Women are the...........

By the time the last guest finally left the summer residence, the gang had gathered together to celebrate. Formal gowns, tailored coats, jewellery, and uncomfortable shoes had all been abandoned for loose, airy nightclothes.

Sammy had successfully smuggled a chicken pot pie—and a suspicious quantity of desserts—out of the kitchen. Near the bed, Rowland and Sammy sat on an elaborate embroidered carpet with the food spread between them. Rowland was already helping himself to a generous serving of chicken pot pie, while Sammy ate from another plate beside him.

Sybill had curled up beneath a quilt on the bed, holding Silvi closely against her chest. On the other side of the bed, Elena sat awkwardly on the floor, massaging both feet while keeping one eye fixed on a custard tart.

“Man, those high heels have officially killed my feet.”

“And the dancing. So much dancing,” Elena added.

Sybill craned her neck from beneath the quilt to look at Elena’s aching feet.

“The torture of the feet.”

She lifted one hand and launched a healing spell towards her. Elena sighed as warmth soothed her aching heels.

“Thanks, Sibi.”

With her feet finally relieved, Elena immediately reached for the custard tart she had been eyeing. Silvi turned her button eyes towards Rowland.

“Rowland dear, would you answer a little question I don’t understand?”

“For sure. Ask away.”

“Why are wands and weapons banned at high-society balls?”

“Oh, that.”

Rowland smiled.

“It’s because of all the arrogant fools who kept challenging each other to duels.”

Sammy nodded knowingly.

“Nobility and royalty are arrogant, egotistical people. Apparently, people kept dying over minor insults, petty arguments—”

“And women,” Rowland added through a mouthful of chicken pot pie.

Sammy pointed his fork at him.

“Yeah. Mostly women. Like ninety-five percent of the time. And even tonight, a wand was used by a woman over a rivalry that originated over a woman.”

Sammy paused, apparently considering this very seriously. Elena’s hand stopped halfway to her mouth.

Neither boy noticed.

His eyes drifted towards Elena. Then towards Sybill. Then towards Silvi.

Some instinct deep within him suggested that perhaps the next sentence should remain unspoken. Unfortunately, that instinct arrived too late.

“Hence confirmed. Women are the root of all evil.”

Three figures moved towards him at once. Sybill grabbed a fistful of his hair, Elena seized him by both shoulders, and Silvi launched herself angrily onto his thighs.

“OW! OW! WAIT!”

Rowland nearly choked on his pie from laughing.

“You really shouldn’t have said that, Your Majesty.”

Somewhere beyond the room, a figure concealed in the shadows had been listening very carefully. The laughter inside continued, but the figure had stopped paying attention to everything else.

“Your Majesty…”

The words came out in a slow whisper. The figure remained perfectly still.

“Your Majesty.”