Page 16 of A Spell of Heart & Havoc

“Good morning, darling,” I drawled with a wink. “Starting my day off right, with a vision like you here.”

Petra tittered a little and said, “Good morning! Would you mind opening Dove’s door for me? I wanted to surprise her with a special breakfast.”

Letting her into my room, I surveyed the tray she held. “In exchange for a snack, sure.”

“No, this is for my lady!” She giggled. “You’ll have to get your own breakfast in the kitchens.”

“Hmm, well then, I suppose I’ll need to have a different kind of snack…” I stepped closer, and she moved back against the wall, the tray between us. Her eyes widened, looking like a bunny happily caught in a trap.

After a long second, I lifted one hand to the door behind her and pressed it against the center flower. A tingle washed over my palm, all the way up to my elbow, but the magic still released the door lock.

“Maybe later,” I said, low in her ear, then stepped to the side and opened the door to Dove’s bedroom. Petra let out a breathless giggle and slipped inside with a smile, crossing the room to set her burden on top a dresser. Before I closed it again, I caught a glimpse of Dove in her bed. Asleep, covered in quilts up to her chin. The corner of one was scrunched in a tight fist, her delicate eyebrows also crushed together. She looked very young in sleep, and very unhappy.

After another moment, I shut the door on that scene, shaking something loose from my head. Stalking back to the mirror, I gave my short, dark-brown hair a rough brush, then scowled at my reflection in the mirror. Good enough. With my twin long daggers sheathed at each hip and various other small blades and tools hidden on my body, I was finally more ready for whatever this strange day would bring.

Just one evening with my charge had left me exhausted by the time I’d fallen into bed. What would she do to me after an entire day?

Voices began faintly chattering in the adjoining room, so Dove must be awake. I should grab some real breakfast downstairs before the princess gets on the move and disappears into the bowels of this house. As quietly as I could, I ducked out of the bedroom and slipped down to the kitchens. Goddess, give me strength for this day.

8

DOVE

I woke to the smell of freshly baked scones and chocolate. Blinking the sleep out of my eyes, I spotted Petra bustling around the room, shaking the curtains open wide and pouring something that smelled absolutely delicious into a teacup. Bright sunlight filled the room. I squinted.

“Is that what I think it is?” I croaked, propping up on an elbow. She started and whirled around, shooting one of her gentle smiles my way.

“Dove! Good morning! Yes, I made a special treat for you. Got up extra early to slowbrew it.” Her smile faded somewhat. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t here last night.”

I tried to be cross. Avoiding her pleading gaze, I sat up in bed, plumping the pillows behind my back.

“Are you alright?” I asked archly.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just got my nights off confused again, and by the time I’d realized, you must have already gone to sleep. The door was sealed.”

I could almost feel her worry and unhappiness, and it tugged at my heartstrings. She stood beside my bed, wringing her apron in her hands, the way she always did when she was upset. I took pity on her and held my hand out for the cup.

“Well, that’s alright. No harm done, I suppose,” I said. “But that’s the second time this month, Petra.”

She pressed the fine porcelain cup into my hands and nodded quickly. “I know, and I’m so, so sorry, my lady.”

I shifted on my mattress. “Oh, none of that. I thought we were over this nonsense. I’m not your lady. Just Dove.” Suddenly, I realized something. “How did you get in here this morning?”

“Maerryl let me in! Convenient, isn’t it, having someone trustworthy guarding your door? Now we can do breakfast in bed properly, rather than you having to get up to let me in.”

I grunted but didn’t press the issue. Too early in the day for that topic. Bringing the cup to my nose, I inhaled gently and took a sip. Gorgeous.

Petra had made my favorite—a rich, slowbrewed coffee that was mixed with careful proportions of bitter dark chocolate and wildflower honey, along with other things. It took ages to make, so we almost never had it, but goddess… it was my favorite. When she was alive, my grandmam used to make it as a treat when I was little. Usually when I was feeling down: the day after my birthday; when a butterfly I’d caught died; after I skinned a knee. It always made me feel heaps better. Or maybe it was the hugs she gave me along with it. She called the drink “loveydovey,” and every time she said that, I felt the warmest buzz in my chest, like a dozen lightning bugs sparking up together. I hadn’t felt that since she died.

I’d also never quite been able to replicate the drink, though when I was older, Choia showed me exactly how Grandmam made it. Despite our best efforts, it always tasted as if there was a little something missing.

But Petra got it pretty damn close.

“Thanks for this. It’s delicious,” I said as she brought my breakfast tray over. I swung out of bed, placing my cup on the tray and pulling the whole thing from her hands. “Let’s go eat by the fire. You can tell me all about your night, and we’ll tackle these waffles together.”

Reassured, Petra returned back to her normal, bubbly self. We wandered into the front room and settled on the sofa as she chattered away, telling me about some lovely elf she met at the pub down the way last night. How hot she was, and her sweet bashful partner, a tall, lavender dish of a man. Apparently, they’d been traveling all over Kurriel—all over the world—and were heading toward Iwwo next.

As Petra talked on and on, detailing every piece of stunningly crafted jewelry the woman had been wearing, my thoughts drifted. Iwwo—that was hundreds of miles away. All the way in the far north of the realm.