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“Oh, dear.” Rose read the letter quickly.

Snapdragon winked one eye open. “No you don’t. I am just getting my nap in. We have weeks before we’re supposed to work again. I plan on sleeping straight through.”

Even Pansy nodded. “It’s in the Fairy Employment Contract. No assignments back to back. Mage War Clause. We all needed a few decades sleep after that.” She leaned back in her rocking chair and propped her feet on a flying cushion.

“Nevertheless, we have new orders.” Rose moved to the scrying pool.

Snapdragon reached out her hand. “Give me that.”

Rose floated the letter across the room. “It won’t say anything different to you.”

“This isn’t fair,” Snapdragon complained. “How come we get all the tough jobs?”

Pansy stood and smoothed out her dress. “Send it back, Rose, I’ll go look up the proper notations.”

Snapdragon grinned wickedly. “That is a wonderful idea.”

Rose was already swirling her hand in the water. “Whatever you think best. In the meantime, I plan on doing my job. It’s not fair for them to suffer while we bicker among ourselves. Go on,” she added as the scene solidified and took shape. “I’ll get started just in case.” She smiled as she bent her head over the bowl.

Snapdragon hesitated. “Maybe we should have a little peek first.” She peered over Rose’s shoulder. “Oh, he’s very different, isn’t he?”

“And she is quite unique,” Pansy added from the other side of the pool.

They all giggled and settled down to watch with rapt attention.

“You cannot be serious, my liege.” Wynn gazed in horrid fascination at the worst-dressed female he had ever seen. “Marry her?”

Even from this far across the great ballroom, her dress stood out in a nightmare of mismatched colors. The skirt was green, the bodice red, and the kirtle underneath was the brightest pink Wynn had ever seen. It hurt his eyes just to look at it, and offended sensibilities he didn’t know he had.

King Edred smiled. The expression was not meant to comfort. “Lovely, isn’t she, the new Lady of Seville? It will take some training in proper etiquette—and a new seamstress—but she could be a great asset to a manespecially a man such as yourself.”

Wynn faked nonchalance while his brain scrambled frantically to follow the king’s line of thought. “Why would a-man-such-as-myself need her for a wife?”

“She has a title, Master Builder.”

“We’ve been through this before, my king.” Wynn tried hard to control his expression. “No noble family will let one of their daughters marry me. They fear a child would be born with my particular affliction.”

“Ah, but the beauty of it is, this lady has no family. Have you not heard her story?” Edred was watching Wynn closely.

“You know I pay little attention to court gossip.”

“Her family was tried and executed during the Marshton witch trials. I was recently given documentation proving those accusations were false. Richard Nolan and Peter Marshton—pious man of the church he was—conspired to amass a considerable fortune by the torture and murder of several prominent families. This woman is the only living relative to come forward so far.”

“You believed her?” Wynn could not keep the skepticism from his tone.

Edred scratched his crotch. “I truly don’t care who she is. I restored her title and lands. Now you will make the best of it.”

Wynn kept his anger in check. While Edred was an amiable and generous king, there were times when he refused to take no for an answer. Wynn was certain this was just such a time.

“Have you informed her of this?” Wynn’s eyes remained riveted on the garish sight the woman made. “She may not like the husband you have chosen.”

Edred motioned for a passing servant to bring them two goblets of wine. “She was brought to us by the Dunmore family. Use your influence.”

Wynn jerked his eyes from the woman and fastened them on the king instead. “Ladies Finella and Samantha are involved?”

Edred grinned wolfishly. “Up to their meddling eyebrows. Your surrogate mothers have put pressure on me every step of the way. Seems they feel somewhat responsible for the girl. She is a friend of Lord Dunmore and his new bride.” Edred nodded to several nobles who stopped to bow as they passed. They did not so much as glance at Wynn. Wynn gritted his teeth, feeling the muscle pulse in his jaw.

“By the way, there is something else you should know.” Edred’s grin grew.

“What is that, Your Majesty?”

“She was a whore.”

Wynn refused to choke on the sip of wine he was trying to swallow when the king hit him with that bit of information.

“I won’t bother to lie,” Edred continued without pause, “the match would be good for both of you.”

“Because in my own way I am as outcast as she?”

Edred shrugged. “Marry her and become Lord Seville. She gains the protection and money you can offer, you gain her family title and all that goes with it. Only a nobleman can be made Lord High Mason.”

Wynn’s heart started to pound. Edred was offering him the one position he had always desired and a fairly easy way to achieve it. Marry the lady as ordered. A simple, uncomplicated business arrangement that would suit both their needs. Surely she would see the wisdom in the match. He knew Edred saw the hope that flashed across his face, but for once Wynn did not bother to hide it. “To marriage,” he said, raising his glass for a toast.

Edred did not repeat the gesture. “The Chamber of Lords will meet in four weeks to decide the new appointments. Lord High Mason is a lifetime position—you won’t have another chance at it. I suggest you woo the lady quickly.” The king inclined his head to where several young lordlings had surrounded the woman’s small form. “The pack is already closing in.”

Wynn bowed. He had been dismissed. Blending into the shadows at the edges of the room, he made his way to where she stood. Her gown acted like a beacon, its clashing colors keeping her in sight as Wynn strode slowly toward her.

As he moved, he planned his attack. His appearance had forced him to become a master at perfection. Every word, every gesture, elegant and controlled. He would make his proposition to the lady with poise and grace. He could mold the homely country bumpkin into a cultured lady of court, offer his experience in exchange for her bloodline.

A perfect opportunity for both of them.

Approaching cautiously, Wynn stared down the simpering lordlings one by one. He paid no attention to the disdain that filled their eyes. He had seen it all before, and cared less for them than the mangy dogs that skulked the palace grounds, tails tucked hard between their legs.

When he was close enough to make out her features, Wynn stared at the lady in silent surprise. With hair the color of the midnight sky, a black so dark it was almost blue, and dusky skin that gleamed in the glow of the thousand candles that lit the room, she was without a doubt the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He thought her head would barely clear his shoulders, and the curves filling out that ghastly gown made him unable to peel his eyes away.

Wynn froze, hesitant to speak, his newly made plans melting like shadows from his mind.