“What?”
“I’m so sorry, but I already have Myla committed for tonight.”
“You do?”
“Oh, yes.” I slap on my most my super-sincere face. “Cissy and I made these plans, oh…”
Why can’t I think of more stuff to say?
“Six weeks ago,” finishes Cissy. “You see, all these gifts have come in from across the after-realms. With so many attendees, that’s a lot of stuff. Myla needs to go through the most important things and tell me where to put them.” Cissy’s eyes gleam. “Some people have even sent live animals.”
Nice one, Cis. Mom is a sucker for stuff like that.
My mother straightens her shoulders. She’s going back into Presidential mode, and that’s not good for me. “But what about all my donors and supporters? I’d love for you to meet them.”
When it really counts, I can lie my ass off, especially with my Mom. “And I want to meet them, truly. But dang it all, I already made this commitment to Cissy to help with the gifts.”
This isn’t bullshit, by the way. We have tons of gifts we’re supposed to sort through.
Cissy steps up. She looks even more sincere. “Myla has to come right away. Like I said, people have been giving animals as gifts. Trouble is, there are all these small, furry, sweet little animals that need Myla’s help.”
Now, there has been the odd animal gift that’s come through, but so far, they’re all roasted and ready for eating. Still, Cissy’s a freaking genius.
“There are even kittens,” I say sadly. “Tons of kittens. And a few baby pandas.” I take care to sniffle. “Which is why we have to go now.”
“What about your dress fitting?” asks Mom. “We were going to do that today.”
No way am I doing a fitting. Mom will wear me down until I agree to the ball. “There are simply too many kittens and pandas, Mom. Besides, Striga can cast a spell to make sure my dress fits. It’s all good.”
Lincoln strides up to stand beside me. “Did you hear?” he asks solemnly. “The kittens are mewling. Poor little things. We can’t keep them waiting.”
For the record, my guy has awesome hearing. Plus, he’s an even better liar than Cissy.
I loop my arm around his waist. “That’s right. Off we go. We’ll check on the gifts and kittens with Cissy, exactly like we planned.”
Although I’m not putting on the best show, Mom still buys it. “All right, I won’t stand in the way of animal health.” Mom kisses me goodbye and walks away. On second thought, I’m not sure she totally bought that story one hundred percent, but as long as I’m not going to the ball, I’m good.
Once Mom’s gone, Lincoln arches his brow. “Gifts? Do you have a list of who sent them?”
“Sure,” says Cissy.
“Does it include Acca?” I ask.
“Does it ever. They’ve invoked some fake thrax tradition where you have to give them a gift back of equal or greater value. It’s rude, in my opinion.”
“But it’s a list of every noble in the House,” says Lincoln.
“Sure.”
Ah-HA! I can see where Lincoln is going with this and it’s an awesome place. Thanks to this gift stuff, we could have us a full list of all the Acca who could be exiled; it’s the exact information that Connor won’t provide.
“It’s super long though,” says Cissy. “Sorry.”
“Not a problem at all,” says Lincoln. “I have the perfect gift for many of them.”
We quickly say our goodbyes and walk away. Cissy stays close. “I hope this isn’t a bummer way to spend the night before your wedding. There really are a lot of gifts that need your attention. As well as that long list of the House members. It won’t be enjoyable.”
I smile. “Honestly? I can’t think of a better way to spend tonight.”
Because I’m not going to fuss about the gifts at all. What I am going to do is plot with Lincoln on how to systematically break up Acca, while my dad takes care of Lucifer’s coin. And that’s what I call fun.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Twenty-four hours later, I’m standing in a stone passageway that leads to the Chapel floor. The place is packed. All the tiered seats are filled with dignitaries, and an even larger crowd is crammed onto row after row of wooden chairs on the Chapel floor. The hum of voices echoes through the stone hallway.
This is really happening. In a few minutes, I’m about to get married.
I fidget in my white gown. What’s wrong with me? I should be overwhelmed with joy. Instead, I can’t shake this odd feeling of foreboding that weighs down my shoulders.
Cissy stands beside me, straightening out my skirt and veil. “You look gorgeous, Myla.”
“Thanks.” The word comes out with a sigh.
Cissy pauses. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“Is it your father? He said he might be late.”
I frown. “He did? When?”
“Well, I didn’t want to worry you, but he couldn’t find some coin or something.”