Page 98 of The Knucker King

Trewoofe exhaled. “Good.” He studied her face again, admiring the way she looked. “Could I have some ashes around my eyes too?”

Avice grinned. “Of course! Can I do it?”

He dropped his hand. “Please.”

She grabbed the bowl, turned back to him, and studied his looming frame.

She pointed to the pallet. “I think you will need to sit, Lord. I cannot reach.”

“Of course!” he replied, ducking his head and shuffling over.

Trewoofe made himself comfortable, sitting cross-legged on the furs. He closed his eyes, gladly submitting to her ministrations. He purred as her fingers dabbed at him, luxuriating under her delicate touch.

“I am done,” Avice announced.

Trewoofe opened his eyes. “How do I look?”

She bit her lip, stifling a chuckle. “Like Bramble.”

His gaze flicked to the Grim and he snorted. “It is the red eyes and black, is it not?”

She smiled in response. “He is adorable though, so take it as a compliment.”

The familiar wagged his tail. Thank you.

“And me?” Ashling piped up from the hearth.

Avice giggled. “Yes! You are all adorable, handsome, and perfect in every way.”

Trewoofe grinned, he knew she spoke her true feelings beneath her gentle teasing. “Little witch.” He touched her braid. “Would you do my hair too?”

She took a step back and studied him, hand on her chin. “I would not be able to style it exactly like mine. Your horns would get in the way. I could do one singular braid down your head. It would pull the hair from your face.”

He nodded enthusiastically. “With flowers?”

“With flowers,” she agreed. “Turn around.”

Trewoofe gladly did as he was told. She ran her fingers through his long silver hair, and he luxuriated under her touch. Not for the first time since he had come under Avice’s care, he thought he may well have died the day she saved him at the bottom of Knucker hill. The way he felt, at that moment, he truly believed he was in the Paradise that existed beyond the Shimmering Veil.

38

Chapter 38

Avice

Avice stepped back to admire her handiwork.

A single braid wove down the middle and back of his head like a silver waterfall. She interlaced small red and white flowers, adding a distinctly floral layer to his normal scent of petrichor and fallen leaves.

“How does it look?” Trewoofe asked.

“I believe it is my finest work,” Avice replied. “Stand up and let me see you from the front.”

She shifted to give him some room as he rose and stepped off the pallet. He beamed down at her, his fanged grin making her spine tingle.

He spread his arms. “Well?”

Avice licked her lips. What could she say? He looked like some ancient forest god that had appeared from the deep wilderness. With his hair pulled back from his face, he was sharper, more angular, and she could clearly see the point to his ears. His horns gleamed, curling into the mess of herbs she stored above. The ash around his eyes brought out their startling red, and his silver veins were obvious as they pulsed at his throat.