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Starling would be one of my hopeful monsters, should my theory bear out. Though a second child and not firstborn, she looked very nearly human. A tall, long-limbed and graceful woman, yes, but not so much that you’d think twice about it. Her peaches-and-cream skin glowed with perfect vitality that whispered of magic, though it would be put down to youthful health in my world. Her glossy brown eyes sat a bit wider apart in her face, over human-flat cheekbones, with a scattering of freckles grown darker in our journeys. Melanin response, just as in human physiology.
“Lady Gwynn.” Her tone caught my attention. “Are you even listening to me?”
I rewound her explanation in my head. “Yes. You’ll send out page-borne invitations immediately, ranked in order of recipient’s importance, starting with the Queen Bitch, the last person I want at my wedding. The silk nymphs will arrive tomorrow to begin work on the gown. Rogue and I need to decide on a location for the actual ceremony—though I got the distinct impression from him that it would be here, but I’ll ask. You will consult with Mistress Nancy when she arrives about catering. Athena has volunteered to corral the dragonfly girls to gather flowers. Yes, the Stargazers from the meadow would be fine and most appropriate—I’ll check with Rogue that it’s okay to cut them. You’ll handle the rest of the decorations.”
Starling narrowed her eyes at me. “I don’t know how you do that.”
I gave her a cheeky grin. “It’s a gift.”
She snorted and opened her mouth to say something else, but Athena arrived, carrying Walt’s scepter, Darling Hercules at her side. She set a velvet bag on the workbench. “Your dragon eggs. I brought them all.” Then she whistled, tipping back her head to take in the expanse of sky. “Nice digs. Lord Rogue is a class act.”
“He is that.”
Darling slipped an image in my head of him in eye-blinding armor, performing the ceremony. “I don’t think so,”I replied and he flicked his tail in annoyance. The presence of the scepter in the room sizzled with a subsonic hum.
Though Darling had brought up a good point. “So, who will marry us?”
Athena and Starling cocked their heads in that quizzical way, while Darling Hercules leaped up on my workbench and batted the rubber ducky off with the cat equivalent of a smirk. I moved the grimoire out of his reach.
“You marry each other,” Starling finally said, nice and slow for the idiot girl.
“No, no.” Hell, it confused things in good old American English too. “In my world, people get married according to a religion. So a priest or representative of that god or goddess performs the ceremony for them.” Or the judge did it for the government. Pretty much the same thing, in the end. Snarky me.
“Are you saying you want Titania to perform the ceremony?” Athena raised her powder-blue eyebrows in astonished arches.
“God, no!”
“It’s your special day.” Starling glared at Athena. “You should have what you want.”
“No. I don’t want it to be like that.” Watch me turn into Bridezilla. Given Faerie magic, I’d morph into Godzilla in a froufrou gown. “When Blackbird and Fergus got married, how did that work?”
A little line appeared on Starling’s brow. “I don’t know. I’ll ask when they arrive.”
“They’re coming?”
“Of course, Gwynn!” Starling nearly stamped her foot. “They wouldn’t miss the wedding of the millennium. I’ve been trying to tell you—everyone who is anyone will be there.”
“Clearly excluding the everyones who aren’t anyone,” Athena observed. My little fae Che Guevara.
“I agree, everyone should be invited.After,” I specified, seeing Starling’s aghast expression, “the bigwigs receive their invitations.” Rogue would not be at all pleased to have humans at the wedding, but if the bride is one, I say the others get to come too. “Now—how is it possible that Blackbird is coming? Are you saying Fergus found her and is retrieving her from sailing the sea?”
She lifted one shoulder. Let it fall. “I don’t know. Fafnir mentioned at the feast that they’re on their way.”
All so convoluted. I’d check in on them too. It began to feel as if the Castle of the Dark Gods had a big homing signal on it, with all of my personal pigeons flocking home to roost.
Starling gathered her skirts. “I’m off then. I have work to do.” She stared pointedly at Athena, who grinned cheerfully and didn’t move.
“Oh! Before you go, Starling—can we arrange for magic apples to feed the dragon?” Look at me, Queen of Delegating.
“Already requested.” Starling gave me a smug look.
“You are amazing,” I told her. “How much do I love you?”
“Not nearly enough.” She sniffed, but she bustled off with a happy bounce in her stride.
“I’ll hang for a few.” Athena said, when I looked at her in question, maintaining her grip on the scepter, giving me an implacable look.
“You don’t trust me alone with the scepter?”
