Wizard squared

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A different New Ottosland, eighteen days after the Stuttley’s staff factory debacle…

Love at first sight.

M onk Markham, sprawled on a not-terribly-impressive carpet in a totally awkward and compromising position, looked up into a face that until now he’d only seen through the ambivalent lens of two different crystal balls.

The face belonged to Her Royal Highness Princess Melissande of New Ottosland.

“What the hell?” Her Highness demanded. “ You’re not Gerald!”

Just like that, no warning, no reprieve… the world was abruptly divided in two: the time Before this moment, and the time After it. And without anyone bothering to ask his permission, he suddenly wasn’t the same man and never would be again.

Princess Melissande’s face wasn’t beautiful, like his sister Bibbie’s. It was plain and round and pinkly embarrassed, with severe green eyes and a scattering of freckles and a framework of springy rust-reddish hair and a pair of prim spectacles sliding down its blunt nose. It was a face full of character-and determination-and courage.

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