“Thank you, Angel.” Snow White smiled as she descended the rickety cottage stairs, dressed in a blue, velvet gown Angelique had dug out of her magical satchel to lend to the princess. It was of Mullberg style with a yellow kirtle and yellow ribbing at the shoulders and elbows.
It had been a little awkward to make the offer, but given that Snow White had worn the same dress every day since Angelique met her, she wasn’t too surprised when the princess accepted the gown.
Snow White grasped the warm material of her skirt and lifted it slightly. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”
It’s a lucky thing I had to buy that dress for one of our breaking-and-entering escapades. It came in handy when establishing our cover as rich ladies with coin to spare so the Chosen guards weren’t suspicious when we bought them nearly endless drinks.
Angelique winked. “Of course! I’m happy to help since we’re friends now!”
A slight arch to Snow White’s eyebrows gave her a wry look. “Is that why you didn’t offer this the night we broke in here and instead suggested I wear the warrior’s clothes?”
“Oh, that!” Angelique grinned unrepentantly. “That was for the fun of it. You had these great big moon eyes that seemed to get bigger with everything I suggested. I was wondering how much I could make them bulge. Besides, I trust you more, now.”
Snow White, generous soul that she was, didn’t comment on Angelique’s conduct. “I see.” She approached a window and push open a shutter she’d closed before changing. “Shall we go outside to join them?”
“Certainly!” Angelique flapped her plain cloak—she was still wearing her oversized blue tunic for the sake of her disguise—and motioned for Snow White to lead.
Snow White paled a little as she cautiously opened the door, which creaked on its new hinges. The weather had warmed and the snow had melted, leaving the ground soft and the air just a touch warmer.
Snow White paused, then took a hesitant step outside.
Angelique smirked at her back.
She’s worried what Fritz will think—how cute. And not at all something I wish to see.
Angelique shook her head and strode over to the Seven Warriors’ food supply—or, what it really was: Fritz’s well-organized food supply—and started rummaging around, looking for something to snack on while she waited for the lovelorn princess and her beau to get their sappy looks over with.
It took a few crates and a barrel before she found something edible that wouldn’t require being stewed within an inch of its life—a radish.
Angelique brushed it off and tipped her head. Confirming enough time had passed for the worst of the love-addled moments to be over, she strolled outside, biting into her snack as she scratched her side with a casualness she took a nearly unholy delight in.
Snow White was playing with a new blue ribbon she’d already woven in her hair. Two guesses who gave her that!
Rupert and Oswald were wrestling—such a surprise. Fritz was fletching arrows while Marzell—carrying an armload of letters—walked past the sleeping Gregori with exaggerated care on his way to stand with Aldelbert and Wendal, who were inspecting painted portraits of the bright-haired and simple-minded lord.
Angelique felt gratified for her less-than-stately entrance when Wendal frowned at her, his lips puckering up.
“Do you have even an ounce of elegance in you?” he asked.
Angelique smirked and waggled her radish at him. “Does it look like I do?”
“I feel sorry for your master.” Wendal unrolled a painting and held it up for Lord Aldelbert’s inspection.
Angelique smiled at her radish. “Me, too.”
“What’s wrong, Aldelbert?” Marzell asked.
Angelique peered at the young lord, who was staring at his rolled-up portraits with an uncommonly thoughtful expression. “My portraits are moving,” he announced. “I do not know if it’s because they are so filled with my glory they cannot stand to be hidden, or for some other reason.”
“What?” Rupert had been in the middle of pinning Oswald to the ground, but he backed up and peered into the woods at Aldelbert’s observation.
Oswald rolled across the flattened grass and snatched up his sword and Rupert’s, tossing the other warrior his weapon before he stood up. Fritz set the arrows he was fletching aside and stood in front of Snow White, holding his sheathed sword.
Angelique discreetly let her magic unfurl, narrowing her eyes as she tried to sense any sign of another mage’s presence.
Marzell scanned the edge of the forest. “Do you hear something?”
Oswald tilted his head back and listened to the wind as Rupert sniffed the air. They glanced at each other, then warily nodded.
Marzell cursed under his breath and hurriedly shoved his letters into the barrel with Aldelbert’s paintings.
Wendal snatched up a spear that leaned casually against the cottage and tossed it to Lord Aldelbert.
The bright-haired lord caught it with ease and whirled it above his head. “We’re ready!” he grinned, his smile as joyful as one of his portraits.
Gregori awoke—either by the sounds of his comrades or the general sense that a fight was coming. He rolled off his bench and somehow miraculously came to his feet with his crossbow loaded and a quiver hanging from his arm.
Angelique gritted her teeth as she finally sensed magic—not another mage. It wasn’t potent enough for that. No, whatever was coming was another magical construct of one kind or another.
She flipped open her satchel and grabbed as many starfires as she could hold. “Snow White, here.” She strode up to the princess and dropped them onto her lap. “Since this attack is during the day, I’m a bit doubtful these will help, but one never knows.”
Angelique glanced to the south, trying to pinpoint anything she could about the incoming creatures, but the magic that was out there seemed strangely warped or muffled. As if someone was half-blocking it.
Snow White cradled the starfires in her arms as she stood up. “Thank you.”
Angelique eased her legs apart into a fighting stance, snarling as she felt vibrations through the soles of her oversized boots.
Looks like the mage decided to send something bigger…
The deep, pained groan of splintering trees filled the woods. Two trees that made up the rim of the clearing around the cottage swayed, then slammed forward, snapping off at their thick trunks like kindling wood.
A monster climbed on top of the decimated trees—another construct.
This one was shaped together with jagged bolts of magic molded into something that was half-human, half-troll. The troll side shone through with its short legs, stooped back, and long arms that it planted in front of itself and leaned on almost like an extra pair of legs.
Although the entire construct was a watery black color, its eyes—which consisted of eerie, perfect holes like the previous constructs—were a fathomless black that made the hair on the back of Angelique’s neck stand on end. It seemed to flicker with power.
Is there…? Why can’t I feel the magic powering it?
She could feel a tiny bit coming off the construct, but its magical signature was even weaker than the previous constructs’, despite the fact that it was easily twice the size of Aldelbert or Fritz.
Angelique tried to flick a bit of her magic at the construct, but it bounced harmlessly off. Her magic! Harmless!