When I win, I’ll make sure I bask in my glory while he’s stuck sharpening every sword in the training hall.
The honor of the loser.
AFTER OUR RUN LAST NIGHT and this morning, I finally am relaxed for once. I was right. Training Luca will be mutually beneficial.
I sit at my vanity, studying myself in a red gown.
Strapless, with a sweetheart neckline. It hugs my body like a second skin before flaring gently at the ankles. After enough complaining, I get Ollie to cut a slit—one—up to my knee so I can have some mobility. Any higher, he claimed, would “ruin the look.”
He stands proudly on my vanity now, lipstick smeared all over his thin lips. Bright pink eyeshadow cakes his eyelids, and far,fartoo much blush brightens his cheeks.
The best part? His hair, of which he has none. Instead, he shows up in a short, blonde wig that’s unbrushed and stiff with too much volume.
“Ollie, where did you get butterfly clips?”
I reach toward one of the tiny, colorful bugs caught in his synthetic hair.
“I takes them!”
“You stole them?” I chuckle, fixing one of his clips so it sits evenly on his face.
“She wasn’t using them, Misses. They were on the counter, not in her hair,” he says with complete conviction.
Of course, per Ollie’s logic, that’s not stealing. But I suppose, to Oliver, not much is considered stealing.
“I like them.” I lean in and kiss his cheek. My dark lipstick leaves a perfect imprint.
He all but purrs, turning bashfully toward the mirror. When he spots the kiss, his eyes widen, and he gently traces the mark with his finger.
“I keeps forever,” he whispers.
“You’ll have to bathe eventually, Ollie.”
“Never thischeek!”
I pick him up and settle him on my lap.
He plops down, grabbing the ends of my hair. Chubby fingers tangle in the loose strands.
“I will give you new kisses,” I promise.
A shrill squeal leaves him, all joy and flailing toes, only the tips peeking from beneath his stomach.
I stay with him as I finish my makeup.
He helps curl and straighten my hair into smooth barrel waves, his stubby hands steady, his magic surprisingly precise. The ball I will be attending with Kalix has a high dress code. My hair must be in order even if chaos is sure to ensue when we try to capture a cursed person.
For now, there is only me and Ollie.
And warmth.
And the calm before whatever comes next.
Chapter 42
Millicent
“THIS IS JUST A LORD’S estate?” I mutter to Kalix as we enter the garden. “Seems more like a palace.”
