Home > Trial of Magic (The Fairy Tale Enchantress Book 4)(16)

Trial of Magic (The Fairy Tale Enchantress Book 4)(16)
Author: K. M. Shea

A twitch of magic and the illusion coloring her eyes was shored up, getting rid of the sharp look in her eyes.

Satisfied, Angelique marched into the hallway, making her way through the bright palace to the Evergreen Tea Room.

It was one of Angelique’s favorite tea rooms due to its decor. A massive tapestry of a herd of elven horses mingling with unicorns in the forest claimed most of one wall, while a mural of an evergreen forest was painted on the opposite wall.

A floor-to-ceiling window shed soft afternoon light on the room. Lanterns made of fogged glass with ironwork melded into stars, and a crescent moon hung from the vaulted ceiling. The room was quiet—like a forest—and smelled faintly of pine needles.

Themerysaldi and Quinn were already situated—Quinn had chosen a wooden armchair that bore elaborate carvings of evergreen trees in its legs and back, while Themerysaldi lounged on a settee padded with cream-colored pillows.

“Thank you for waiting.” Angelique followed elven manners and curtsied slightly. She edged around Themerysaldi’s settee and lowered herself into a plush chair covered in green velvet that afforded her a view of the courtyard that sprawled outside the palace, the royal stables, and the massive white trees that encamped around the borders of Sideralis.

“Tea should be here soon,” Themerysaldi said. “Did Alastryn come find you? She just about had kittens when I told her you were here.”

“She did,” Angelique said. “It was good to see her. But I’d like to hear about your curse.” She flicked her eyes from Quinn to Themerysaldi. “And it seems there is much to hear.”

On the walk to Sideralis, Quinn had told Angelique all about her meeting with Themerysaldi—apparently in an effort to outwit the curse, the king used the tiny flicker of magic that hadn’t been blocked from him to shape-shift into a mouse. Like an idiot, he’d accidentally revealed himself to a bunch of goblins, who would have killed him if Quinn hadn’t heard his shrieks and investigated.

It was a story Angelique dearly wanted to hear in excruciating detail—but it would have to come at a later date. For now, it’s enough to know that because she saved his life, Themerysaldi was able to name Quinn an elf-friend , allowing her to freely come and go from Sideralis.

“There is much to say,” Themerysaldi said. “Unfortunately, I can’t talk about—” His words cut off, and even though his face was covered by the expressionless white mask, Angelique could feel the frustration rolling off him and saw it in the way he stiffened on the settee.

“The elves—and those involved in the curse—are unable to discuss its particulars,” Quinn said.

A timid knock on the door interrupted the conversation before it started. “I beg your pardon, but I have brought the tea.”

A pretty elf maiden holding a wooden tea tray carved with hearts curtsied a little as she stepped into the room.

Though her hair was beautifully braided and she possessed the flawless beauty of her kind, there was something about the set of her mouth and the dark smudges under her eyes that made her look tired and defeated—like the elves Angelique had seen in the nearly deserted streets.

When she looked at Quinn and then Angelique, she rallied, and some of the light lit her gaze as she set the tea tray on a sideboard, then set about preparing individual cups.

“Lady Alastryn has prepared a brew of herbal blueberry tea, Lady Enchantress Angelique. She told me the way you prefer it.” The elf maiden smiled as she poured tea with the elegance of a dancer into a teacup adorned with green trees and red foxes.

“Thank you,” Angelique said. “As usual, elven hospitality is to be admired.”

“I’m afraid we may be rusty—we haven’t had the chance to play host in some years.” The elf maiden added a splash of cream and a maple candy molded in the form of a leaf. She stirred the cup with a gold spoon, then carried it to Angelique. “But I hope you enjoy it, and that your stay with us is comfortable and welcoming. We are heartened by your presence.”

She curtsied deeply after handing Angelique her tea.

While the handmaiden waited—ignoring her king as she watched Angelique with hopeful eyes—Angelique took a sip of the tea.

The familiar sweet, creamy taste of the tea was just as delicious as Angelique remembered.

For a moment, she was lost in her memories: recalling the late nights under the cloudless sky as she laughed with Evariste and ate and drank with their elven hosts; the golden afternoons she’d spend sitting with Alastryn as the elven lady performed a tea ceremony under the boughs of the famous white trees; the cozy winter afternoons she and Evariste spent bundled up in the palace in this very tea room, talking with Themerysaldi and his generals as they drank tea and gorged themselves on treats.

Angelique blinked, forcing the beautiful and precious memories back down, then smiled at the hopeful elf maiden. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

She took a moment to rustle through the lessons Alastryn had given her years ago, then added, “Your thoughtfulness—as well as Lady Alastryn’s thoughtfulness—has blessed my heart and lightened my soul.”

The elf handmaiden’s smile grew, banishing the glimmer of sadness that drooped around her shoulders. “I am so glad.” She retreated to her tea tray and made two more cups, then delivered them to Themerysaldi and Quinn—bowing to her king and curtsying to Quinn with a smile that seemed strangely hopeful.

Once finished, she picked up her tray and retreated to the door. Angelique waved to her, and then she was gone—nearly soundless as she padded down the hallway.

Angelique took another sip of her tea and briefly closed her eyes, letting the warmth of the memories lull her for a few glorious moments.

But when she recalled the last time she’d shared this particular tea—with Evariste, he’d teased her about her determination to get him to stop wasting so much money on buying them matching clothes—Angelique set her shoulders.

I have work to do—because I’d rather have Evariste with me than sit here and ponder memories.

Angelique convulsively clutched her tea cup and snapped her eyes open. “So, King Themerysaldi and the elves are unable to talk about their curse—I knew that already. Odette of the Black Swan Smugglers told me so. It was she who mentioned the elves were prisoners in their own woods, unable to leave Alabaster Forest. But what are the particulars? Something to do with masks, maybe?” She glanced at Themerysaldi’s white mask.

“Emerys is the only elf cursed to wear a mask—I don’t quite know how it factors into the spell. The real bones of the curse are that the elves are forced to celebrate every evening, night after night,” Quinn said. “The twelve daughters of King Dirth were cursed with them—it’s how they wear out their shoes night after night. If a person attends the celebration and eats or drinks any of the food there, they also fall under the curse.”

“Hmm.” Angelique glanced at Emerys and tugged on her magic. Her cool powers sank into her skin all too easily, and she studied the Elf King, trying to sort through the tangle of a spell that wrapped around him.

“But I’m afraid that’s only half of the bad news,” Quinn said. “The Farset army has discovered that a huge goblin force has been amassing in the country. They’re closing in around Alabaster Forest.”

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