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I looked up from my grimoire, where I’d been trying to work out how the fae phyla and species might branch from one another, to distract myself from feeling like a pitiful prisoner. “I think you mean a bone to pick.”
“What fun would that be?” He did a shuffle step and jingle bells hidden deep in the cabbage roses chimed. “Which, neither are you.”
“Fun?” I stood and stretched. I should walk more, but without anywhere to go but inside the castle, which just put me more on edge with all its unsettling twists and turns, I’d kept to my room. I hadn’t cared to run into Rogue or someone like Nasty Tinker Bell either. “I think I’m facing enough serious issues that I don’t need to be trying to make merry.”
“Nonsense. That’s when the most merrymaking modalities must may be.”
He’d spoken to me in English, as he sometimes did. Nevertheless. “You realize that made no sense.”
“Does anything?” He shrugged elaborately.
“Good point.”
He flopped onto the bed, crossed hands under his head and stared up at the sky. “Tell me, doctor, all of your problems.”
“I think you have our positions reversed.”
“Ah, yes—then I shall tell you. You’re being foolishly mortal. There. You can pay me in wine.”
“For lousy advice? I don’t think so.”
“Is this better? Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind.”
“Seems I’ve heard that one before,” I replied in a dry tone.
“And yet you seem to think your eyes have been blinded by fairy dust.”
“It’s not beyond the realm of possibility, right?”
“But not within probability.”
“Meaning?”
He hopped up and tapped me on the nose. His nails were painted pink. “Meaning, you’re a smart girl. Trust your mind, not your eyes.”
“That’s just it—I don’t know if I can trust my own mind.”
“You always have before. Yes? Yes? Yes?” With each question, he executed a box step, adding the jazz hands that made me laugh despite everything.
“Yes,” I finally agreed.
He snagged my ever-present carafe of wine and drank it down. “Much better!” And Puck left as abruptly as he’d arrived.
Use my mind, huh? Hardly seemed like useful advice, but I sat back down and set myself to composing a list of pros and cons on whether to marry Rogue. He might imply I had no choice, but if I really didn’t want to marry him, I’d find a way out.
I didn’t care what anyone said—there’s always a choice.
Pros
Security from cabal
Protection from QB’s final solution
Companionship
Excellent sex
Understands me and my flaws
