7
A fternoon dwindled to evening as I added the rest of the ingredients into the cauldron. The steps were relatively straightforward after Alexander’s help. When it came time for the stirring, the strangest feeling came over me, as if my magic were being funneled through the wooden spoon.
Bennett tried multiple times to curl up on my lap, but I shooed him away. I was starting to worry the transformation had altered him not only in body but also in mind.
When I finished, the wood in the stove had burned through. Giselle came back right at sunset, as promised. When she entered the potion room, I was ladling the finished antidote into a wooden bowl. The final result was a runny, vomit green liquid with unpleasant chunks.
“Look at you!” Giselle said. “You made your first potion!”
“And hopefully my last,” I grumbled. A sheen of sweat covered my body and my sleeves were wet and stained. Even if I were an herbwitch, potion-making was most definitely not my calling. It was a good thing Sister Scarlett was not here to see me fail at being a witch too.
I set the bowl on the ground and let Bennett sniff the concoction. He gingerly lapped it up, his little face scrunching at the taste. I had forgone the honey, not only because I couldn’t find any, but because I wasn’t feeling particularly accommodating toward him either.
I waited a second, then two, then recalled what the recipe book said. An hour nap was needed for the potion to work. I glanced worriedly out the window. The sun was just setting in the village, but it was well into the night aboveground.
Giselle raised a finger. “I should warn you, there might be some residual effects.”
I startled. “What? What kind?”
“A boy I knew had a tail when he turned back. And he wouldn’t stop licking himself for a whole month,” Giselle said thoughtfully. “Or was it a year?”
I made a noise at the back of my throat. How was Bennett supposed to attend the Ambassadors Ball with a tail? And heaven forbid he lick himself in front of so many important figures.
“Don’t worry,” Giselle said. “I’m sure your potion will work perfectly!”
When Bennett was nearly finished with the antidote, I knelt next to him and stroked his back.
“How are you feeling?” I asked softly.
He merely gave a sleepy meow and teetered into me. I lifted him from the ground and tucked him over my shoulder.
“You can use my bedroom for the nap if you’d like,” Giselle said, cracking her knuckles. “I’ll stay here and find myself a snack.”
I thanked her, stifling a yawn. She pulled something out of her satchel and dumped a bag into my arms. “For His Highness when he turns back.”
I picked through the shirt, trousers, and boots within. “Wouldn’t he already have clothes on?”
“Not a stitch,” Giselle said cheerily. “The clothes-on potion was a tad too advanced for you.”
BENNETT WAS ALREADY asleep by the time I tucked him into Giselle’s bed.
I quickly changed back into the dressing gown, glad to be rid of the trousers, and sat at the edge of the mattress. Bennett was just a small form beneath the covers. He was achingly adorable. A part of me dreaded him turning back human.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I muttered to myself. “No one wants a cat as a fiancé.”
I rubbed my face. A bit of sleep would get me back into my right mind.
My eyelids felt heavy. Before I knew it, they closed. When they opened again, my head was on the pillow and there was a heavy arm around me, cocooning me in luxurious warmth. The sun had set completely during my slumber, the room dark aside from the lantern at the head of the bed, bathing the room in a flickering golden glow.
The arm at my waist was a familiar tan, the hand masculine and elegantly boned. With some effort I shifted to my other side. My shoulder bumped into a warm chest.
Bennett was back in his human form, still asleep. I assessed his strong jaw, full mouth, and aristocratic nose. Not a whisker to be seen.
“Bennett.” I shook his shoulder, but retracted my hand immediately when I felt bare skin. Good heavens. He really wasn’t wearing a stitch.
“Bennett, wake up.”
He made a soft hum of affirmation, his voice deep and thick with slumber. He did not wake.
“We need to get back before the palace guards are alerted of your absence.”
This seemed to get to him. His eyes fluttered open, startlingly close. They roamed my face, my hair, and settled on the neckline of my dressing gown. Heat rose to my cheeks. For a second, I was terrified he had lost his ability to speak entirely.
That was the reason my heart was pounding so quickly. Not because he was so close.
“What time is it?” Bennett finally asked. His voice was little more than a whisper. He didn’t remove his arm. Some residual cat traits certainly lingered. A love of napping, no doubt.
I sat up, taking care to avert my gaze even in my relief. The mattress gave an ungodly creak as I squinted outside. “It must be past midnight aboveground.”
“The morning shift guards don’t begin until five. Perhaps we can...oh. I’m back.”
I looked over my shoulder. Bennett studied his hands as if he had never seen them before. My face grew even warmer. The blanket had pooled around his waist when he sat up.
“You don’t have a tail, do you?” I blurted out.
Bennett gave a surprised laugh. “No, not anymore. You did it, Cissa.”
I nodded.
The smile lingered on his lips, and I realized with a pang that he hadn’t looked quite so relaxed in a while. Silence stretched between us. I almost reached out to pet him, but noted with some disappointment that he was no longer a cat.
“I’ll tell Giselle,” I said, tightening the belt of my dressing gown.
“Wait.” Bennett touched my wrist.
“What is it?” I sounded more breathless than I wanted to.
Bennett traced a path up my arm, between my shoulder blades, then down my spine. I held still. His warmth seeped through my clothing, his expression curious. Like he was seeing me for the first time.
I jerked away from him. “It’s late. We should go.”
A crease appeared between Bennett’s brows. He dropped his hand, finally looking like himself. “Of course.”