Chapter 175

Sarah POV

When I finally got back to the villa, Hans greeted me at the door.

“Mistress?” he asked, which he’d started calling me a few weeks ago. He was so very proper and reserved when he said it that I didn’t dare to correct him.

“Yes, Hans?”

With a minuscule bow, he handed over an envelope. Only when I took it did I notice a somewhat indulgent look on his face, but then he turned away and walked down the hallway toward the kitchen, probably to see about lunch.

I open the envelope and found fancy ticket drawn on an index card. It was charming as hell, and I knew I would keep it forever before I even read it.

The pleasure of your company is requested at 4 p.m. this afternoon in the Tea Room.

“I see you got one too,” I heard Zane say and looked up to see him walking up the hallway toward me, ticket in hand.

“Yes. I’m guessing the Tea Room is their playroom?” I asked, keeping it all very casual.

“I’d guess the same, as we’ve been instructed to keep away from there as well the kitchen.”

“The kitchen?” I was actually pretty hungry.

“Lunch has been provided with brown bags delivered to our studies.” He smiled at me, and I tried just to smile back. See? No agenda here.

“I’ll see you at 4 o’clock,” I said and waved my ticket before walking past him. He just nodded and looked pleasant, which hurt a bit. But then, I was probably hurting him too.

Would we have to separate to keep from hurting each other when all this resolved itself? Would we not even be able to stay friends?

I spent the time from lunch (a sandwich, apple, and little carton of milk) to four, I worked on a revised curriculum for a human-first werewolf-third-level class in mathematics and tried not to fidget. Lainey sent an email about how Ted and Delia had already made up their own off-shoot project to set up an app that could help detect texts and voicemails from potentially abusive sources, including friends, lovers, business partners, and spouses. I wrote back with enthusiastic support.

I changed into a white linen suit and did my make-up for the tea and then arrived promptly at the “Tea Room” door, where Zane was already waiting. We smiled at each other, and then he knocked.

The opened to Chloe, who was dressed in black pants and a white shirt. “May I see your tickets, please?”

We showed them. Chloe solemnly took a hole-punch from her pocket, punched the tickets one by one, and then returned them. I put mine carefully in my purse, and Zane put his just as carefully in his breast pocket.

“If you’ll come this way,” she said, gesturing. We walked in, and a small table had been set up in the middle of the room. I saw all the toys had been put away except for the large puppet theatre that had been set up facing the table.

On the table was the familiar sight of a three-tiered tea tray sat loaded with scones and sandwiches, a teapot, and two teacups on saucers. Chloe led us to the table and even helped me with my chair as I sat.

“I hope you enjoy your tea with us today,” she said. “My name is Chloe, so just tell me if you need something.”

“This all looks wonderful,” I said.

“Very nice,” Zane said. “We’ll have to remember this place.”

Chloe cut off a giggle and made a little bow. Then she walked primly behind the puppet theatre.

“I’ll pour, if you like,” Zane said, reaching for the teapot.

“Of course,” I said, completely at ease with him now that we were playing make-believe. “Smells like oolong.”

“It does, but with a hint of nutmeg,” he said.

I nodded, then doctored my tea with a little sugar. While it cooled, I put two of the little sandwiches on my plate.

“Lady and gentleman!” called Grace from behind the puppet theatre curtain. “Welcome to tonight’s performance of “Two Little Princesses.”

Zane and I applauded.

Classical music I recognized but didn’t know the name of, something sad, started to play, and the curtains were pulled back.

A puppet “walked” in from the left. I recognized the puppet as the little blond-haired girl that Grace had owned before I moved in, but they had given her a paper crown and fancied up her dress with what I recognized as Grace’s headband I had made almost a year ago.

“I’m so lonely,” the puppet said in Grace’s voice. “I have no one to play with, no one to tell secrets to, and no one to play games with.”

A male puppet with a heavy crown walked in from the right, and a deep version of Chloe’s voice said, “I love you, but I can’t play with you all the time. I have many responsibilities as king.”

The puppets hugged. “I know, King Daddy,” the princess said. “You’re the best daddy in the world, but you cannot just magically make me a friend.”

“I wish I could,” said the king. He walked back the way he came. The music changed and became almost sinister.

A wizard puppet I knew well walked on stage. “I can make a magic friend for you, Princess, but you will have to give me your voice.”

“I know that trick!” the princess said. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

Zane and I laughed as the wizard walked off in a huff.

The music went back to being sad, and then it got happy as a second princess wearing a paper crown and Chloe’s headband around its dress walked on stage.

“Hello!” she said. “I’m a princess. Are you a princess too?”

“Yes!” said the first princess. “I am! It’s so great to meet you!”

The princesses hugged.

“Think of all the games we can play!” the first princess said.

“Think of all the secrets we can share!” the second princess said.

“This is the best day ever!”

“Yes, it is!”

The music became a waltz, and the puppets began to dance to it. The princesses sang along together:

We’re now best friends! (Oh yes, we are!)

Best friends to the end! (Oh yes, we are!)

We’ll play some great games! (And we’ll both win!)

And trade secret names! (Through thick and thin!)

And when we are grown!

And have our own homes!

We’ll stay such great friends—oh yes, such excellent friends!

They bowed to the last notes of the waltz, and the curtain fell.

Zane and I leapt to our feet, applauding and clapping, and then it was easy to turn to each other and embrace as proud parents.

This is my family, I thought. I don’t care what happens. This will always be my family, my goddess-blessed girls and the man I love.