The Fickle Favor of the Fae

Kelsey turned her head, suppressing a sneeze. The telltale tickle in her sinuses was the downside of regular rolls in the hay.

Beneath her, Wanda giggled, gazing up with those big blue eyes. “Oh, sweetie.” She plucked a stray piece of hay from Kelsey’s short copper hair. Never mind that there was so much straw in Wanda’s own long golden hair that she could easily pass for a scarecrow. “I wish we could move this to my bed.”

Kelsey wished that too. The few trysts they’d snuck in Wanda’s room—sweet stolen moments while her father was away—had been wonderful. But the risk was too great. If Mr. Decker caught them together, he’d fire Kelsey and throw her out on the streets without a second thought. And who would hire a cook who’d shagged their previous employer’s daughter?

At best, he’d cast Wanda out as well. At worst . . .

Kelsey would never see Wanda again. The thought chilled Kelsey to the bone.

Which is why they always ended up in the hayloft. It was the only place they could find any privacy. Even there, they’d spring apart at the slightest sound, never able to relax and simply be together.

Kelsey’s late mother had always urged her not to give up on love, but it was hard to remain optimistic.

If they could only get to London, Kelsey’s cousin, Maisie, owned a bakery and had promised them both work. Though they’d still need to be discreet, London had several clubs that catered to couples like Kelsey and Wanda—clubs where they could openly hold hands and even dance together without fear.

Kelsey wanted that more than anything.

But despite Kelsey’s diligent scrimping and saving, unforeseen expenses always cropped up. So she still didn’t have enough to cover the move. Not yet.

And since Wanda was expected to do her chores for free—the downside of her dad owning the dairy farm—she couldn’t chip in toward the cost.

They were stuck in Dumfries and Galloway, at least for now.

Still, Kelsey had Wanda in her arms, and there was no sense wasting this moment.

“We don’t need a bed.” Kelsey stroked her hand down her lover’s body, eliciting a shiver. “All I need is you.”

“I need you too.” Wanda surged up to meet Kelsey’s lips, kissing her breathless.

Later, lost in reliving her love’s touch, Kelsey caught herself singing along to “All You Need Is Love” on the radio while she stirred the stew. She silently scolded herself. Being cordial was expected, but appearing too happy would raise suspicion. The last time Mr. Decker overheard her singing and grinning like a fool, he’d made a rude remark about free love hippie nonsense and how he’d fire her if she got pregnant.

Not that anything about Kelsey screamed flower child, other than perhaps the well-worn daisy print apron that had once belonged to her mother. Wanda was the one with long hair and several prairie dresses tucked away in her closet. And yet, Mr. Decker also made snide comments about Kelsey’s “boyish” Twiggy style haircut and her preference for trousers.

You really couldn’t win with that man.

Kelsey could only imagine his reaction if he learned his daughter was the one who held her heart. He’d been mad as hell when he’d found out two farmhands were sleeping together, firing them on the spot, and neither of those men were his children.

That probably should’ve been Kelsey’s cue to move on.
When she showed up four years ago, seventeen, grieving, and broke, the offer to become a live-in cook seemed like the answer to her prayers. At the time, she’d thought the freshly widowed Mr. Decker had taken pity on her, only realizing in retrospect he’d exploited her desperation.

But then she and Wanda bonded over the loss of their mothers, before bonding in an entirely different way, filling the hole in Kelsey’s heart. And now Kelsey was good and truly stuck. So she needed to stay on Mr. Decker’s good side, assuming the man actually had one.

Carefully keeping her expression neutral while serving supper, Kelsey chanced the subtlest of glances at Wanda, who wore a hint of a smile on her rosy lips.

Lips that had kissed her everywhere earlier. But it was best not to think of that.

While Kelsey and Wanda hid their good moods, Mr. Decker flaunted his. “We break ground tomorrow.”

Ah, so they were finally building the new barn. Kelsey supposed that was good news. Perhaps the dairy farm’s expansion would lead to the pay raise she so desperately needed.

“About time we made use of that ridiculous mound,” he continued.

The serving spoon slipped from Kelsey’s fingers, clanking against the side of the pot.

Mr. Decker regularly scoffed at the protective rituals Kelsey grew up with. He’d insisted she stop leaving out cups of cream for the fae, considering it a waste, which forced her to switch to offerings of wildflowers. Still, she’d never thought he’d abandon all reason regarding fae lore.

Whether the mounds were really the rumored portals to Fairy or not, they clearly were important to the fair folk. Terrible things happened to those who disturbed them. Even non-believers usually erred on the side of caution where fairy mounds were concerned. “Is that wise? It’s unlucky to—”

He shot her a glare. “I don’t tell you how to cook. Don’t tell me how to run my farm.”

Actually, Mr. Decker gave her cooking pointers all the time, but Kelsey bit her tongue. He’d made up his mind. The project would go ahead, no matter what objections she raised. If anything, further questioning would make him more determined.

She could only hope the fallout wouldn’t be too dire. If the stories she’d grown up with had taught her anything, it was not to underestimate the fair folk.

#

At first, it seemed like the Deckers had gotten off scot-free. The barn building began smoothly. No accidents happened. Supplies didn’t go missing. The cattle’s milk production didn’t dry up.

Maybe the mound was just a random bulge in the landscape, free from any supernatural influence. Surely, not all mounds were magical.

Perhaps they’d gotten lucky.

But then, one week after construction started, Wanda failed to meet Kelsey in the hayloft for their regular rendezvous. Which wasn’t necessarily concerning. There’d been other times Wanda hadn’t been able to sneak away.

It was the distant look upon Wanda’s face when she spotted Kelsey next that chilled her to the bone. Something was wrong.

Kelsey pulled Wanda aside. After glancing around to make sure they were alone, Kelsey threw her arms around her lover. “I missed you. Is everything okay?”

Wanda stiffened against the embrace. “Everything is fine. Why wouldn’t it be?” But her voice sounded strange. Raspy.

Wanda emanated an unfamiliar frailty, as if each breath, each word, and each movement took more energy than it ought to. She must be feeling under the weather, probably coming down with a cold that she didn’t want to risk passing along to Kelsey.

The fall of footsteps forced them to spring apart. Mr. Decker had terrible timing. Talking further would have to wait.

Determined to nip any illness in the bud, Kelsey made a hearty chicken soup for dinner. But Wanda must have felt worse, for she didn’t touch her soup, nibbling instead on dinner rolls.

The next morning, Wanda’s appetite improved somewhat. She tucked away several blueberry muffins. Though Kelsey added Wanda’s usual amounts of cream and sugar to her tea, Wanda asked for more, adding so much that the beverage turned a light tan color.

She must have a stuffy nose, Kelsey decided. Why else would Wanda’s sense of taste be so far off?

“Want to check on the horses?” Kelsey asked, careful to sound as casual as possible lest Mr. Decker, busy enjoying his own breakfast, catch on to the code for clandestine hayloft meetings. Even if Wanda wasn’t in the mood for romance, Kelsey wanted a word with her away from prying eyes and ears.

Wanda frowned. “No. Why would I want to do that?” She must be teasing. Yet her tone and expression seemed so serious.

Then again, Mr. Decker was right there, listening. She might be afraid to agree. Maybe she’d turn up, anyway.

Kelsey waited at the hayloft, counting the horseshoes on the wall to pass the time. Wanda never showed. Indeed, Kelsey couldn’t find a way to get Wanda alone. It almost seemed like she was actively avoiding Kelsey.

It all made sense when Kelsey started her period. Of course! The two of them were on the same cycle, so no wonder Wanda was feeling poorly and acting moody.

Kelsey knew just what Wanda needed. Homemade pickles were her favorite comfort food, and they were bound to brighten her spirits.

But when Kelsey presented Wanda with a jar, she recoiled. “I don’t want those.”

Kelsey searched her lover’s eyes, finding no warmth, only icy blue irises ringed with violet.

That was different.

In all the hours Kelsey had spent gazing at Wanda, memorizing her every feature, she’d never noticed any trace of violet in her eyes before.

Gooseflesh prickled Kelsey’s arms. She felt like she was staring at a stranger. A stranger with Wanda’s face. “My mistake.”

Kelsey retreated to the hayloft alone. Her gaze strayed back to the horseshoes.

Her mother had told her tales of changelings, fae doppelgängers who replaced stolen humans.

Fae who despised iron and salt. Who angered easily when their sacred mounds were messed with.

While it was possible Wanda was growing distant and dissatisfied, as lovers sometimes did, Kelsey’s instincts screamed that this was an impostor.

But she couldn’t be sure. So she resorted to spying.

When Wanda stepped outside for fresh air the next morning, Kelsey followed. Curiously enough, Wanda took a thermos of cream along, claiming it was for stray cats. Never mind that Kelsey hadn’t seen cats around the farm in ages.

Keeping at a distance, Kelsey took great care not to snap any twigs or make the slightest sound. She barely dared to breathe.

Wanda headed toward a wooded area, her stride determined.

Before vanishing.

One moment, she was there. The next, she was gone without a trace.

Kelsey’s entire body went numb. No doubt remained. That was not her Wanda. But who would believe Kelsey? Certainly not Wanda’s father, who hadn’t noticed any changes in his daughter and thought fair folk were merely fables.

Kelsey would need to rescue the real Wanda alone.

There were ways to force the truth out of changelings and demand the return of those they’d replaced, but would that be wise? Dare Kelsey risk angering the fae even more?

Kelsey tried kindness first. When “Wanda” returned, Kelsey made scones with strawberries and clotted cream paired with tea and honey.

The false Wanda devoured them with gusto.

“Where is Wanda?” Kelsey asked. Fae couldn’t lie, after all.

The false Wanda glanced up from her meal, a trace of annoyance in her expression. “I’m right here.”

Kelsey sighed. Not an outright lie, but not the truth she wanted.

She should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy.

Next, Kelsey plied the impostor with mead, hoping it would loosen her tongue.

When she seemed thoroughly inebriated, Kelsey asked, “Are you really Wanda?”

The coarseness of the false Wanda’s giggle sent shivers down Kelsey’s spine. “All this suspicion of yours isn’t becoming, Kelsey. Perhaps I should ask Mr. Decker to replace you with a more compliant cook.”

Kelsey’s stomach dropped. If she were let go, she’d have no hope of saving Wanda.

Desperate times called for desperate measures. Tough love was required, the consequences be damned.

Leaving not-Wanda to her drunkenness, Kelsey headed for the kitchen. Hefting her favorite iron skillet, she steeled herself for the nasty task ahead. This was her best chance of bringing back Wanda, or at the very least sharing a proper goodbye.

Kelsey stormed back to Wanda’s room, shutting the door behind her and bracing it with a chair, something she’d never dared do before.

The fraud sat brushing her long blonde hair. “Yes?” The irritation in her voice was clear as day.

“Tell me everything you know, or you’ll give me no choice but to use this.” Kelsey held up the skillet.

All the color drained from the would-be Wanda’s face. “Everything I know about what? Sautéing?”

“You’re not Wanda.” Of that, Kelsey was certain.

“You’re confused.” The false Wanda’s tone was light, but there was no mistaking the terror in her violet ringed eyes as they fixed on the skillet.

Kelsey didn’t want to harm anyone, but there seemed no other alternative. “Fine. We’ll do this the hard way.” She lunged, putting the false Wanda in a headlock before pressing the skillet against her bare arm.

She flailed, howling with pain. The smell of burning flesh filled the air, as if the skillet were red hot instead of cool to the touch.

Definitely a changeling.

Kelsey removed the skillet, revealing a large blister on otherwise perfect skin.

“Ready to return the real Wanda?” Please let the answer be yes.

The changeling stared at Kelsey in defiance. “No.”

Kelsey pressed the iron to her again as the changeling writhed and wailed. “I can keep going. This ends when I get the truth.”

Kelsey lifted the iron, glaring down at the changeling.

“All right. I yield.” The changeling sobbed as she stared down the skillet. “I’ll tell you what you want to know. Happy?”

Hardly. Happiness was reserved for when the real Wanda was once more in Kelsey’s arms. She fought to keep her voice steady. This was no time to show weakness. “Where is my Wanda, the human one?”

“She’s in the fairy realm, alive and unharmed.”

At least Wanda still lived, even if she was out of reach. Why had she been taken, when Mr. Decker was at fault for disturbing the mounds? Perhaps all humans were interchangeable to the fae. “Can you return her to me?”

The changeling shook her head. “She’s the Winter Prince’s prisoner. Only a royal pardon can secure her release.”

Kelsey’s heart sank. Odds were, she’d never get Wanda back.

No, this fight wasn’t over yet. Wanda was depending on her. “Summon the prince, so I can plead my case.”

The changeling gave a bitter laugh. “Summon the prince here? You overestimate my importance. At best, I could hope to seek an audience with him on your behalf in the fairy realm.”

But Kelsey doubted the changeling would fight for Wanda’s return, especially after being burned. More likely, the changeling would rat Kelsey out and demand swift retribution. “I’ll seek him myself. Where do I find him?”

The changeling’s eyes widened. “Beware, for humans who enter the fairy realm rarely return.”

Exactly what Kelsey was afraid of. She brandished the skillet menacingly. “How do I enter the fairy realm, and where do I find the Winter Prince?”

“So be it. It’s your head.” The changeling sighed. “Deep within the trees, you’ll find a creek. Follow it upstream until you come upon a pair of hawthorn trees grown together, their trunks intertwined, beside a boulder split in twain. Step through the crack in the rock and you will find yourself in the heart of Fairy. Look for a castle carved of ice. It’s hard to miss. Inside is where the prince, your lover, and—I suspect—your demise await.” Violet ringed eyes darted to the skillet. “Leave your iron behind in the human realm unless you wish to be slain on sight. The prince does not take kindly to threats from mortals.”

Kelsey nodded, opening her mouth to thank the changeling before snapping it shut. Legends warned never to thank the fae, for it implied a debt to them. “Sound advice I will take to heart.” That seemed adequate praise.

After returning the skillet to the kitchen, Kelsey returned with a cup of cream for the changeling, as well as aloe to soothe her burns. It was the least she could do to express her gratitude for the information.

Kelsey wanted to take off at once, but she would only have one shot at persuading the prince. She must approach this delicately.

She baked honey cakes, the sweetest she’d ever made, then drizzled more honey on them for extra measure. Assembling them on her nicest wooden serving platter, she paired them with a generous side of clotted cream and snagged a bottle of mead to bring along as well.

Hoping to appear presentable, she dressed in her smartest trousers and her least threadbare shirt. It wasn’t attire worthy of visiting royalty, but it was all she had.

Kelsey followed the changeling’s directions until she found the cracked boulder next to the twisted hawthorn trees. If she went through the portal, she might never come back. But if she didn’t go through, Wanda was certain to remain lost forever.

Glancing around to take in the mortal world one last time, Kelsey squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and stepped through the crack in the stone.

Everything spun around her, as if she were in the eye of a cyclone. Thrown off kilter, she gripped her tray tightly, determined not to drop it. When her surroundings finally stilled, she was in a new realm, not unlike her own. Though everything was somehow more.

The leaves on the trees were brighter, bolder. The dirt, more brown. The creek, more blue.

And in the distance stood a castle carved from ice.

Kelsey took off toward it.

The structure was exquisite up close, appearing to be made of glass rather than ice, though the chill radiating off it proved otherwise. A guard stood in front of the entrance, bedecked in tree bark armor trimmed with deer fur.

Kelsey stood tall. “I seek an audience with the Winter Prince.”

The guard regarded her carefully, their grip tightening on their stick topped by an icy blade. Not that they needed weaponry, judging by their rows of needlelike teeth.

Kelsey bit back the “please” on the tip of her tongue and instead presented the guard with one of the honey cakes.

They eyed it, licking their lips before devouring it in a single swallow. “Very well. Right this way.”

As they led her down a long transparent hallway, Kelsey’s shivers had nothing to do with the cold.

This was not her world, and she was in over her head.

She needed to play things carefully.

Kelsey entered a decadent room with a large ice throne in its center. A striking fae sat cockeyed upon it, leaning to the side with one leg thrown over the arm, the pose casual yet powerful. If not for the energy crackling in the air around him, he could’ve passed for a mortal man.

Judging by his velvet, fur trimmed finery and the crown of icicles atop his black-as-night hair, he must be the Winter Prince.

She placed her offerings before him and bowed as deeply as she could manage. “Your highness.” She hadn’t been thrown out yet. So far, so good. “I wish to barter for the return of my friend.”

“I was told you would come. You are quite the curiosity. It’s rare to find a mortal with some manners.” The prince’s eyes swept over her. “I’m in a generous mood. Say your piece, human.”

“I’m so sorry that Ethan Decker built on your mound.” Kelsey fought to steady the tremble in her voice. “It was disrespectful, and he should pay for the slight. But Wanda Dickerson is innocent of wrongdoing. Will you release her back to the human world?”

The prince leaned forward. “This Decker man took something of ours, so I took something of his. The punishment was more than fair.”

Kelsey silently cursed fae logic. How could she make the prince see reason without angering him? “What if I destroyed the barn, giving you back your mound? Would you free Wanda then?”

The prince scowled. “As much as I’d enjoy that, the mound is useless to me now, damaged beyond repair. The taint of human tampering irrevocably ruined its magic. Some wrongs are so great, they cannot be reversed. Besides, I need eyes and ears on the meddlesome mortal. The changeling stays where she is, and so does your friend Wanda.”

So he’d already decided, and there was no hope. Unless . . . “What if I agreed to be your eyes and ears? If you return Wanda and take back your changeling, I solemnly swear to spy on Mr. Decker for you and report back everything I learn.”

A flicker of mischief danced in the prince’s smile. “An intriguing offer, but a flawed one. Humans lie and cannot be trusted.” His eyes darkened. “Especially humans who wield iron against the fae.”

Kelsey gulped. She should’ve known he’d find out about that. True, the fae had driven her to that measure by taking something of hers, but she sensed that excuse wouldn’t fly. “So let me make amends by devoting my life in service of the fae. Make me your spy at the farm.”

The prince dismissed her offer with a wave of his hand. “I already have a faithful servant spying for me.”

“Are you sure? Your changeling spilled fae secrets to a human.”

The prince paused. “So I’ll send another changeling.” But there was a note of doubt in his voice.

Kelsey could work with that. “Let me prove my loyalty to you and your court. Return Wanda, and find out for yourself what a faithful spy I can be.”

The prince tapped at his chin. “I’m not ready to return her . . . yet. But a human pet beholden to the Winter Court has a certain appeal.” Something sparked in his eyes. “I’ll give you a chance to prove your devotion. A simple task, merely a trifle.” His eyes flicked to the honey cakes. “Bring me a pie, made to my exact specifications, and I promise we’ll return Wanda to you safe and sound in exchange for your servitude as a spy.”

That sounded simple enough. Too simple. “What are your specifications?”

“Hmmm . . .” the prince tilted his head. “It must be made without flour, sugar, eggs, milk, butter, or fruit.”

Kelsey’s mind raced. What possible pie was that? Then again, perhaps something savory, like Shepherd’s pie—

“No potatoes or meat either,” he added, as if reading her mind.

Damn it! That left only mud pie—

“And no mud. Yes, I believe that should cover it. Since that’s settled, you’d better be on your way.” He grinned from ear to ear. “Truly, human, it’s been a pleasure.”

The request was impossible. She was going to lose her lover forever. The most she could hope for now was a fond farewell. “May I see Wanda before I leave?”

“No.” His response was firm, leaving no room for discussion. “I have been merciful, but do not try my patience. Return only after you have proven your worth, otherwise my guards will kill you on sight.”

Without another word, two guards frog-marched her out of the castle and back to the cracked boulder, practically tossing her through it.

Back in the mortal realm, Kelsey pondered her defeat. If the prince had refused her request, at least she’d know she’d done everything she could. But this cruel challenge would haunt her until her dying day. Having a chance to free Wanda, only to fail?

It was the prince’s punishment for burning the changeling with iron. It had to be.

Oh, he was crafty. Kelsey should’ve expected nothing less.

She trudged back, her shoulders slumped, but then a spark of defiance lit in her.

Let him set all the ridiculous rules he wished. There had to be some way around it.

She quickened her stride.

Back at the house, Kelsey pored over every cookbook she could find. She scoured each page for anything that could possibly be considered a pie but still fit the guidelines.

When that search turned up nothing, she made the long trip into town bright and early the next morning to ask the baker to brainstorm with her.

They both came up blank.

The baker shrugged, giving her an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, but it simply can’t be done.”

Back home, the cows gave Kelsey a wide berth as she stomped around, staring up at the structure responsible for all her misery. Damn Mr. Decker and damn the fae! Kelsey would burn that terrible barn to the ground to spite them both. She would—

Step in cow shit because she wasn’t watching where she was going. As if her spirits couldn’t sink any lower. Kelsey fought back tears, trying to scrape her shoe clean. What rotten luck! Cow pies were always such a dreadful mess to . . .

Her pulse quickened. The answer was right under her nose the whole time. And now, she supposed, under her toes as well.

Perhaps her luck had taken a turn for the better, rather than the worse.

After cleaning the filth from her shoes, Kelsey grabbed a pie plate from the pantry and a spatula. She’d have to choose wisely. Any cow pies on the grass might have picked up trace amounts of dirt, and mud was strictly off-limits.

She found a cow pie on the freshly laid floorboards of the barn and scooped it into the pie plate.

Her confidence wavered. Did she really have the gall to serve shit to a prince of the fae?

If he was displeased, he’d have her killed.

But Wanda was all alone in the fairy realm, trapped and afraid. No, Kelsey would not give up. Not while they both still lived.

And if death awaited Kelsey, so be it. She’d wait in the next life for Wanda if that’s what it took.

Besides, she wouldn’t be giving the prince anything he hadn’t asked for.

Once more she braved the portal to the fairy realm, only this time with the upper hand.

At least, she hoped so.

“Back so soon?” The guard hesitated. “You’re aware the punishment for failure is death.”

She nodded.

The guard showed her to the prince, who raised a brow. “Let’s see what you’ve brought me, human.”

This would either be the moment of her victory or her doom. Kelsey glanced at the royal guards, standing within striking distance, no doubt ready to execute her at the prince’s command.

“A cow pie, your highness.” She placed the pie plate before him. “Made to your exact specifications without flour, sugar, eggs, milk, butter, fruit, potatoes, meat, or mud.”

The prince stared at it, his expression impassive.

“Not my first choice of pie to serve fae royalty, nor the most appetizing option,” she continued, determined to defend her pie while she still had the chance. “But your rules didn’t require it to be edible.”

The Winter Prince’s eyes flicked back up to Kelsey. “No, I suppose they didn’t.” He let out a hearty belly laugh that reverberated throughout the ice castle. “You’re a brave one, I’ll grant you that. Resourceful too. You shall make a fine spy for the winter court.”

Kelsey’s heart leapt. “Does this mean—”

“As promised, Wanda shall return to the human world and the changeling will be retired, in exchange for your servitude.” His eyes bored through her. “See that you adhere to all we agreed upon, lest your life be forfeit.”

Kelsey bowed. “I will, your highness.” She’d never make it to London now, stuck on that cursed farm forever. But she’d have Wanda back. That would have to be enough.

“Now begone and take your pie with you.” The prince waved her away. “Such a delicacy is more befitting for humans.”

The guard escorted her and her pie out, shaking their head. “You’re certainly full of surprises. I haven’t seen him laugh in over a century.”

Kelsey returned home to find Wanda returned and the changeling long gone.

Her lover rushed to embrace her. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too.” But Kelsey wasn’t about to risk getting fired and losing her hard-won usefulness to the fae. “Want to check on the horses?”

Wanda smiled sweetly. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Kelsey kept her word to the Winter Prince, visiting the fairy realm frequently to report everything she learned. When Mr. Decker planned to build a gazebo upon another fairy mound, his supplies went missing. When he wanted to cut down the hawthorns near the portal to Fairy, he found himself hopelessly lost wandering endlessly in circles until he gave up. And when he wanted to plow land where a fairy circle sat, he suffered a stroke, making him too ill to complete the task.

At that point, Mr. Decker decided to sell the farm and retire.

Kelsey could only hope the next owner would keep her on as cook, and the Decker’s wouldn’t move too far away.
But when Kelsey reported this new development to the Winter Prince, his eyes twinkled.

“Not to worry, human. I have the matter well in hand.”

There was an offer on the farm the very next day by a strange gentleman with rings of violet around his irises.

After the deed was signed, Kelsey followed the gentleman out.

His image shimmered and shifted as he returned to the familiar form of the Winter Prince. He handed the document over to her. “The farm is now yours. See that it remains friendly to the fae.”

“I will,” she pledged.

Mr. Decker moved to Glasgow so his sister could care for him.

Wanda, however, stayed behind with Kelsey.

Slowly but surely, they made the dairy farm their own. First, they hired back the farmhands Mr. Decker had let go, along with several other similarly “disgraced” workers who wouldn’t take issue with Wanda and Kelsey’s relationship. Next, they knocked down the barn and fenced off the fairy mounds, making it clear they were never to be disturbed.

Kelsey also planted a small crop of cucumbers. They flourished to where she could hardly pickle them fast enough. Her side business selling homemade pickles quickly took off.

Indeed, all crops planted on the property did well, never being bothered by bugs. For her pies—the non-cow kind—she harvested berries that grew juicy and sweet year-round. She always made an extra pie or two for the Winter Prince, who remarked that her pie-making skills had improved since she completed his task.

Dancing with Wanda in the kitchen, Kelsey stole a kiss, tasting a hint of pickle brine on her lover’s lips. It may not have been London, but they had found their place. Their home.