Page 69 of This Prince Is Not Charming

So I decided to work.

I stared at the blood trailing down my finger. Clearly I couldn’t do that either.

Father was upstairs eating supper. I’d told him I would join him shortly, but all I wanted to do was run back to the castle and sit by Cillian, willing him to wake up.

The image of his writhing body when I’d found him haunted me. Tears welled in my eyes, but I blinked away as I thought about what might have happened if Margaret hadn’t found him in time, if Enid hadn’t been there to help detox his body from all the heartstopper he’d taken.

The bell over the door rang, and I didn’t even bother looking up. “We’re closed,” I said.

“Even for a wine and cheese night?”

My head snapped up as I saw Marsten holding a bottle of wine and a plate of various cheeses while Meera sat on the floor, looking as bored as always.

I stood quickly, dashing away my tears and straightening my dress. “What are you all doing here?”

“Well, we’ve invited you out countless times, and every time, you say no.” Marsten clucked. “So we decided to bring the party to you.”

“He decided to,” Meera said. “I only came because I was promised warm milk.”

Marsten rolled his eyes. “Yes, Meera, I’ll get you your warm milk. Now go sit down and stop pretending like you weren’t jabbering on about how worried you were for Ceri.”

I stared at them, unable to understand what was happening. “You came here? But why?”

They stopped on their way to the couch, shooting me confused looks. “Because we’re your friends,” Marsten finally said. “And you’ve had a horrible week. We didn’t want you to be alone.”

Meera tipped her head in agreement.

“Oh.” Godwitches, I was going to start crying all over again. I inhaled a shaky breath. “In that case, I’m going to need some of that wine.”

* * *

Marsten strolled out of the back room, now wearing a full ball gown that swished around his ankles.

He put the back of his hand against his head and stuck a bare leg out of the slit in the side of the bright red gown. “What do we think?”

Meera looked up from where she was lapping warm milk. “Not complete shite.”

Marsten straightened. “I think that was actually a compliment.”

“Oh my gosh.” My hands went to my cheeks. “That dress looks like it was made for you.”

Marsten twirled and looked at himself in the mirror. “Do you think so?”

I raced across the room and adjusted the shoulder straps to lay over his biceps. “Why have I been making trousers and blouses for you all these years when you could be wearing things like this?”

Marsten cocked his head, his face glowing in a way I’d never seen before.

“Look at you,” I said. “You’re radiant. That’s it. I’m making you a new wardrobe.”

“He’s so hairy he doesn’t even need clothes,” Meera mumbled.

Marsten shot the cat a look. “This town would not be able to handle this”—he gestured to his body—“without clothes.”

I laughed, and even Meera snorted into her milk. “You humans are so precious about nudity. It’s just a body. A vessel. It means nothing.”

“Excuse you,” Marsten said. “This body turns heads.”

I nodded, staring at his tall, muscular form next to my short, plump one. “I have to agree with him, Meera. I don’t think Fairwitch Isle could handle Marsten unclothed.”