Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 128893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
The dark green robe was a perfect fit too, wrapping around my waist with a long sash. The color made my hair sparkle with auburn and red highlights and brought out my gray-green eyes to perfection. I wondered if the receptionist herself had picked it out or if some benign magic had designated it just for me. Who or whatever had chosen it for me, I was grateful. It felt and looked wonderful and the slippers that matched it fit me to a T and made my cold toes toasty warm.
After the long, strange day I’d had, I had a feeling things were finally looking up. And I wanted to get some answers to many of my questions during dinner…if I could ask in a way that wouldn’t make the black key necklace try to strangle me, that was.
“You behave,” I murmured to it, cupping the tiny lump in my hand, where it lay under the pristine white nightgown. “I won’t give away your secret but I need to find some things out if we’re ever going to make sense of all this.”
I felt a reluctant kind of agreement coming from it. Was I crazy to think it was a living, sentient being that I could actually communicate with? It certainly hadn’t seemed so when I had put it on and then couldn’t take it off in the flea market. But things had changed from the moment I first stepped foot in Nocturne Academy. Not just a few things either—everything.
I wondered what else would change…and what I would find out in the hours to come…
19
“Oh, you look snug as a bug in a rug!” Kaitlyn exclaimed, smiling behind her long curtain of hair as I emerged from the bedroom. “That color looks great on you.”
“Thanks.” I twirled once to show off my dark green robe. Jammy-britch fashion show. “I feel pretty snug—and pretty hungry too,” I admitted, looking hopefully at Avery. “Er…is it done?”
“To a turn.” He came over and handed me a wooden tray with an elaborately decorated china plate and a linen napkin with my initials embroidered on it. But as gorgeous as the table setting was, the roasted pork loin and crispy little baby potatoes on the plate took most of my attention.
“This looks amazing!” I exclaimed. “I didn’t know you made potatoes too.”
“Well, I put them in the roasting pan under the spit—that way they get flavored with the drippings,” Avery remarked.
“But…” I shook my head. “How did you learn to cook like this? I mean, I’ve never heard of anyone cooking with a spit unless they were camping out or living in the Middle Ages.”
“Well, it wasn’t by choice, believe me,” Avery said dryly. “But modern things like microwaves don’t work here in the castle.”
“Too much magical interference,” Kaitlyn explained, around a mouthful of potato. “That’s why cell phones don’t work half the time either.” She and Emma were already seated on either end of one of the couches with plates of their own, eating.
“So…I had to make do with what we had down here. And since this is a dungeon what we have is a fireplace and a spit. Oh, and a roasting pan which I provided myself.” Avery grinned. “Which means we have lots of roasted meats and veggies—it’s kind of my specialty now.”
“You must have decorated the dishes and napkins too,” I said admiringly as I settled on the second couch. “They’re gorgeous.”
“Why thank you.” He got his own plate and sat in one of the overstuffed chairs opposite me. “It’s so nice to be appreciated!”
“We appreciate you, Avery!” Emma and Kaitlyn chorused together.
“You’re the best,” Kaitlyn added.
“I am, aren’t I?” Avery preened a little and then took a bite of his pork. “Mmm—delicious if I say so myself.”
He was right—the roast pork loin and crispy little potatoes were absolutely perfect. I was so hungry I wanted to gobble everything up but after a few bites I made myself slow down and take my time, savoring every delicious bite.
We had bottled water to drink from Kaitlyn’s supply. “It’s important to stay hydrated,” she lectured us. Avery attempted to change the water into champagne to toast “our newest arrival” meaning me, but in this, he wasn’t very successful.
“Transformation spells were never my thing,” he admitted as we sipped the weak, vaguely wine-flavored water which was still better than nothing.
After we were finished, I was looking for a place to wash the dirty dishes but Avery simply did a housecleaning spell and all of them were suddenly spotless.
“That’s amazing,” I said enviously as he stacked the sparkling china dishes, clean silverware, and snowy white napkins in a small wooden hutch that stood against the stone wall. “I wish I could do something like that.”
“It’s not hard,” Avery said. “Actually, it’s one of the first spells I figured out on my own. I hate it when things aren’t tidy.”