Page 19 of Kiss and Spell
He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know if you have any plans for the equinox. I’d like to formally invite you to join us.”
Ursula toyed with her keys, twisting them between her fingers. A fae prince was personally inviting her to a party. Old Ursula would’ve texted her cousins to enlist them in helping her find the perfect outfit to impress Xavier. This year’s Ursula was grumpier and a whole lot wiser. Why invite her? Xavier probably snapped his fingers and people came running to entertain this royal fae. He probably invited all the Grove to keep him company and amuse him for the evening. Guests would be clamoring for his attention, and he’d forget about her when someone more interesting would come along. She’d be just another guest. It was on the tip of her tongue to turn Xavier down, but then she looked into his eyes and saw it—a flash of vulnerability that was so quick she might have missed it. Ursula recognized that emotion because she’d seen it in herself whenever she looked in the mirror.
“I don’t have many friends in the Grove,” he said in a low steady voice. “It’d be nice to know someone else at the party.”
His eyes went down to his shoes as he studied the cracks in the sidewalk. A slight frown played on his lips. Her heart ached for him. She knew from firsthand experience what it was like to scroll through your phone and feel like there was no one you could call. To share your troubles with. Ursula wanted to chase that frown away and make him feel better. To make him feel seen.
“Well, wait until you meet the gnomes. They don’t quit.” Ursula gave a full-body shudder. She’d spent countless hours helping Nana clean up the herb garden after the gnomes got a little buck wild after a full moon.
Xavier looked up from the ground and laughed. He had an enjoyable laugh—it sounded like melodic summer rain on the roof and made her feel warm and light.
“I’d be honored to have you there,” he said in a lower, huskier tone.
She stared wordlessly at Xavier, her heart pounding in her ears. From his tone, it was becoming clear that he wasn’t handing out party invites like restaurants handed out take-out menus. This invite was meant just for her. It was the equinox, and she didn’t want to be alone tonight.
It was time to dry her tears and welcome the spring.
“I have to watch the shop until the power’s fixed. I might be late,” she said.
“I’ll wait for you,” he said. “We should exchange numbers.” Ursula nodded, took out her phone, and pointed to the camera lens. “May I? I get so many spam calls, I take pictures of my contacts,” she explained.
A look of confusion crossed his face. “There’s so much I don’t know about this world.”
“Well, I’m here to help.”
Xavier posed, one hand in his pocket and one hand to his chest as she snapped a photo of him for his contact page. She studied his picture, her throat itching with thirst. If you searched the words “sexy whimsy professor aesthetic” online, you’d end up with an image that would closely match Xavier. He was effortlessly photogenetic, while Ursula believed the last time she looked great in a picture was back in grade school. The jazzy blue and green laser backdrop made her look adorable, in her opinion.
“May I?” Xavier held up his phone. She nodded. He snapped a picture of her, stared at it for a long moment, then smiled. “Lovely.”
She bit her lip to keep smiling.
They exchanged numbers and chatted for a moment about the weather. She didn’t want him to leave yet, but she didn’t have a reason for him to stay. Just when she was going to ask him in for tea, his phone buzzed. Xavier made a concerned face.
“I’m being summoned back to the house. There was a mix-up. Apparently, one of the caterers accidentally brought an iron grill.”
Ursula winced. “Oh, that’s bad.” Those folks who knew their fae lore were aware that iron items were toxic to these beings.
Xavier bowed slightly at the waist. “Until tonight, Madame.”
Charmed, Ursula gave him her biggest smile. He watched her, seemingly dazed for an instant, then turned away and walked down the sidewalk. Her fingers touched the rose tucked behind her ear. She felt the enduring fae magic, soft like dew water, on its petals. Her brain raced to recall what an orange rose symbolized. Ursula uttered a breathy laugh of wonder once she remembered its meaning. This flower represented bright energy and strength, two things that she desperately needed. She pressed a hand to her chest to quell her racing heart.
Slow down, Sula.
Princes like Xavier didn’t exist except in pages of her storybooks and in her late-night dreams. She’d convinced herself that a man like him simply didn’t exist. She’d told herself this story so she could swallow her doubts and finally commit to Lincoln. But Xavier was as real as the bare trees above her head and the morning sunlight falling on her hair. Even though her brain whooped and warned her about falling for the fairy tale again, she let herself indulge in this moment.
Chapter Seven
We’ve arrived at your destination.”
Ursula’s phone chirped as she drove up to the residence in question. She looked out her car window and whistled loudly. Come through, Gilded Age realness. The manicured grass stretched out into the darkness, and down in the near distance was the wide Grove Lake. The water sparkled in the moonlight. Sleek luxury cars were parked neatly in the driveway, illuminated by path lighting. The house was at least two stories, and the wide doorway was filled with party guests clutching snack plates and half-empty glasses. Ursula parked down the street and made her way on foot back to the house. Under her breath, she whispered the mantra to keep herself from turning back, going home, and changing into her pajamas.
Be the enchantress.
She walked into the foyer and made her way into the main ballroom. The space was decorated with pastel ribbons and bunches of gardenias in tall vases. Her pulse kicked up with every step. Guests wore flowers pinned in their hair, draped around their necks, and woven in thick bushy beards. Oh no. Ursula shoved down the rising sense of alarm that she was seriously underdressed for the night. She’d let her gemstones be her decoration for the evening rather than spend money on flowers. Money was tight since she had to replace all the spoiled food in her apartment. Tonight was the first time she’d been to a party without a date by her side in years, so she needed to make a statement. Come at me, universe.
Only a color as fierce and bold as the sea would give her the confidence she needed.
A color like aquamarine. Ursula knew the stone with the same name gave the wearer a calm heart for difficult times. Right now, as she faced various expressions of surprise or pity from partygoers who either knew who she was or had heard her story, she drew strength from the color.