Chapter Seven
Hart
Abanging on the door to our wing breaks the heavy silence as Daphne processes Theo’s spiral.
I don’t know if we can get him back, as he’s retreated inside his dragon form for so long that I fear he’s beyond our reach.
But if anyone can crack through those thick scales, it’s Daphne.
She alone has the power to bring our brother home.
Charming swings the door open, revealing a frowning Merlin who still has the damn crown in his hands like he’s ready to toss it on my head the tempo he sees me. He steps inside, his gray eyes narrowed on Daphne.
“The kingdom is still gathered for your coronation, Your Majesty,” he says.
“It’s canceled on account of my love returning,” I answer.
He blinks. “She was never dead?”
Which way to play this? The kingdom was thrown into grief when the four of us returned from the Grimm’s, each broken by the loss of a maiden we never saw coming. We could neither hide nor deny it, so the folks fell into mourning alongside us as they waited for me to rise and claim the crown.
Without a king, the people felt lost and untethered, and we were worried the Idols would start to intervene. That’s the reason we agreed to move forward—to buy us time while we learned the implications of having only one half of the Grimm bloodline leading the way.
“I was dead,” Daphne declares. Okay, I guess we’re going with the truth then.
“But her love is strong enough to defy the stars that held her captive,” Nash says.
Merlin nods like he foresaw this in whatever weird magic shit he does in his tower. He didn’t. He’s the worst Merlin to date; the man can’t even find a pair of matching socks, never mind predict a future.
“That being said, you still need to be coronated,” Merlin points out.
Malachi places a hand on Merlin’s chest and walks him out of the still-open door. “Take a hint. Not today, Merlin.”
Charming slams the door closed on the wizard’s scowling face while Gwyneth grabs Daphne’s hand and tugs her toward the sofa.
It’s for the best, considering each of my brothers looks like they want to devour Daphne, and I’m not sure how much of a leash Nash has on his beast. My guess?
It’s fraying, and when it does, Daphne needs to be ready.
We talked about this at length before we lost her.
He’s terrified he’ll hurt her, but he doesn’t realize that a love as deep as what Daphne has gifted each of us usurps trivial things like his predetermined future.
Does he understand now that it was his words that brought her back to us?
He couldn’t hurt her any more than we could.
Charming sits on the arm of the sofa next to Gwyneth, making Daphne scowl. I should have murdered him.
All of us gravitate toward the sofa, settling around Daphne on whatever surface is available. As much as I want to be the one sitting beside her while we get all the questions out of the way, I recognize that Gwyneth just got her only family back. The wound she bore was far greater than ours.
Genie floats in front of the fire; the capons are hunched underneath Hart’s feet, clucking with contentment. The broom is draped across the back of the sofa.
Daphne glances around. Please don’t ask about Theo again. We have told you all we know, and just for tonight, we have to remind ourselves that you are here before you set off on some quest to rescue our brother.
“There are no mirrors,” she whispers. “Eron?”
Gwyneth grimaces. “We keep them hidden or covered. He’s not himself.”
“How so?” Daphne wonders.
“He lost you.”
She jerks back. “But he has others.”
Malachi shakes his head. “He lost you because you saved him. His guilt is unbearable, and with his fractured mind, he gets even more confused.”
Nash leans forward. “We have to repeat the events to him almost every diurnal. It’s soul-destroying watching him crumple.”
“And reliving it again and again isn’t healthy,” Charming adds.
“Ain’t that the truth,” I grumble.
Daphne’s lips press together in a tight line. “Can someone get a mirror now? I feel like he should be here as we discuss what happened.”
I meet Nash’s steady gaze, and he sighs before getting to his feet and retrieving a long mirror from his chambers. He leans it against the wall, and we stare at the reflective surface.
“Eron?” Daphne says, her voice wobbling with emotion. “Are you there?”
Everyone holds their breath, and then the surface shimmers and Eron’s familiar face appears. “Fairest Doris, you are looking most alive tonight.” He frowns as if he’s unsure of his words.
Daphne launches from the sofa and rushes to the mirror before dropping to her knees and hugging him.
“Once more you are gifting me with a view of your most voluptuous bosom. Stop fussing, Eric. I can comment on the maiden’s figure without doodling.”
Daphne laughs, but it’s a wet sound. “He means drooling,” she chokes out.
“That’s what I said. Now release me so I can look at you. It feels like an eternity since I saw you last.”
She leans back and hangs her head. “It has been an eternity.”
“A few weeks,” Charming mutters.
“Six weeks,” I correct, checking the clock above the hearth. “Three diurnals, four turns, and thirty-six tempos.”
Daphne blinks her wet eyes at me over her shoulder, her mouth hanging open. I don’t care that I’ve revealed how much her absence has affected me.
Eron’s face squashes against the surface of the mirror as he attempts to get closer to Daphne. She turns back to him and touches her fingers to the surface. “You aren’t quite whole,” he observes.
“I’m here,” she answers.
“But not altogether there.”
“That would be because I am missing my dragon.”
He shakes his head, his squashed nose squeaking against the surface. “Your soul. It’s fractured, but not lost.” He moves back and looks around the room with a firm nod. “But it is safe.”
“We have part of her soul?” Malachi questions.
“It’s a consequence of the wish,” Genie points out. “To tether a soul already in the arms of the stars is no mean feat, and it cannot be done with a flick of the wrist and a few whispered words.”
A terrifying and yet logical summary of how Daphne is now linked to us through more than a budding heat. How we are tied together in more than heart and words. There’s an undeniable future, and she is at the center, alongside her sister.
“We need to speak about our bloodline,” Gwyneth says, as if she heard my thoughts.
“Can’t it wait?” Malachi groans.
I understand his urgency in reconnecting with Daphne, alone, with nothing between us. But the more we deal with now, the longer uninterrupted time we will have with her.
I rise and stalk toward the woman I love, still kneeling on the floor. I offer her my hand, which she takes, and I haul her to her feet. “We aren’t going anywhere. You do what you need to do first, and we will be by your side.”
She nods and runs her mouth over my own in a sensual promise, and it takes everything I have not to demolish my words and steal her away.
Instead, I guide her back to the sofa and settle her between Malachi and Gwyneth.
Her sister drags in a breath, and Charming squeezes her shoulder.
I can’t fault his dedication, even if his personality is abhorrent.
“Do you remember how the brothers, Jacob and Wilhem, were handing over the reins of the kingdom to us after wishing to retire due to the Idols’ behavior?”
Daphne nods. “I remember.”
Gwyneth twists her lips as she tries to find a way to summarize weeks of research into both the Grimm’s bloodline and the future implications.
“We hold the power to change the course of the realm, but the magic that started the Hallows is now built around the original Idols and their continued insistence on the narratives playing out. It’s what keeps them alive.
If people stray, the Idols grow weaker.”
“That’s why they’re so insistent,” Daphne says. “They aren’t content with the life they’ve been gifted; they want to steal more time by forcing people into unhappy lives.”
“So they punish those that stray or disobey,” Nash rumbles.
“Wow, this is quite fascinating. Eric, bring the popcorn,” Eron demands. “No, not the weird sweet and salty mix. Pick one so my mouth isn’t surprised by what is put inside.”
Is it weird that Daphne and Eron sound related?
Gwyneth licks her lips as she prepares to outline what we’ve been circling for weeks. “We want to end the reign of Idol worship.” The words cling to the air, and we wait to be struck down. I glance at the ceiling. Nope. All good here.
Daphne clasps her sister’s hand between hers. “I’m ready to write a new future, one where I keep my toes and eyes.”
What?
“I regret ever being a part of something so terrible,” Charming says, sounding genuine. It’s odd, and it makes me curl my lip.
I doubt he’s a reformed character; more like one who has fallen for a Stone sister with no hope of getting over her. That I can understand.
Daphne jerks her head. “What is Prince Poopfloof doing hanging around like he’s one of us?”
Gwyneth glances at him, then back at her sister. “It’s complicated.”
I’ll say. I could make it less complicated with a slip of my blade.
“It won’t be easy,” Nash says, returning to the topic of the Idols. “They will try to stop you.”
“Let them,” Daphne answers, squaring her shoulders. “The era of blind Idol worship is over. We need less Hallows and more chaos. It’s time for freedom, for us to live the life we want, not the one we’re born into.”
Gwyneth releases a long sigh. “I thought I’d be doing this alone,” she whispers. “I was terrified.”
“I’m here now and not going anywhere,” Daphne reassures her.
“Good. First thing tomorrow, we should head back to Hallows Castle and consult with the All Knowing.”
Malachi winces. “We kind of left the library in a state.”
“I saw,” Daphne says. “It wasn’t pretty. But good news, I gave the key librarian a new job and now he’s sorting it out.”
“You gave him a job? Just like that?” Malachi asks.
Daphne shrugs. “I thought he could get on with the cleanup while I came to get you guys. The All Knowing was most displeased with the mess.”
The broom shivers in response.
Daphne jumps to her feet and places her hands on her hips. “So what’s first in this let’s rip up the rule book and write a new future plan?”
Her stomach makes the longest, lowest growl I have ever heard.
Gwyneth arches a brow. “I believe—”
“Sausage,” Daphne interrupts. “Can’t start a revolution without a good sausage.”
And she’s back…