Page 97 of Not Another Happily Ever After

“It is,” says the top Inkling.

“And yet it isn’t,” negates the bottom one.

“No, you don’t understand,” I mutter. “I’ve never loved?—”

The words die in my throat.

No. That’s not true. There was someone.

It hits me. Not the answer, but the question I need to ask. The one I’ve been circling since running into the Dark Knight’s chest…

I suck in a long, slow breath.

What if they say no? What if they say yes?I don’t know which answer frightens me more.

“Do I know his name, hisrealname?” I ask, unsure if I’ll be able to hear them over the pounding in my chest.

The Inklings’ ears perk forward as they stare down at me. They blink. Once. Twice.

“Yes.”

The world tilts beneath me.

My knees slam into the floor with a painful thud, knocking over a few books and the extra pack.

A few patrons stop, but I don’t hear the words they say. My attention is wholly consumed by the spool of red ribbon and swatches of red and lilac that are peeking out of the pack—a pack with all its buttons.

It was never Rhidland.

I drag myself up to my feet, swaying on my heels as every scattered piece clicks into place.

It was him?

I bolt.

My dress catches beneath my feet, but I wrench it free. I leap over seated patrons, my ribbon slipping loose around my neck.

I don’t care.

Not now that I’m this much closer to the truth.

“Princess,” Myrrdin starts toward me. “Is everything?—”

“Whose bag did I carry?” I pant, every inch of my body alight with a feeling I can’t name.

Myrrdin frowns. “It’s Frog’s. Why?”

I don’t answer.

I tear past him.

The door bangs open as I race into the crowded road.

I don’t stop.

I can’t.

Not now that I know my ghost might be my knight.