Chapter 6
Nevan
The sun shone through the tall pink and purple stained-glass windows that lined the back wall of the library, splashing the wooden floors with an array of colors.
I loved many things about this castle, but the stained-glass windows might have been my favorite feature.
Every window in this castle was lined with glass panes of all different colors and designs, giving each room its own unique feel.
I shifted in my stuffed armchair, flipping through a book about plants native to bogs across the continent of Aubergn.
I wanted to use more of these plants to create new potions.
The problem was none of the plants in this bog were in the book.
I couldn’t find any documentation of them, and that was yet another mystery.
The earth godwitch had left many texts and tomes about plants they created and their uses and functions.
I wondered if the bog had somehow been created by mistake.
After all, these plants weren’t exactly normal for the earth godwitch.
Their creations tended to be beautiful, useful, safe.
Maybe it was one of their children who created this.
All the godwitches had many children, the demi-godwitches.
Demi-godwitches were responsible for some of the magic left behind as well, so that could be a possibility.
All I knew was that this bog could potentially be full of plants that could create new types of potions never seen before.
Enid could tell me. Except she hated me after that fiasco of a proposal.
A book fluttered over my head and landed on my armchair. Maps were plastered across the cover, and I picked it up to flip through it.
“Find what you’re looking for?”
Morton slithered across the wooden floor, his pink body inching along. The bookwyrm hinged open his mouth. “I can eat the book if you’d like. Tell you anything you want to know.”
I snapped the book closed, eyes feeling tired. “Sure. Thank you, Morton.”
He tilted his head, which resembled a dragon’s head, with his long snout and perked ears. He was an odd creature to behold, and his magic was definitely unique.
I set the book down, and his jaw opened wide, his wings spreading out. He devoured the book, crunching it as bits and pieces of paper flew up into the air. “Very dense,” he said through a mouthful.
“Uh-huh.”
He finished eating the book, belly distended, and let out a loud belch. “Excuse me,” he said.
Then came the disgusting part. Actually, all of this was a little disgusting to witness.
He regurgitated the book, wisps of pink and purple magic dancing in the air as all the pieces came back out, flying in a dizzying whirlwind.
The pieces connected, the book putting itself back together like a puzzle until it was complete again and Morton had eaten all its knowledge.
I leaned back in my chair. “Did you learn anything good?”
Morton tapped his jaw with his scaled tail. “There are a lot of bogs in Aubergn. I never knew how many bogs this continent has. So many bogs! Enough that we could spend an entire month visiting every one and still not see them all. I saw a map of every single bog. Truly amazing.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Okay, what about the Cragh?” I asked. “Anything about it?”
He blinked, his eyes glassy and black. “No. Oddly enough, this bog wasn’t mentioned at all. No maps of it.”
“So you learned nothing helpful?”
Morton glared at me. “You’re very grumpy today.”
I thought about my run-in with Enid this morning and stood. I needed to get back to the lab. I had a lot of patients to see. No doubt there would be more eager women ready to fling themselves at me.
“Does your foul mood have to do with a certain lover?” a chirpy voice said from one of the paintings on the wall behind us.
I turned to see Margaret staring at us from where she stood in a painting of a field. Another sentient object Castle’s magic had brought to life.
“Lover?” I asked the painting. “Where did you hear that?”
Margaret gave a small shrug, her angular brown eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, I was just on a little stroll through some paintings in the throne room last night, and I might’ve overheard you tell your mother you’re courting someone.”
I groaned. Margaret was the castle gossip and the last person I wanted knowing that information. Especially when it had all been a lie.
“Courting someone?” Niamh perked up from behind the counter, her long red hair falling over her shoulders. Niamh had won over my grumpy older brother and was possibly the nicest person I’d ever met. “You’re courting someone?”
Fuck me. I scratched the back of my neck, not sure what to say, especially after Enid had so thoroughly rejected me this morning.
“Oh.” Niamh’s eyes widened, and she shot Margaret a meaningful look. “That’s why you’re grumpy. You’ve had a lover’s quarrel. I’d recognize that look anywhere. Wolfe and I have had many of them.”
I hadn’t realized I was in that bad of a mood.
Morton pointed his tail in my direction. “It’s true! Your ears are turning red. They only turn red when you’re feeling guilty.”
“Thank you, Morton,” I mumbled.
Niamh leaned down, elbows resting on the wooden counter. “Maybe you need a woman’s touch. Tell us what happened, and we can help you.”
Godwitches be. I was going to kill Margaret.
“First tell us who she is!” Margaret pressed her hands together. “Please, please, please.”
“Margaret,” Niamh said with a warning in her voice. “He doesn’t have to reveal anything he’s not comfortable revealing. Just give us the gist of your fight. No names need to be mentioned.”
She smiled gently. I still couldn’t believe Wolfe had managed to get this amazing, sweet, smart woman to fall in love with him, but he had, and he and Niamh were happier than ever. Well, I thought they were. My eldest brother was always so damn grumpy, so it was hard to tell.
Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea. I didn’t have to give them Enid’s name. I could make up a lie that was close enough to the truth and possibly get some actual help with this situation.
I cleared my throat and adjusted my spectacles. “Okay, I visited her this morning, wanting to go public with our relationship. We’ve kept it a secret up to this point so we could get to know each other without being under any kind of public scrutiny.”
Niamh nodded like that made perfect sense. “And she didn’t like the idea of going public?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know if I worded it in the best way. I was trying to be logical. She’s not always well liked, and I told her that going public could improve her reputation.”
That was vague enough. It wasn’t like Enid was the only unlikable person in Fairwitch. She just happened to be the most unlikable.
Niamh’s mouth fell open, and she shot me a look that said you sweet, simple man.
Margaret frowned. “Oh dear.”
Morton stared at me with his large black eyes full of judgment.
“What?” I looked at Margaret. “What’s wrong with that?” I understood it had been a bad approach, but I didn’t know why. “It’s logical. Everyone likes me in Fairwitch. Anyone would be lucky to date me.”
Niamh’s eyebrows pinched together. “Please tell me you didn’t say that too.”
Morton raised his shaggy pink brows. “Even I know you don’t say that to someone, and I’m a bookwyrm.”
“I was appealing to her current reality.” I ran a hand through my hair, still not sure where I’d gone wrong. “I was trying to help her.”
“By insulting her?” Niamh asked.
“Oh, Nevan.” Margaret shook her head, glossy black hair shimmering. “You definitely need a woman’s touch. Listen to Niamh. She’s good with people.”
“I’m good with people,” I said. “I’m the castle healer. I have to talk to people every day.”
“About their wounds and treatment and care instructions,” Morton said. “Not their feelings.”
“Feelings?” I asked, completely lost.
“You clearly hurt her feelings,” Niamh said, exasperated.
“Oh.” I’d assumed I made Enid angry. Not sad. “Well, I didn’t mean to.”
“We know.” Margaret stepped forward in the painting. “You’re sweet, Nevan. But I’m afraid you’re also very na?ve.”
I blinked. “So what does a woman’s touch entail, exactly?”
“Well, for one, it means not insulting her and telling her she needs to fit in.” Niamh straightened, twisting a long red strand around her finger. “You know what finally made me realize how much Wolfe loved me?”
“What?” I asked warily.
“When he made an effort. He got to know me, knew what was important. And then he made a point to do something really sweet and personal. That’s how you get her to go public with you.”
I imagined showing up to Enid’s cottage with a bouquet of flowers and being greeted by that vine again. “I don’t know. She’s a bit . . . prickly.”
Niamh drummed her fingers on the counter. “Maybe I can visit her. If you want to reveal her identity?”
Margaret clapped her hands together. “Can I come too? Please, please, please?”
“Godwitches be,” Morton muttered.
“That might overwhelm her.” I thought about the vine taking Margaret’s painting and chucking it into the bog. I wasn’t sure if Margaret could die since she was a painted character that Castle had brought to life, but I also didn’t think we should test that theory.
Niamh pursed her lips. “Well, what things does she like? Maybe we can help you brainstorm a big gesture.”
“Get her a book!” Morton said.
I hadn’t seen any bookshelves in Enid’s cottage. The only thing I knew she liked was her bog, and I wasn’t sure how I could turn that into a gesture. “I can’t tell you what she likes. It’ll be too revealing, and I don’t want to give our relationship away before she’s ready.”
“That makes sense.” Niamh fell into silence, her mind working through this conundrum.
“The best advice I can give is to think about what’s important to her and use that as a way to appeal to her.
But you also have to speak from your heart about why it’s so important to reveal your relationship.
Don’t go at it from a practical perspective. Speak from here.” She tapped her chest.
I wasn’t sure Enid had a heart, and if she did, I certainly had no idea how to speak to it. Maybe I just needed to give up. Admit defeat and admit to my mother I’d lied. All of this wasn’t worth getting thrown into the bog.
Emoire appeared in the doorway. The same woman whose fake wrist sprain I’d treated yesterday.
“Emoire.” I stood. “What are you doing here?”
She twisted her hands together in front of her. “I heard you were in the library and thought I’d come see you. We got off on the wrong foot yesterday, and I wanted to apologize for my behavior and maybe take you out for a drink?”
Niamh raised her eyebrows at Margaret.
Godwitches be. These women would never leave me alone. I’d told Emoire I wasn’t looking for a relationship, and yet she’d still shown up here. My mother had opened a box I couldn’t close, and it didn’t matter how much I told everyone I wasn’t interested. They wouldn’t stop.
Unless I was already taken.
I thought of Enid and grand gestures and what I could possibly do to get her on board with this plan.
“I actually have to go,” I said and pushed past Emoire.
She stared at me with an open mouth. “But I wanted to—”
“Sorry!”
And with that, I was off, an idea brewing about how exactly I could win over Enid.