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Rosie appeared with a return note from Georgia. I opened it at once.
Dearest Fae King,
I will gladly accept your offer of an evening stroll, if I can select our path.
Yours (contractually speaking),
Princess Georgia
P.S. Don’t you think you’re overdoing it with the gowns? There are at least ten here and even more shoes.
I laughed.
CHAPTER 22
The Stolen Bride
It was half an hour past the start of lunch, and my stomach was rumbling. I should have never wished for Forrest to send shoes. The blighted shoemaker had been here for three hours! How could one little cart hold so many shoes? I was beginning to suspect it was enchanted. I had tried on more than one hundred pairs.
Worse still, more gowns had arrived! I would be starved and worn ragged over fae fashion. I sat on the bed, resting, as the shoemaker mumbled something about finding the "right" pair. I was stretching my neck when I felt an unusually insistent sea breeze tug at my locks. A note fluttered on the wind. This one was folded into the shape of a paper bird and tapped insistently at my shoulder. I rolled my eyes and accepted it.
Dearest Georgia,
You called me dearest. I could get used to the sound of that. Perhaps, I will hear it on your lips tonight. I will come to collect you as soon as my meeting ends. You may select our path, but only if I may point out the horrifying danger you will undoubtedly be leading us into.
Yours (in every possible meaning of the word),
Forrest
P.S. Only ten gowns? That’s wholly inadequate. I’ll have more sent immediately.
I snorted and snatched paper from my bedside drawer. Rosie had begun to stock the prettiest paper for me. Each piece was made of pressed flower petals. I quickly scrawled out my reply.
Detestable Forrest,
A dozen more gowns have arrived. This is obscene. Where will I put them? Also, kindly call off your shoemaker. I have no need for stilettos made of seaglass. And, for what purpose, would I wear a casual "shell-encrusted sandal?" My feet are bleeding just thinking of it.
Yours (contractually),
Georgia
Before I could find a servant to deliver the note, it was ripped out of my hand by a rogue sea breeze and drifted out the door. I smiled. Really? Did the Fae King have nothing better to do with his day? I couldn’t find it in my heart to truly mean the admonishment.
At last, Rosie chased off the shoemaker. She could be surprisingly ferocious for such a small thing. She bared her sharp rabbit teeth at him, and when he still didn’t move toward the door, she took a bite out of his pant’s leg. That got him moving.
I should have apologized, but it was all I could do not to laugh out loud. I was far too hungry for the appropriate amount of decorum.
Soon after, he was giving us a sweeping bow and wishing us a good day.
At last, I was permitted to leave for lunch.
Harry was waiting at the table. "Good afternoon?" he asked.
"Yes," I answered, surprising myself with my own reply. I had enjoyed the letters, and I was looking forward to my stroll with Forrest. I wanted to visit the greenhouses. An idea had started to form. One that could change everything.
I buttered a multigrain roll. Harry passed me a piece of fish on a hearty bed of sea kelp, and I gratefully accepted it.
After a few bites, another letter arrived. I grinned and opened it at once.
