his assistants refused to enter the Library at all now. She did not miss them.

“Another one?” Sorcha said, noticing the owl perched at the top of a bookcase. He fluffed his white feathers. “Yes, you’re very handsome.”

“That was the bargain,” Pippa explained. “Only one owl inside the Library at a time.”

“I was not aware that Lachlan possessed the ability to be reasonable when it comes to you,” Sorcha teased. She set a basket of pastries down on the table. “I have relented and added more seed buns for Mrs. Pettigrew.”

“She will be thrilled.”

“I still cannot believe that she has turned out to be your defender.”

“She only cares about the books,” Pippa said. The owl made a little huffing sound just as snow drifted down from the ceiling. “Is that the time? I really must be running.” Snow gathered on the edge of a shelf. “Not on the books, Lachlan Thorn!” Pippa scolded, hurrying down the ladder. The cold receded, frost contained to the stained glass window depicting one of the librarians of Alexandria.

Sorcha grinned. “I like this for you. Can you terrorize Professor Marwick with your newfound power and prestige?”

“I do not have to, not between Lachlan and you.”

Sorcha shrugged. “Serves him right for being so beastly.”

“Still, you might stop sending crows to harass Lord Fenway every time he steps outside. He is getting rather on in age.”

“Has he apologized to you for groping you that one time?”

“Well, no. But I did set his hair on fire. What was left of it.”

“Not good enough. The crows stay.”

“You would make a good Rider for the Hunt.”

“Wouldn’t I?” Sorcha grinned. “Imagine the justice I could wreak.”

“I think you mean havoc.”

“Pish.” Sorcha hugged her. “Briar’s birthday is in a week. And since no one is allowed to plan birthdays, as you made such a mess of yours, I am having a party at the manor. Attendance is mandatory. Don’t forget.”

“I won’t.”

“And tell your husband I should still like one of those ghost hounds as a pet.”

“He knows.”

“And yet do I have one? No.”

Pippa grinned and traded her apron for a pelisse. “A terrible oversight, I am sure.”

“Exactly right. Ta.”

The moon was high when Pippa made it outside. The owls wheeled over her, thrilled. The last of the winter cold had faded and the first hint of spring bloomed with the snowdrops and the bluebells and the gold tulips a witch had spelled for Hallow after she graduated from a particularly troublesome set of examinations.