Free The Darkly Luminous Fight for Persephone Parker by Leanna Renee Hieber Page B

study!” Michael exclaimed at her side.
    She turned to him, grateful. “Thank you, Michael. I rather needed to hear that.”
    “Knowing hearts is my talent. Though, I wish my words were always perfect.” He glanced unconsciously at Rebecca, who was taking more notes outside the town house door.
    The carriage rounded the corner. “Now that you’ve seen the Grand Work, what do you think?” Alexi asked as he approached Percy, collecting her firmly against him.
    “You were incredible to behold, my love. Truly, Alexi, The Guard is a wonder.” She thought a moment. “Music to fight the spirits. How odd and incredible. It’s like it comes from the very air.”
    Alexi shrugged. “It wasn’t we who determined our weaponry; our talents were set long ago by men and women now forgotten. Inspired by Muses, tuned by the heavens—I suppose they thought every restless spirit needs a lullaby. A Greek chorus, the holiest of holies.” He smirked. “Would you rather we shout at them?”
    “No, no, there’s enough noise as is.” Percy chuckled.
    “Alexi, old chap,” Elijah called, gesturing grandly. “You and your fiancée—good God, how odd to say that—ride in the best carriage as guests of honour. Josie, you come, too. The rest of you divide up among yourselves en route to Athens.”
    Percy noted out of the corner of her eye that Rebecca’s mouth thinned, masking a grimace. Perhaps, she thought, the headmistress was used to riding at Alexi’s side; perhaps she had grown attached to little habits that Percy’s presence would upset. The headmistress turned and began to walk away. Michael trotted after her with a tiny, “Wait, dear Rebecca. Wait for me.”
    Percy wondered if the headmistress didn’t see, or refused to see.

C HAPTER F IVE
    “Alexi,” Josephine began as the carriage jolted off toward the centre of London, “I’ll take charge of your lady’s apparel.”
    “Ah, good. Spectres and phantasms mustn’t derail us, we’ve a wedding to prepare.” He glanced at Percy, who gave him a joyous smile. “Bring the bill for what you buy her, Josie, and I shall remit.”
    The Frenchwoman turned to Percy, beaming. “There’s a woman in Covent Garden—not the most reputable part of town, but her work’s swift and exquisite. She tailors for the royal all the time—”
    “Josephine,” Alexi interrupted. “Do not have my bride looking like an act in a halfpenny theatrical.”
    “And why not?” Elijah cried, giving a sharp-toothed grin. “You stalk about all day in sweeping black robes. Isn’t it fitting to have your bride trailing iridescent textiles like a votaress of Diana on her way to the…well, the sacrificial altar? Oh, Miss Terry’s Lady Macbeth at the Lyceum sports a gown of beetles’ wings. Can you imagine? That would be quite fitting, Your Royal Eeriness.”
    “You didn’t want to treat me to a ride in your carriage,” Alexi accused. “You wished to torture me.” Percy giggled.
    “The sweet lady has to know what she’s getting into. You must have worked mighty magic indeed to have her so moony-eyed.”
    “You mustn’t tease Alexi so about his manner, Lord Withersby,” Percy said. “I’m far more the misfit. As for moony-eyed—well,I am…naturally.” She blinked her opalescent eyes.
    “I suppose you have a point,” Elijah allowed. “Goodness. Your union—simply terrifying. Children living near your estate will tell such tales.”
    Alexi chuckled, pleased by the concept, but Percy let loose an audible gasp. “But I know nothing of estates! I’ve no dowry, nothing to bring to this marriage. I haven’t the faintest idea how to run a household. No one at the convent ever thought—”
    “Darling,” Alexi said. “We shan’t be a couple who entertains or makes a show of things like many of our station. Our destiny isn’t for such luxuries. I believe your peculiar talents far outstrip domestic economy.”
    “Oh. All right then.” But Percy was not convinced. The thought