The Bride Tournament (Hexed Hearts Book 1)(23)

“Welcome to our home, Dame Lange.” Lady Irene sauntered forward and exchanged three pert cheek kisses with the dame.

“It’s quaint.” Dame Lange smiled and sniffled, her beady eyes roving the freshly polished mahogany walls.

“Quaint is the perfect word, Mother.” The eldest Lange girl filed in, followed by her four identical sisters. They curtsied as one. Each matched the others with sleek hair, sedate smiles, and slender figures.

“Ah, Lady Irene, you’ve met my oldest, Miss Olivia Lange.” Dame Lange held out a puffy arm to present her daughters. “The rest are as follows: Penelope, Beatrice, Felicia, and little Heather.”

“Idyllic, all of you.” Lady Irene closed the door behind the group with a hard click and a pop of gold flakes. “My daughters, Miss Marigold and Miss Violet.”

Her stepsisters curtsied as prettily as the five. Both girls wore gowns in the color of their namesake and clashed horribly. The charcoal wool of Ellie’s high-necked gown itched along her scraped forearms. It had gotten soaked in the rainy race to and from fetching Rachel. She discreetly scratched her neck where a rash no doubt formed.

Lady Irene, Dame Lange, and the seven girls turned toward the pair of servants. Ellie colored. Rachel jabbed an elbow into her stomach. They dropped into clumsy curtsies. Bloody knees crackled and screamed in pain as she dipped low.

Violet stepped forward. “This is Ell—”

“I don’t care about their names, dear. I don’t expect we’ll be seeing them much.” Dame Lange trod over Violet’s practiced speech. “Now, my girls and I would like to have tea in your parlor as soon as your help can serve us.”





Chapter Six



Lady Irene recovered quickly and ushered the Langes into the ladies’ parlor. “Mint tea, honeyed biscuits, fresh strawberries and sugar icing. Bring their bags in first.”

Ellie nodded at Irene’s tossed commands.

“Wow,” Rachel sighed, “how do you put up with that?”

“I’m not sure.” Ellie scrubbed her palms across her eyes. A stress headache pounded behind her eyelids. “I’ll see to their bags. I know they didn’t bring any help. Do you mind starting tea?”

“Not a problem.” Rachel disappeared into the kitchen.

Ellie stormed out into the increasing rain. Mud splattered her aching legs as she dragged trunk after trunk into the front entryway. By the time she’d unloaded all twenty-seven pieces of luggage, filth caked her gown to her elbows.

“Nice look, Ellie.” Rachel winked, tea tray balanced in her hands. “I’ll serve.”

“Gee, thanks.” She stuck out her tongue. She found a spare rag in the storeroom and wiped down all the trunks.

“They should be good for a while.” Rachel set the tray on an empty table. “Let me help.”

Together, they dragged the twenty-seven labeled trunks up the carpeted steps and into their respective rooms. Rachel made quick work of unpacking the luggage with a snap of her fingers and a shower of golden stars.

Ellie watched, intrigued.

“You could probably do this, too.” Rachel shrugged and pointed to the last of trunks. “Try.”

“I’m not sure how to begin.” She traced the outline of pewter under her scratchy gown.

“How did use your magic at the reception?”

“I don’t know.” She wasn’t sure how she used it to break the town square’s windows, either.

Pulling the gemstone free, Ellie held the warm crystal in her palm. She had no idea what she was capable of. The gem glowed against her skin.

“All I’ve managed is destruction,” she admitted.

Rachel giggled. “I know. Focus on your magic and command it. Tell your magic what you want it to do.”

Silver-blue light shone outward from the necklace, and Ellie focused her gaze on the essence. Umm, open trunk…? The magic gave no heed to her command.

“Try snapping your fingers?” Rachel offered, snapping her own to put away the last of the gowns.

Ellie snapped. The last trunk exploded.

Slivers of damp wood embedded in the plush rug. For a moment, Ellie worried over the destruction, but anxiety quickly morphed to amusement. A surprised laugh bubbled up, and she wiped tears from her eyes in mirth.

Heeled leather shoes and satin slippers peppered the room like the remnants of a bloody war. The little soldiers toppled over and caught in snags of oak furniture.

“Fruitcake.” She sighed.

“You’ve managed to weaponize your magic.” Rachel laughed and gripped her side on a stitch of a giggle.

“The men will be ever-so-jealous.” Ellie winked and wiped away the last of the tears.

Rachel’s eyes widened. “It was you!”

“What do you mean?” She walked around the bedchamber collecting the thrown shoes.

“You broke the windows in the Citadel two nights ago. Meera and Rufus were afraid we were under attack.” Rachel shook her head.

Ellie threw a shoe at the brunette’s head. Rachel snapped her fingers and the shoe sailed across the room to sit neatly in the wardrobe.

“Damn you and your awesomeness.” Ellie tossed the rest of the shoes at Rachel. The brunette effortlessly directed the articles into two perfect rows.