Page 127 of The Pumpkin Bride

He lifted her hand to his lips, then withdrew a wooden ring from his breeches pocket.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“A long-overdue ring. I whittled this from the heartwood of the Hollowsnap tree. Encircling it, I’ve carved a channel and filled it with the last of my acorn gold.”

“Whose acorn gold, now?” the autumn sprite asked.

“Hush,” Marigold said.

Bram, whose blue eyes shone brighter than the golden moon above, asked, “Marigold Ashford of Thornwick, will you marry me?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “Tonight, if possible.”

He slipped the ring onto her finger.

“It’s a perfect fit,” she marveled.

“I took the measure of your finger as you slept.” He trailed kisses from her wrist to her elbow, onward and upward until they rose and landed on her lips.

One point in favor of his human form—she needed to be less careful of nips from his under tusks.

The sprite cleared his throat. “Hate to be the one to interrupt, but—the cakes?”

Now that the curse was lifted, she could safely try the true-name solution. From the basket, Marigold tossed a pumpkin cream puff to him. “Enjoy, Grindlethwack.”

The puff bounced off the sprite’s chest.

“You know my name?” His orange hair dimmed. “How?”

“That’s my secret to keep.” She had the sneaking suspicion that outing Bastien as her informant might rain trouble on the small boy’s head. “You’re under my direction now, is that right? If so, I have a command.”

“Ah, here we go.” He picked up the cream puff, tossed it into the air, then gulped it. “Let me guess, now. You want gold? To rule? The adoration of all and sundry? Out with it. I can take it. Humans always use me for my magic.”

“I don’t need yours—I have my own.” She snapped her fingers and shrank herself and Bram to the sprite’s size.

When she negotiated, she preferred to look directly into her opponent’s eyes.

“I feel sick.” Bram bent and rested his hands on his knees.

“Oh, sorry.” She rubbed his back. “I should’ve warned you that the magic makes your stomach a little spinny. It’ll pass.”

“Well now, Red.” The sprite’s eyes widened.

“Here’s my command.” She laid her hand on the sprite’s shoulder. “Never honor another human request you don’t agree with. In fact, if there’s anything you’ve done at Crispin’s behest that you didn’t want to do, go ahead and undo it.”

Grindlethwack’s glow brightened. “Are you . . . are you releasing me?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “I don’t believe in servitude without compensation of any kind. Also, if you want to come back to Grimroot Farm, the Goldenmoon Festival is still going strong.”

He circled his index fingers around each other. “You’re inviting me to a party?”

Next to her, Bram found his feet.

“You seem surprised,” she said.

“No one’s ever invited me to a party.” His lips spread in a smile. “Tell me there’ll be cakes?”

“Many.” She snapped and returned herself and Bram to full size. “I do have a request, though. Not a command.”