Page 89 of Not Another Happily Ever After

There isn’t color like this anywhere in Kingdom Ruin. It almost feels like a dream.

I look back at the knights, to see if they’re also lost in wonder. Instead I find their hands resting on the hilts of their blades.

And Buttons is tail tucked in the carriage.

“What is it?” I frown.

“Stay close, Miss Sunday,” Frog whispers.

Then he leads us beneath the arch.

All around us music plays. Soft and slow. Loud and quick. Every corner is a stage, and every balcony a showroom.

Performers reach for us, smiling and laughing as they try to get me or one of the knights onto their stage. But the knights brush them off and the dancers’ smiles begin to fade.

The more I watch them, the more I notice their moves are forced, as if they’re simply bodies on a string.

I lock eyes with a little girl whose blonde hair is tied back in blue ribbons. Her eyes are red-rimmed as she stands between a laughing couple.

“Frog…” I gently grab him, unable to look away from the little girl. Something isn’t right here.

He slows but doesn’t stop as he follows my gaze.

“I know,” he whispers, his voice barely there. “Come on, in here.”

The knights usher me inside a small bakery, the nameGoldie’s Good Stuffinscribed on the sign.

Inside the cozy, rustic cottage everything’s intentionally mismatched. Round oak tables are paired with upholstered chairs and charming benches piled high with plush pillows. Before the crackling stone fireplace sit three armchairs of different sizes, each occupied by a large, burly man whose gaze follows as we enter.

Frog offers them a nod as he leads me to our table. The burly men remain indifferent—until the twins walk in.

The largest of the three men, built like a brick house and wearing a grizzly beard, surges to his feet. Before Merrek can even pull out his chair, he strides over and yanks it from the knight’s hands.

“That one aint a good fit for you.” He growls, as the two other men fall into step beside him.

Merrek sighs, biting his tongue as he reaches for another seat.

One of the other men steps forward, no less impressive in size, sporting a dark mustache on his face.

“Try again.” He bites, taking that chair from Merrek too.

“You eager to hit that third strike?Again.” Says the smallest, though arguably the most intimidating of the three.

“You know it’s a shame there are three of ya, I’ve only got the two ears,” Merrek muses, flashing the angry men a smile.

I lean forward in my chair, my mouth hung open in question, though I’m not exactly sure what to ask.

Do you have a death wish, feels applicable here.

Myrrdin scoots closer in his chair.

“Those would be the Bear brothers.” He drops his voice low.

I blink. Not having the slightest clue as to what that means, or who theBear brothersare. I look to Frog hoping for clarification. The dark knight tips his head, scratching his neck.

Well that’s…helpful.

Where’s a woman when you need one?