Sugar Apple Fairytale - Volume 5 - Chapter 2.1

Chapter 2

THE PET FAIRY

With everything that happened the night before, Anne didn’t get much sleep. She couldn’t shake her fear and had jumped at every little sound.

On top of that, she had heard noises coming from the first floor all night long. That was where Orlando, King, Valentine, and Nadir were staying, but the sound of doors opening and closing had continued until dawn. She had been just about to nod off when the sun rose, so she was very tired.

Up the castle’s main staircase, right as one disembarked onto the second floor, was a small hall. A dining table had been set up there as a meeting place for the candy crafters, and once the sun had risen, they came one or two at a time and gathered around the table.

By the time Danna and Hal carried in food from the kitchen, everyone was present and accounted for. Only Glen, who was in poor health, was absent from the hall, since he would be taking his meals in his room.

There was a large fireplace set in the wall on the west side of the room, while the wall to the east was lined with damaged portraits. There was no wall on the south side; it opened directly into the grand entrance hall. If one leaned over the ivy-patterned brass banister, it was possible to see down into the first floor. Looking up in the opposite direction, one could spot three chandeliers constructed from many pieces of teardrop-shaped glass suspended from the ceiling. They were all covered in dust, but it was easy to imagine what splendid, sparkling light the chandeliers must once have given off.

Anne was unsteady on her feet as she staggered to the dining table and let out a big yawn. As if catching it from her, Orlando also yawned.

Keen-eyed Elliott spotted this and commented:

“Uh-oh, it seems neither Anne nor Orlando got enough sleep. That’s going to be a problem, since we start work today. What were the two of you doing all night? Anything good? Let me in on it next time.”

“We weren’t doing anything!” Anne insisted. “Something weird happened, and I couldn’t get to sleep.”

Orlando made a sour face. “There’s something wrong with the lock on the door to my room,” he said as if lodging a complaint with his landlord. “So many times, I thought I locked it up tight, but whenever I dozed off, the door would come open.”

At that, King, Nadir, and Valentine all looked up in surprise.

“The draft kept waking me up,” Orlando continued. “But no matter how many times I got up to close the door, it just kept opening again. It happened over and over throughout the night.”

At this point, King spoke up, a severe look on his face. “My room was the same,” he said.

And then—

“Mine was, too.”

“Me too.”

—Nadir and Valentine joined in, sounding shocked.

Elliott made a noise of interest and cocked his head. “I wonder if the foundation of the castle is crooked?” he said. “It seems the fittings on the first-floor doors are all deformed. Should I get Hal to take a look at it today?”

“No, the foundation’s level,” Valentine said bluntly. “There is no tilt. You can trust me on this one. Same for the locks. As far as I can see, the one on my door fastens securely.”

“Well then, I wonder why they all came open?”

In response to Elliott’s perfectly natural question, silence fell over the hall. They all busied themselves moving their forks, as if no one wanted to think about what the answer might be.

Challe, who was supporting his cup with the palm of his hand and slowly drinking his tea, raised his head.

“Your doors were locked from the inside, I assume? All four of you?”

He asked the question like he was confirming something, and the four candy crafters nodded simultaneously. Then Challe asked another question.

“Have any of the four of you seen a purple figure?”

“Oh,” said Nadir. “I think I saw something purple drift past the front of my door, but I’m not really sure. It was only there for a second.”

Challe replied, “I see,” and returned his gaze to his cup.

“What is it, Challe? Is there something here?” King questioned him.

Gazing at the gently wavering surface of his dwindling drink, Challe answered dispassionately, “There is. No doubt about it.”

The candy crafters looked startled by his words.

After spending a single night in the castle, Challe, who had declared so definitively the previous afternoon that there was no such thing as ghosts, had just admitted that something was there with them. Anne, for one, was surprised.

She guessed that Challe must have seen or heard something. In that case, the things she had experienced the night before might not have been hallucinations, either.

“So there is something here!” Mithril exclaimed. “I knew it! Let’s see… In a situation like this, it’s up to me to protect all of you. Time for the great Mithril Lid Pod to show off his wisdom and bravery. I must be strong…”

Mithril balled both hands into fists and looked down as he grumbled. Then full of resolve, he lifted his head. “I’ll exterminate the evil spirits,” he declared. “That’s a promise—I’ll protect all of you!”

Mithril stood up on the dining table and threw a fist into the air. Everyone’s anxious gazes converged on him. Nadir clapped, though no one else did.

Elliott looked pleased.

“I might just take you up on that. I don’t really care if we’ve got ghosts or badgers or anything else trying to live here, but if my exhausted candy crafters aren’t able to rest peacefully, it’s going to adversely affect our work.”

“Sure! Leave everything to me!”

Now that Mithril had been given a job by the workshop’s proxy maestro, the fairy’s cheeks flushed red with apparent delight. His wing stretched out taut, and he sprang up onto Challe’s shoulder.

“Did you hear that, Challe Fenn Challe?! Elliott has entrusted the extermination of the evil spirits to the great Mithril Lid Pod.”

“He sure has.”

“How can you be so calm, Challe Fenn Challe?! You’re going to be my right-hand man as we work hard to get the job done! My duties are your duties, too, understand?!”

Challe’s expression chilled at Mithril’s willful assertion. “Since when has that been true?”

“Since now!” Standing on Challe’s shoulder, Mithril beat his chest. “The great Mithril Lid Pod will surely exterminate all evil spirits! Everyone, relax.”

“We’re counting on you. Do your best, buddy,” Elliott said, though it was hard to tell how serious he was. “I’m going to join in the work this time. I want to wear myself out so I can get some good sleep.” He stretched casually.

Hearing this, Anne and the other candy crafters simultaneously turned their attention to Elliott.

“You’re going to participate?” Orlando asked, sounding surprised.

Elliott smiled. “What’s with the long face? It’s only right, isn’t it? If we don’t all work together over the next two months, we won’t finish in time. For two months only, I’m putting my duties as proxy maestro on hold. I’ve been operating under that assumption for a while now, and everything is already in place. So I’m going to take part, whether you like it or not. Aren’t you happy, Orlando?”

“Well, strictly speaking, it’ll be a big help,” Orlando replied. “But it’s going to be just as big an annoyance.”

“It’s definitely gonna get loud in here again,” King grumbled.

Nadir stuck his lip out in a pout. “Don’t talk too much while I’m working, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Elliott shrugged.

Valentine looked at him and smiled. “But honestly, talk of Elliott lending a hand is reassuring.”

Mr. Collins is quick to think and quick to act.

The candy crafters seemed to have various reservations about his decision, but Anne was frankly impressed by how swiftly Elliott had handled the matter. From this point forward, they would have to complete an incredible amount of work. Even one additional candy crafter would be of enormous help.

“Well, I will be taking part in the process, but ultimately, I’m still the proxy maestro, and I could get dragged away if there’s any kind of trouble. That’s why I’m leaving the leadership on this job to our head candy crafter. Anne, I’m sure you were thinking along the same lines. I’d like to hear what kind of procedures you have in mind for the project from today on.”

At Elliott’s casual request, the other four candy crafters’ expressions immediately tightened.

Finally, it’s time to get to work.

Anne could feel the anticipation, joy, and tension of the crafters before they set themselves to a job. She laid down her fork and sat up straight in her chair.

“I’ll have Orlando and King take charge of kneading the sugar dough. King will also be responsible for mixing the colors. The other three of us will form the shapes and put them all together.”

“How many pieces are we making?” asked Elliott.

“At least seven or eight sculptures of the same size as the one we presented at the Selection. Also, about ten that are half that size, and another ten or so about a third that size. I think that will be enough to decorate the sanctuary.”

“Well, that sounds about right. And for the work schedule—…”

Elliott was about to ask something else, when the huge double doors leading into the great hall creaked loudly. At the sound, everybody peered over the banister and down into the hall below.

The big doors were opening.

Most of the windows on the first floor of the hall were broken, so they had boarded them up. Because of that, the space was dim.

Now a single bright spear of light shone into the gloomy hall. Slowly but steadily, the light spread across the cracked stone floor.

“Well, well, what have we here?” came a cheerful voice. “This is quite the setup! What a curious place for the state church to send you.”

The voice surprised Elliott and Anne, and the two of them stood up out of their chairs. It was a voice they knew well.

Challe frowned, and Mithril blinked.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen of the Paige Workshop! Sorry for not announcing myself ahead of time, but I have arrived.”

Entering the hall was a young man with roughly combed, unruly brown hair and sharp features with a kind of wildness to them. He was wearing a simple jacket, but it was excellently tailored. Another young man with hair and skin that resembled Nadir’s followed him in quietly.

“The Silver Sugar Viscount,” Anne and Elliott mumbled at the same time.

The pair of newcomers were Hugh Mercury and his bodyguard, Salim.

When they heard the words Silver Sugar Viscount, King, Orlando, and Valentine exchanged glances.

Meanwhile, the moment he saw Salim, Nadir shouted in a delighted voice, “Hey, that guy’s Izaran!”

Salim turned his expressionless face up toward the lesser hall on the second floor. Nadir waved at him, but Salim only averted his gaze.

Nadir puffed out his cheeks. “What the heck? How unfriendly. I wonder if he’s shy.”

Anne and Elliott quickly ran down the stairs.

“Silver Sugar Viscount…” Elliott looked bewildered. “What’s going on?”

Hugh smirked. “You seem well, Collins.”

“Yes, thank you. But I don’t imagine you came here to check up on my health.”

“Just thought I’d ask. I actually came to check up on that brand-new Silver Sugar Master over there. Seems like you’ve got a lot going on, Anne. I’ve been hearing rumors. Oh, and it looks like you got him back, too, eh?”

Anne smiled and nodded. She was unabashedly pleased and proud that she had returned Challe’s freedom to him. “Yep. I sure did.”

Hugh spoke to her like an old friend, and Elliott looked down at Anne in surprise.

“Anne? Are you acquainted with the Viscount?”

“Our paths sort of crossed, and he’s helped me out in all kinds of ways. But, Hugh, why are you here? I can’t imagine you came just to check on my health, either.”

Elliott’s mouth hung open in shock. “You’re on a first-name basis? With the Viscount?”

“If you’d like, you can call me by my first name, too, Collins,” Hugh said.

Elliott snapped his mouth closed and grimaced. “I believe I’ll refrain. I have a feeling Salim would skewer me if I tried it.”

As Elliott joked, Salim remained silent and expressionless.

“Well, then,” Elliott continued. “To what do we owe the pleasure, Silver Sugar Viscount?”

“Work. Do you think I would come here for any other reason? I’ve stopped by at the request of the state church. Every year, the Silver Sugar Viscount monitors the workshop chosen during the Selection. From time to time, I’ll need to check up on the Paige Workshop’s progress. I heard that you had moved your operation here, so I came to review the state of the place.”

Anne stared at him in puzzlement. “Monitor us? But why?”

Elliott’s brow wrinkled as he quietly mumbled an answer. “It would be terrible if the sculptures weren’t finished in time for the First Holy Festival. A whole year of good fortune for the Kingdom of Highland would never manifest. So the Viscount has to see whether or not the workshop chosen in the Selection will be able to get all their pieces finished in time. That’s what you’re here to check on, isn’t it?”

Hugh nodded, confirming Elliott’s explanation.

“Not having any sugar candy sculptures ready for the First Holy Festival or, alternatively, having a bunch of unsightly sculptures lining the sanctuary cannot be allowed to happen,” said Hugh. “And so I monitor the chosen workshop, to see whether they will get it all finished properly.”

Hugh paused for a moment, then turned to Elliott with a sharp look in his eye. “As insurance, the state church has requested that the Mercury Workshop, which was the runner-up in the Selection, prepare to produce backup sugar candy sculptures. This is a measure taken every year. In the event that you cannot complete the expected sculptures, I will report my findings to the church. If that happens, the candy sculptures from the Mercury Workshop will be used for the First Holy Festival instead. The Paige Workshop’s sculptures will not be used, and the reward will not be given. Moreover, as a penalty, the workshop will be required to pay a fine equivalent to the promised ten-thousand-cress reward.”

“A ten-thousand-cress fine?!” Anne raised her voice in spite of herself at the mention of such an outrageous sum. She looked up at Elliott. “Did you know this, Mr. Collins?”

“I did. It’s an important duty, after all. I wasn’t aware we would be monitored by the Silver Sugar Viscount, however. As you know, the Paige Workshop has never participated in the Selection before.”

The First Holy Festival was a ritual to summon good fortune for the Kingdom of Highland in the coming year. If they didn’t have sugar candy to invite it, or if the candy was poorly made, good fortune would not bless the kingdom.

Splendid sugar candy sculptures were a necessary part of the festival. That was the very reason the Selection had been started in the first place. Even if the chosen workshop was, for some reason, unable to complete their task, the church could not simply announce that there would be no candy sculptures that year. So it made sense for them to ask the Silver Sugar Viscount to monitor the process. It was also no surprise that they had readied a backup plan.

There were preparations in place in case Anne and the other candy crafters failed. That knowledge put a lot of pressure on Anne, and anxiety reared its ugly head.

“Elliott Collins, proxy maestro of the Paige Workshop,” Hugh said quietly. “Do you understand the duties and responsibilities with which you and your people are tasked?”

For a moment, Elliott’s expression was uncharacteristically stiff. But it soon melted into his usual playful grin. “Understood, Viscount. We’ll make everything properly. No need for threats. Plus, we’ve got an impressive head crafter on our side. Right, Anne?”

“Right,” she answered, despite her nerves.

When she did, Hugh’s eyes twinkled, and he broke into a smile. “Show me everything you’ve got, Paige Workshop.”

“Hey now, go easy on us,” said Elliott. “By the way, did you want to see Glen? He’s in decent condition this morning, so you can if you’d like.”

“I’d rather not, but if I can, then I will. If I slink off without showing my face, I expect Glen will complain about my manners and dignity compared with those of, say, Keith Powell.”

“Then allow me to show you the way.” Elliott led Hugh up the stairs.

Anne watched them go, then returned to the dining table. The candy crafters’ eyes were following Elliott and Hugh with keen interest.

“Anne, you didn’t tell us you were acquainted with the Silver Sugar Viscount!” Nadir’s eyes were sparkling. “What a surprise! This is the first time I’ve ever seen him. Oh, and it’s the first time I’ve met another Izaran since I came to Highland. Who is that guy?”

“I crossed paths with the Silver Sugar Viscount, and he looked after me,” replied Anne. “As for ‘that guy,’ do you mean Salim? He’s Hugh’s…no, the Viscount’s bodyguard. What’s an…Izaran?”

“An Izaran is, mm— Well, it’s us.”

Valentine graciously embellished Nadir’s vague explanation: “The people from the former kingdom of Izaral in the east of the continent are called Izaran. Izaral was invaded by a neighboring country and was wiped off the map about twenty years ago. After that, the Izaran people scattered across the continent. Most of them formed into a few groups, and now they wander from place to place.”

“Izaral was destroyed before I was born, so I never knew it. Even when I hear such stories, I don’t really feel like it’s my country. On the contrary, before coming to Highland, I had never even considered the idea of living forever in one place.”

Nadir seemed awfully nonchalant about it, but Anne thought it must be terribly painful for someone to lose their country like that.

Anne, who had lived her whole life on the road, had no hometown. It was usually no big deal, but when she saw people wave and say with a smile that they were going back home, she always felt a little jealous.

Nadir must have lived a similar lifestyle.

“So we’re going to be under the surveillance of the Silver Sugar Viscount?” he asked.

Behind his round glasses, Valentine’s eyes showed a shade of concern. “Looks that way.”

“It’s only natural.” Orlando nodded.

“No slacking off for us!” King said, shrugging.

“I wonder if you all really understand the incredible amount of work we have ahead of us.” At the sound of Elliott’s voice, everyone looked up and saw him descending the staircase from the third floor. He appeared to be returning after showing Hugh to Glen’s quarters. “If we don’t finish our sugar candy sculptures in time for the First Holy Festival, sculptures from the Mercury Workshop will be used instead. I thought we might find some way through this by decreasing the number of sculptures or something, but the Silver Sugar Viscount will be watching. He’d never let us get away with cutting corners. Not only that, but if we fail, we’ll face a fine equal to the reward we’re supposed to receive: ten thousand cress. The Paige Workshop couldn’t come up with a sum like that, even if we turned the place upside down. If that happens, I’ll be ruined as well. The Paige Workshop will be no more.”

Elliott stood in front of the dining table and told them all this in an uncharacteristically matter-of-fact tone.

They needed to make a lot of sculptures in a short amount of time, without letting the quality slip.

It had taken them about one month to make the first sugar candy sculpture through trial and error. This time, they already knew what to do and would be repeating the same tasks, so they had experience. Given the crafters’ current skills, four days should be plenty of time to finish a similar sculpture.

Simple calculations told Anne that it would take thirty-two days to make eight copies of the sculpture that they had presented at the Selection. And making ten more sculptures at half that size would take about twelve days, if she assumed each one would take half as much work. Making the ten remaining one-third-sized sculptures would take about ten more days.

They had less than two months before the First Holy Festival. Just looking at the numbers, they were short several days of working time. But if they got more comfortable as they went along, they would also get faster. Anne had been banking on that when she decided on the total number of sculptures they would make.

It was going to be close.

If we don’t succeed here, not only will I fail to restore the workshop, but I’ll also destroy it in one fell swoop. No matter what, we have to complete the sculptures.

As she psyched herself up, Anne looked at the faces of the other crafters. But to her surprise, King and Nadir were, for some reason, smirking at Elliott, as if to provoke him. Valentine was smiling, and Orlando looked composed.

“Who do you think you’re talking to, Elliott?” King grinned broadly. “If there’s something we need to make, we’ll make it.”

“All we have to do is get it done, right?” Nadir said casually.

Valentine nodded. “It’ll be fine. We’ll finish everything.”

Orlando added curtly, “Of course we will. We’ll make sure they’re done on time.”

Elliott looked satisfied with their answers.

“You all seem pretty pleased with yourselves,” he grumbled. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be Glen’s proxy here.”

But despite his complaint, Elliott sounded happy. The men were artisans—of course they didn’t want to admit defeat. The same feelings inside Anne dwelled in them as well.

And it might have been a bluff, but they had spoken clearly and confidently. They’d said they could do it.

Anne was always coping with anxiety and impatience. She didn’t have the extra energy to boast. But with such a difficult job ahead of her, she needed to put on a bold front, even if only to herself. That appeared to be an important part of the process.

I should learn from them.

Anne flashed a smile at Elliott, too. Somehow, just the act of smiling seemed to make her jitters disappear. All of a sudden, she was at ease.

“We’ll get it done,” she said.

Mithril, who seemed to be impatiently waiting to speak, raised his hand energetically and jumped up onto the dining table.

“I, too, shall lend you my support! Don’t forget to thank me!”

Challe lightly poked the back of the little braggart’s head with his finger. “You’re the biggest show-off of them all.”

Hugh finished his visit with Glen, then checked over the workspace and left.

The moment he was gone, the candy crafters of the Paige Workshop started making their sugar candies for the First Holy Festival.

They brought down just two of the barrels of silver sugar, which they had stored on the second floor of the east wing. Anne, Mithril, and the other four candy crafters all gathered in the room where they would knead the sugar. Elliott joined them as well.

There were almost no sources of heat in the workspace. Because silver sugar despised warm temperatures, they kept the area as cool as possible. All they had were warm coals placed in small iron buckets, with which they could warm their hands when their fingers got too cold to work.

They opened a barrel of silver sugar, and Elliott ran his hand through it. The sugar poured smoothly through the gaps between his fingers. He narrowed his eyes in pleasure.

“Silver sugar. How wonderful.”

For a moment, Elliott looked delighted—spellbound, even. It was the first time Anne had seen him make such an expression.

No matter what anyone says, Elliott is a true Silver Sugar Master.

As the crafters went to their posts, Mithril, who had been diligently gathering all their tools, glanced out the window and shouted, “Hey, everyone, look there! A carriage is coming.”

Mithril was pointing to the edge of the courtyard. A one-horse carriage was parked at the top of the road leading down the hill. It was a type of vehicle for hire that was common in town.

“Oh, so there is,” said Anne as she peered out the window. “I wonder who it could be?”

Elliott and the other candy crafters lined up beside her to see outside.

As they were looking, the door to the carriage opened, and a single person—a tall youth—stepped gracefully out. A sleek wing fell down his back, reaching his knees. He was a fairy.

“Who’s that? He’s really…pretty…” Anne spoke without thinking.

The fairy was tall. Probably about the same height as Challe. He was wearing an ostentatious costume of lace and beads over white fabric. With his every movement, the beaded decorations caught the light and twinkled.

Ribbons of hair curled gently down past his shoulders, their strands a blend of colors, like someone had dissolved green and blue dyes into milk. His eyes were a similar color to his hair, not quite green or blue. His pale face had a striking luster to it that was almost eerie.

Everyone, Anne included, was entranced by the fairy’s appearance.

As they stood there captivated, someone they knew quite well got out of the carriage.

“Bridget?!” Elliott shouted hysterically.

It was indeed Bridget who had emerged from the vehicle. The fairy politely lent her his hand and helped her down.

Bridget gave the driver some money, then appeared to instruct him to take down the baggage tied to the vehicle’s roof. Once that was done, she snuggled up close to the fairy, and they started walking toward the castle.

“What the heck?! What’s going on here?! It doesn’t make any sense!” King shouted, his eyes darting about the scene.

Orlando screwed his face up like he had seen something disgusting and groaned. Valentine’s eyes bulged, and Nadir stared at the pair with a look of amazement.

Elliott put his head in his hands and said miserably, “Oh, give me a break…”

Hopping up on Anne’s shoulder, Mithril tugged at her hair. Her mouth was still hanging open.

“Hey, they’re coming this way. They’re coming inside!” he exclaimed.

Startled, Anne yanked Elliott’s sleeve. “Mr. Collins! Who is that guy?!”

“Ugh… I have no idea…,” he said weakly, then turned back to the other crafters. “For now, I, as the proxy maestro, and Anne, as the head crafter, will go inquire as to who it is Bridget has brought with her. The rest of you, continue with your work. Things will get out of hand if everyone goes. Oh, Mithril Lid Pod, you come with us. As a fellow fairy, you might be of some use.”

Anne, Mithril, and Elliott quickly left the workspace and dashed to the entry hall. But the moment they arrived—

“What’s with all the excitement? See another ghost?”

—a voice came from the second floor. They looked up and saw Challe in the upstairs hall, leaning over the banister.

“Perfect timing. Challe, would you mind coming down here?” Elliott motioned for Challe to join them. The fairy looked puzzled, but he made his way down the stairs.

“What’s this about?” he asked.

Elliott shrugged. “Trouble.”

Just then, the knob on one of the front doors moved. Elliott grimaced. “Well, here they are. The trouble has arrived.”

A cool breeze blew in through the entrance and swirled softly around their feet. Everyone’s gaze naturally converged on the big door. Stepping in slowly, as if unsure of herself, was Bridget. When she saw Anne, Elliott, and Challe waiting for her there, she froze in surprise.

“Wh-what’s this? Why is everyone gathered here?”

The fairy quickly followed her in. Challe scowled.

Challe was bewitching and radiant, with a hard, sharp quality to him. His beauty made people want to touch him, but it also made them hesitate. He gave off the impression that he would not easily allow others to lay a hand on him.

In contrast, the new fairy, with his hazy, ambiguous color and demeanor, seemed like he was standing on the other side of a heat shimmer, like some kind of apparition. Anne found herself wanting to approach and touch him to see what that apparition felt like. And unlike Challe, this fairy seemed like he might just let her do it.

The fairy, who had come to a stop next to Bridget, looked a little surprised that there were people waiting there for them. But he immediately offered them a charming smile.

“Nice to meet you, people of the Paige Workshop. My name is Gladys.”

His voice was mellow and gentle. He gave a single, elegant bow, then with practiced movements, he softly put his arm around Bridget’s shoulders.

“You told me to come, so I came, Elliott,” said Bridget, her face stiff. “Are you happy now? Let me introduce you. This is my pet fairy. I bought him.”

“I appreciate your making the journey,” said Elliott. “But why did you suddenly get another fairy? And what do you mean, you ‘bought him’? With what money? You can’t buy a beautiful pet fairy like this with pocket change.” His usual joking manner had vanished.

“I wanted to buy him, so I did. What’s wrong with that? And as for the money, I used what I saved up from tutoring a child in the neighborhood. You’ve got no right to criticize me for it, Elliott.”

“He looks a little more expensive than that, if you ask me.”

“I’m not lying. I told the fairy dealer that I only had so much money and asked for a discount, and I was able to purchase him.”

Bridget looked straight at Elliott, unwilling to back down.

Challe was leaning against the wall, watching the couple with cold eyes. Mithril was staring at Gladys and cocking his head back and forth for some reason. Anne was so surprised, she was speechless.

“What do you think Glen will say?” Elliott asked quietly, and Bridget glared at him.