Page 88 of Not Another Happily Ever After

…Six.

Ten.

Twenty?

Something’s not right. We must be going the wrong way?

I stick my head out the carriage window and note the sudden lack of light. Above us there is no sun, or moon, or stars. Just a purple sky.

Where in the realm are we?

“Everything alright down there, princess?” Myrrdin calls, watching me out the corner of his eye.

“Did we take a wrong turn somewhere?” I ask.

“No.” He’s quick to shake his head, averting his eyes. “We’re…taking a detour to refill our water supply,” he answers, repeating the whispers of what someone else said.

“Oh.”

But wait?—

Didn’t Rhidland just say we were good on water for the rest of the trip? Unless…

“Did the people who attacked us raid our supplies?” My stomach bottoms at the thought of Rhidland’s things being ransacked and taken.

“The Redhoods are many things, Miss Sunday. But thieves they are not,” Frog answers, the first time he’s spoken to me since the old guard’s death.

I don’t have time to think about how much his distance hurts me, or how much my heart aches for him. Not after what he’s just said.

“You mean to tell me the same people who killed Gally, killed Rhidland too?” I ask, searching for a meaning to his murder, knowing it won’t make a difference in his death.

The men fall quiet, lost beneath the clicks and clacks of the horses’ feet.

The old me would have demanded an answer, would have sleuthed and scoured until someone eventually relented. But I’m tired. So instead I nod and slowly slip back into the carriage, saying nothing else as I pull a sleeping Buttons onto my lap.

Several hours slip by in silence before the carriage is pulled to a halt.

“We’re here!” Merrek shouts, though I still haven’t the slightest idea as to wherehereis.

I peek out the window and find thousands upon thousands of corded strings hanging from twisted tree branches. Glowing blue, they hum with life high above a town that looks like something from a storybook.

Bright banners flutter from rooftops. Painted wagons crowd the path.

I’ve never seen so many dancers. And I’ve definitely never seen anyone move likethat.

“What is this place?” I ask in hushed wonder, my breath catching as I reach for a steadying hand. Frog silently offers his and I let him help me onto the yellow path.

“Look up,” Merrek gestures, though his gaze is lowered, caught on mine and Frog’s hands.

I loosen my grip, ignoring the flutter in my core as Frog’s fingers gently brush against mine before letting go.

A knowing smile tugs at Merrek’s lips.

I look away, ignoring that too.

High above us, a warped wooden arch welcomes us with the wordsTown of Merry-O-Netcarved into its aging wood. And just beneath the inscription, two messages. The first has been painted over in red, though it’s still legible:every soul deserves a standing ovation.Below it, written in a similar shade of blue as the cords, a new promise reads:where the show is on you.

“It’s beautiful.” I whisper, but no one else agrees.