I didn’t need her help finding my way back to the royal dining room. But before I reached that spot, the door opened, and Mr. and Mrs. Manhattan stalked out.
They didn’t see me. I was behind one of the ornate pillars that pretended to hold up the roof of the castle.
“This is a farce,” Mrs. Manhattan said loudly. “I won’t allow my son to get caught up with this gold-digger. We have to find a way to stop the wedding.”
Mr. Manhattan shrugged in his thousand dollar suit. “That’s why we’re here early, right? I don’t think we’re off to a good start.”
“He has to be made to see the truth behind all this,” she hissed. “Chase’s heart has always been too soft.”
They were too busy hurrying out of the castle to say anything more. I didn’t want to hear anything else they had to say. That was plenty.
Chase and Morgan came out of the dining room.
“I don’t know what you expected,” Morgan drawled. “You knew they weren’t happy about this wedding.”
“Why did they come?” Chase asked. “Why are you here?”
“My only brother is marrying the girl of his dreams.” Morgan slapped him on the back. “Probably in tights. Why wouldn’t I be here?”
It occurred to me at that moment that Morgan and Wanda would have been a perfect match. They were both hateful people.
“Go home and take them with you,” Chase said. “I invited you because I thought you’d be happy for me. I can see that’s not possible.”
“They aren’t going anywhere. They want to stop the wedding. Watch out for them. They usually get what they want.”
Morgan smiled, and left Chase standing there. I wasn’t sure if I should act as though I hadn’t heard what was said or tell him how crazy his family was.
I decided to show my support.
“Jessie. I was hoping you were still getting cleaned up. I guess dinner is over.”
I put my arms around him. “What happened?”
“They started talking about the wedding.” He shrugged. “That was it for my parents.”
“I heard what they said—and what Morgan said. They can’t stop us now. We’re not little kids they can tell what to do.”
“No,” he agreed. “But they can make us miserable.”
We went back into the dining room, and made our apologies to the king and queen. They were surprisingly unaffected by Chase’s parents.
“You know, the queen’s parents didn’t want us to marry either.” King Harold sipped his whiskey. “They thought I wasn’t good enough.”
Queen Olivia smiled. “They didn’t know you like I did, Harry.”
“Exactly my point,” the king said. “Chase, you and Jessie are going to make a great couple. Don’t let anyone stop you.”
We smiled and agreed. As we were leaving the castle, Chase grinned. “Do you think he’s taking such an interest because we’re the stars of his wedding plans?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
We walked out into the dark Village. Looking at it from the height of the castle, it was picturesque. Hundreds of tiny cottages and shops gleaming with yellow light that spilled onto the cobblestones.
“I love the Village,” I sighed, resting my head against his shoulder.
“Me too. Especially when it’s quiet like this. I’m glad we live here.”
As he kissed me, there was a heart pounding scream from somewhere in the night.
“I suppose you have to go down there and see what’s wrong,” I said.
“It’s my job.”
“I’m coming with you.”
He bowed. “After you, my lady.”
It was easy to figure out where the scream had come from. Shakespeare was crying and ranting outside the museum. He hadn’t quite made it to safety when Wanda had attacked him. He was covered with sheep dung and hay. It was smelly and messy, but he wasn’t hurt.
“When is this madness going to stop?” He called out in his best oratorical voice. He turned full circle and faced the crowd that had gathered around him. “I beseech you, good neighbors—let us find a way to rid ourselves of this ghostly nuisance. We must take up pitchforks and clubs to beat her out of our lives.”
Bart was there, still in his queen’s guard uniform. “I don’t think clubs and pitchforks will have much of an effect on a ghost.”
“Maybe swords then,” Shakespeare recanted.
“Not swords either.” Daisy, the sword maker, shook her head.
“You have to fight ghosts with fire,” Fred the Red Dragon told them. “We need torches.”
As everyone was agreeing with him, Chase stepped into the middle of the group. “No one is carrying around torches in the Village. Most of the shops and houses are made of wood. We’d go up in a big bonfire. I don’t think anyone wants that.”