Page 104 of The Knucker King

Bramble butted his clenched fist, and Trewoofe scratched behind his ear, grateful for something to ground him. He was bewildered at Avice claiming him so freely, at her speaking so plainly to the Cap Queen about her acceptance of his offer to court her.

It did nothing to squash the desire he had to steal her way into the woods and rut her into the wildflowers. He placed a hand on his chest and let out a shuddering breath. His attention was drawn by Avice’s firm voice to the nosey Queen.

“I would like to give you an offering, my Lady,” she said, sweeping her hand over the row of baskets. “Grown from my King’s magic and made by our hands. Take one and consider our bargain done.”

The Queen smirked but said nothing else as she perused the offerings. She walked up and down the row of baskets, cupping her fleshy grey chin. Trewoofe had to respect it in a way, she paid no heed to the swarms of Good Neighbours behind her and took her time selecting the boldest of the floral crowns.

She held it up to the light. Trewoofe admired how his blooms illuminated under the Moonbeams, sparkling with the dusting of magic that saturated the air. The Cap Queen nodded and placed it on top of her mushroom hat.

Avice rubbed her tired eyes. “Well chosen, my Lady.”

Trewoofe studied his little witch as the Queen moved away to make room for the rest of her flock to make their selections. Avice’s shoulders drooped, and her jaw clicked loudly as she yawned.

He reached and squeezed her shoulder. “Avice, are you well?”

She smiled weakly up at him. “I am tired. It takes a lot out of me.”

His expression fell. “I thought it would not hurt you, after I joined in.”

She pressed her cheek to his hand. “It did not, but it is still exhausting. Now all the…” – she smiled shyly – “excitement has passed, I feel drained.”

Trewoofe went to move next to her, but Bramble stood firm. “Little familiar,” he chided. “I am not going to pounce on your witch when she is like this.”

Do you promise? he huffed.

The King chuckled. “Yes, I mean only for her to lean on me.”

“‘Her’ is right here,” Avice interjected. “Bramble, I am dead on my feet, please let the Lord through.”

The Grim retreated, slipping around Trewoofe’s legs. To his delight, Avice leant heavily into his side, and he wrapped his arm around her waist. They waited together while the Caps completed their selections, squawking and fighting over some of the more flamboyant pieces.

Ashling flitted by. “Why not go to the pallet and sleep?”

Avice yawned again. “You know why, I have to address each Queen and ensure the bargains are done.”

The Wisp flickered and floated up to perch on Trewoofe’s horn.

Once the Cap flock had finished their collection of the offerings, they marched down the garden path in a promenade, practically skipping behind their Queen as they stepped out of the ward and into the balmy night.

The Knockers came next.

The wizened Queen shuffled forward. Her arm was hooked through a younger male’s, who Trewoofe assumed to be the Prince Consort. They were small, reaching only to Avice’s knee.

“My Lady.” Avice nodded. “Thank you for coming tonight. Please take one.” She swept her hand over the row of baskets, now looking worse for wear after the Caps had claimed their share. “And” – she yawned – “consider our bargain done.”

“Well done, young witch,” the Queen said before dipping her head at Trewoofe. “Congratulations, Well King. I wish you a fruitful courtship.”

He dropped his gaze. Had all the Good Neighbours heard him telling Avice all the things he wanted to with her? He bristled at the thought. The words were for them, said in playfulness, to make them more comfortable at the passion that was blooming between them. It was his own fault; he knew that he had gotten carried away and should have waited until a more private time to say those things to her. Plus, given what salacious gossips Faeries were, soon the entire woods would know about it.

As though Avice could sense his discomfort, she interjected again on his behalf, despite barely being able to keep her eyes open. “Yes, my Lady. It will be very fruitful; I am sure of that.”

Trewoofe’s heart skipped a beat, and he struggled to find the words to reply to that statement.

“Good. It is about time more Knuckers roamed Albion. After all, they bless the land and waters with their presence,” she replied primly, before beginning her perusal of the offerings.

“Did you mean that?” he blurted.

Avice looked up at him blearily. “Mean what?”