Moon's Flower (Kingdom, #6)

A pretty frown kissed her brows. “I don’t…”

Heart so heavy, it almost hurt, he smiled. “My name is Jericho, and I’m the Man in the Moon.”





Chapter 5


“Le sigh,” the Tiger lily fairy Juniper smiled broadly. “This is so romantic,” her little, bell like voice sighed.

“Aye,” Danika nodded. “It is that, but also quite forbidden.” She fixed a stern brow upon her wee charges. “At least back then it was. The scandal of a human and a fairy falling in love. It’s unheard of,” she harrumphed for that added bit of drama.

“Oh no,” the calalily shook her head vehemently, causing the pollen from her dress to scatter through the breeze. “There’s been many more romances between fairies. Why, Guinevere and Lancelot—”

“Aye,” Danika nodded, “and has that tale been butchered, but that is neither here nor there.” She waved her hand, “fact is, when Jericho and Calanthe fell in love, it had never happened before. They were trendsetters to be sure… but their love, as all great romances are I suppose, was doomed from the start. They just didn’t know it then.”

“No!” the loud cry startled Danika, and it took a moment to realize it’d come from within the shadow to her right. Squinting, she fought a grin when she noticed Genevieve.

“I thought you’d gone abed, Gene,” Danika teased the churlish sprite who finally deigned to step into the light.

But rather than come back with a snappy retort, she continued to shake her head. “They’ve only just gotten together and already you tell us it’s doomed. They haven’t even had a chance. It’s not fair.”

“No, it’s not. I was going to just skip ahead to the betrayal, but if you’d rather hear a wee bit more about their romance, I could of course, go into more detail.” She studied her nails as if she’d be the one doing Genevieve the favor when, in fact, the romance had always been the best part of the story. “Of course there are parts of it that aren’t quite… erm,” she cleared her throat, “PG rated.”

“What is PG?” the primrose asked.

Danika laughed and shushed her. “None of your business, squirt.” Now, how to tell the full romance without it getting graphic for the children?

Then an idea formed, a positively, evilly, wonderful idea that made her lips twitch. The children would never know.

“Gene dear,” she looked at the sprite, “you might want to plug your nose.”

“Huh?” Was all the sprite could say.

The children looked perplexed as Danika herself slipped an invisible band around her own nose. “Children, do understand when you get a little older, perhaps then I might share, but for now…” Letting her words trail off, she slipped her hand into her pocket and took out the one weapon in her arsenal no fairy should ever be without. A tiny gleaming red vial full of noxious gas.

Literally.

Unstoppering the cork, she released the dragon fart into the air. Eyes growing impossibly wide, the children inhaled before they could pinch their noses shut and within seconds they’d all passed out snoring loudly.

Using her wand to whisk a cleansing breeze through the glen, Danika nodded at Genevieve. “The coast is clear.”

Laughing uproariously, the sprite danced to the very front row and sat cross-legged before the fire. “You are truly cruel, Danika,” she chided.

“Bah, dragon’s fart will only keep them slumbering for an hour. By that point I will have gotten through the best part.” She winked. “Now, we haven’t much time…”

*

“The Man in the Moon,” Calanthe whispered and then struck her palm to her forehead. “The moon’s flower! That is you?” Whipping her head around, she stared at him anew. And suddenly the surprise gave way to shock. “You?” The word was just a breath of sound.

He nodded. “You called me to you.”

And where before she’d only been shy, now she was mortified. What did he know? What had he felt? Goddess! She squeaked in her own hand when she thought about the way she’d caressed the petals, how they’d literally seemed to dance and quiver beneath her touch.

Covering her eyes with her hands, she groaned.

But he was gently prying them off her face, and staring at her with eyes that reminded her of rich, fertile soil and she didn’t think. Because if she had, she knew she wouldn’t have done it.

She traced the lines of his mouth with her finger. Moved up the curve of his jaw, across his firm forehead and then back down again. Repeating the action and he let her and this time she understood the quivers in his flesh, understood the popping of muscle… because she hadn’t been tracing just a flower, she’d been touching the man.

Only his hard moan brought her back to the present, to the reality of what she was doing and she snatched her hand back, hugging it tight to her body as if burned. Every instinct in her screaming to get up and run away.