She sat as still as a statue and then her wings went crazy, blowing Mina’s hair all over the place. “Oh, that’s a good one.” She laughed and then settled down a bit. “But wait, you didn’t say marry him. If you’re going to make up a lie, you could have at least made it a good one.”
Mina didn’t laugh or continue the banter, which only made Ever more suspicious. Her brows furrowed and she gave Mina a curious glare. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you? You’re not joking.”
Mina felt horrible. She just shrugged her shoulders and didn’t make eye contact.
Ever cleared her throat and pretended to straighten her dress, but she was really moving farther away from Mina. As if she were already severing the physical and emotional connection with her.
Mina sighed and rubbed her forehead. It was probably for the best.
Someone, she wasn’t sure who, felt bad enough for Annalora that they got a wet cloth for her eye. But the way Annalora kept glaring at her out of her one good eye made Mina very uncomfortable.
***
Only one more girl was sent home—leaving a total of eight girls out of the original twelve. Even though it had only been a few hours ago, it felt like Mina had been here days. And much to her dismay, two more days remained before Teague’s betrothal would be announced. She was no closer to finding the reason she’d been sent back to this time. She had yet to find or hear of any clue with which she could save her family.
The remaining girls were each given their own room, and a meal was sent to them. Mina received a plate of mixed greens, berry, and a spiced fruit drink. A porter came to her room and apologized profusely, because someone seemed to have misplaced her trunks. Mina didn’t have the heart to tell him that she hadn’t brought any. She simply said it would be fine. She’d survive.
That seemed to take him aback. He stared at her, clearly perplexed.
Mina looked around the room and realized she’d been here room before. It was a sitting room not far from the bathing room. It had barely changed in a few hundred years, but nevertheless, she’d been here. Teague had presented her with a dress that day, and she’d used Fae magic to change what she was wearing. There was the screen in the corner with the same large mirror. She had never opened the doors to see what was beyond the sitting room.
She did now. A large, impossibly inviting four-poster bed graced a bedroom with a wardrobe and window. Mina went back to the mirror and studied her dress. It had seen better days. The feathers were scattered every which way after being torn loose from her scuffle with Ferah, which saddened her. She really did love this dress.
Taking a deep breath, Mina closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on the electric hum of Fae magic in the air. The air was so thick with it, she could almost taste it. The tough part was gathering it into large enough forms that Mina could harness and direct it. Like when she unintentionally sic’d it on Nan and Brody, causing them to end up in the car accident. And when she’d changed her dress into pants. And every time the Grimoire would shift and change at will for her. Maybe she’d always been the one doing it.
“Sleep clothes.” Mina spoke aloud but was unsure what to do. Her white dress softened and became a long-sleeved high neck chemise. “Oh, um, no. How about pajamas?” she whispered, picturing her favorite set from home. Her dress shrank, slowly shrinking into a pair of pink shorts with hearts and a matching tank with the words heartbreaker on them. Mina was giddy with excitement. She looked down at her glass slippers. Dare she take them off to sleep? It seemed irresponsible to even consider it, but what would happen if they took her back to the present in her sleep? She’d reappear wearing glass slippers and her pajamas. That’s what. But then she might not get back again.
She decided to take the slippers off and crawled into the large four-poster bed, sliding under the covers. She put the slippers on the wooden table with a pitcher of water and a cup. Hopefully she’d see their flashing if they were about to head to the future again, and she’d have time to magic herself into some appropriate clothes before she went with them.
She curled up in the blankets and buried her head in the soft pillow, but realized she’d failed to extinguish the candle on the nightstand. Instead of sitting up and blowing it out, she decided to practice. She waved her hand at the candle in an attempt to extinguish it.
Nothing happened. Really? She fumed.
“Okay, why can’t I blow out a candle?” She wiggled her fingers, but still nothing happened. Frustrated, she crawled from underneath the covers and kneeled in front of the candle. Bringing her hand within centimeters of the burning flame, she felt the heat run along the pads of her fingers. The barest hint of pain ran along the underside, matching the tingling of power from Fae magic. Again, she concentrated and tried to put out the flame.
“Fine. If I can’t stop it, I’ll change it.” This time she imagined the wick dark, cold, extinguished. She thought she saw the flame flicker as if it was going out, but it continued just as before.