Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 119694 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119694 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
I laugh.
“That’s… very specific.”
Next to it is a box of dark chocolate truffles dusted with red sugar. The label reads, Heart’s Delight—Infused with Pomme de sang Reduction.
“I’m getting these,” Hanna declares immediately. “I don’t even care what they’re for.”
Nearby, a small, refrigerated case holds wedges of cheese—some deep red marbled with white, and others nearly black with veins of scarlet running through them.
“Blood cheese,” Marilla says fondly. “Pairs beautifully with a full-bodied red wine.”
I stare at the cheese, intrigued.
“I bet it does.”
Then we reach a rack of aprons hanging near the counter, and Hanna snorts.
“Oh my God, Jules—look at these.”
I step closer and read the sayings printed across the front of the aprons in bold, playful lettering.
BITE ME—POLITELY
KEEP CALM AND DRINK BLOOD
I’M NOT GRUMPY, I’M JUST THIRSTY
I burst out laughing.
“I kind of want all of them,” I admit. “They’re too funny!”
Hanna holds one up to her chest with a pair of vampire fangs dripping blood and the saying, BITE THE CHEF.
“This would kill at a Halloween party,” she says.
Alfred and Marilla beam at us, clearly delighted by our reaction to their merchandise.
“Please,” Alfred urges, spreading his hands wide. “Take whatever you like as a souvenir.”
“Oh—I couldn’t,” I say quickly, putting down the apron. “I don’t have any money, and I don’t want to just take your things.”
Before either of them can respond, our bodyguard—who’s been hovering discreetly near the door this whole time—steps forward.
“Lord Lucian has asked me to inform you that anything you choose to buy will be paid for by him,” he says calmly.
He lifts a leather pouch and gives it a shake, and it clinks with the unmistakable sound of gold coins.
“So please,” he adds, “shop to your hearts’ content—both of you.”
“Oh my God—that’s really nice of him!” Hanna exclaims. “Shopping spree! I love it!”
I can’t help smiling because I know how much Hanna loves to shop. She once confessed to me over wine that she’d had to attend a shopping addiction support group because she’d racked up so much credit card debt.
But Lucian is paying and honestly, he can afford it. So even though I’m usually pretty frugal myself—except when it comes to Mr. Mittens—for once, there’s no guilt.
We wander the store like kids in a candy shop, selecting jars of blood candy, wedges of cheese wrapped carefully in wax paper, bottles of deep red cider made from Pomme de sang, and—yes—two aprons each.
Alfred grins broadly as he carries our growing pile to the old-fashioned push-button register, and Marilla rings everything up with cheerful efficiency.
By the time we’re done, we’ve accumulated a mountain of shopping bags.
Our bodyguard pays with thick golden coins stamped with a chalice on one side and an eclipsed sun on the other. As he gathers the bags, he inclines his head.
“If my Queen is ready, the Vineyards down the road are awaiting your royal arrival.”
Right—the vineyards and the wine and cheese tasting. I’ve been having so much fun, I almost forgot.
“Oh yes,” I say, excited all over again. “I think we’re ready.”
We thank Alfred and Marilla profusely, and before I quite know what I’m doing, I step forward and hug Marilla.
She stiffens in surprise, then hugs me back, her arms warm and solid.
“Thank you, my Lady, for gracing us with your presence,” she says, blushing faintly.
“No,” I reply honestly. “Thank you for having us. We had a wonderful time.” And I really mean it.
Hanna hooks her arm through mine as we head back toward the carriage, shopping bags rustling and the scents of apples and candy and cheese clinging to us.
For the first time since I came to the Shadow Realm, I don’t feel like I’m just surviving here.
I feel… welcome and not just by Lucian. The people in his kingdom seem nice—at least, Alfred and Marilla are. I hope I’ll meet more like them at our next stop.
I have no idea what trouble Hanna and I are about to get into.
52
Jules
The carriage rolls on, the rhythm of the wheels steady and soothing as we leave the orchard behind and travel deeper into Lucian’s territory.
The vineyards spread out before us in long, graceful rows, draping the land like ribbons. The earth here is dark and rich, almost black-red, turned and tended with care. Vines twist along low trellises, heavy with clusters of grapes that glow in shades of garnet, dusky gold, and deep violet. Leaves rustle overhead, their edges kissed with autumn—burnt orange, copper, and crimson. The air smells like sun-warmed fruit and soil and something faintly metallic underneath it all, like rain on iron.
The red sun hangs low in the sky, softer than the human sun but warmer than the moonlight I remember from my escape. Its reddish-gold light bathes everything in perpetual Fall. This, I think, this is what autumn is supposed to feel like. Not Florida’s sad brown leaves dropping overnight, but a slow, glowing transformation.