Robin shivered as Preyuna’s voice sounded in his head.
It ain’t you I wanna hear. So, get the freakin’ heck out!
You’re such a horrible, vulgar person. Why does Isellta love you? Why does he want you? Why doesn’t he want me? Why does he want ugly, scarred, ruined you more than he could ever want me? It doesn’t make any sense.
Robin’s irritation lifted.
He wants me.
Preyuna’s projected rant continued, but Robin was too lost in his thoughts to really pay attention. She eventually gave up in disgust.
Isellta don’t want her. He wants me. He loves me not her. He loves me! Isellta loves…me! Just me.
Robin laughed. “Oh, if only Am’rose were here. He’d be happy for me. He’d hug me.” He pulled out his phone and called him.
Ambrose answered. “Robin? Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m good. Am’rose, ‘sellta loves me. He just loves me. He don’t love that nasty fey chick. He loves me. He loves me.” He laughed again out of sheer joy.
“What? Are you in Henspence already?”
“No. That nasty fey chick just projected her thoughts at me. She went on this whole long angry speech about how ‘sellta don’t want her. He just wants me.”
Ambrose chuckled. “Told you so.”
“I can’t wait to see him. I can’t wait to hear him tell me all that straight to my face. My ‘sellta.”
But if he’s dyin’.
What if he’s dyin’?
“He’s probably going nuts wanting to see you too.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. Ah! They just brought the cake in.”
“What’s it look like?”
Ambrose hesitated. “I don’t really know how to describe it. It’s all white. It’s three tiers with one small—but not that small—cake on top. All of the other tiers look like a bunch of potted plants sitting on top of these thick dark chocolate round shelf things.”
“Wait. What? A bunch of what?”
“You heard me. Potted plants. Small potted plants on dark chocolate shelf…things.”
Robin shook his head. “I’m thinkin’ you’re gonna have to send me a picture. ’cause I’m sure visualizin’ this all weird.”
“Send you a picture…Send it…”
“Tch! Just give your phone to Barb’ra’s dad, tell him to take a picture—-”
“I know how to take a picture, Robin.”
“Yeah, I bet you do. Anyway, tell him to take a picture of the cake and send it to me. He’ll know whatta do.”
“Okay. I’m sorry, Robin. I have to let you go.” He chuckled warmly. “Barbara’s gesturing at me to get off the phone.”
“Ain’t a problem. I get it.”
“I’ll talk to you later.”
“Yeah. Talk to you then.” Robin ended the call and sat there, quietly glowing.
Ambrose and Barbara are all married.
Raven and Missy are happily reunited.
I’m on my way to Isellta and I’ll see him. Whether he’s alive or a goner, I will see him.
Everythin’s goin’ so well.
So, why do I got that itchin’ feelin’ that something’s about to go wrong? Short of ‘sellta dyin’, what could possibly go wrong?