9. Boshun

Now I'd done it. I'd revealed my innermost desire. She'd tell me to return to the lamp, that she'd call if and when she figured out how to use her wishes.

Footsteps echoed in the hall outside her room.

She frowned. "I think that would be—"

Someone knocked on the door. "Miss? Miss!"

Jasmine gasped, her gaze shooting from the door to me. "Hide."

"Hide?" I peered down at my body. I was much too big to hide.

"Under the bed. In the bathroom. Somewhere!" She took my arm and dragged me over to the bed. "Get under. Now. Viscar shouldn't see you here."

"Viscar?"

"The butler. He was assigned to help me, and I can't imagine what he'd think if he found you here."

"We know what he'd think."

She scowled. "Hide. I'm a commoner, not royalty. Only three of us received special invitations. If he finds you here, he might kick me out, and then I won't get to meet the healer." Panic lifted her voice. "Please!"

"Miss Bains?" the male called out. "Are you all right?"

"Hide!"

I huffed, not interested in sliding beneath the bed. I was a genie, not a dust mop.

"You can either slide under the bed or return to your bottle," she said.

"If I go back inside my bottle, I'm not allowed to return to you until you're ready to use your first wish."

She bit down on her lower lip. "I was going to tell you that I also wanted to spend time with you."

My heart tripped over itself. She wanted to be with me? I shouldn't feel like leaping around the room like a gazelle, but I did. "I have a plan." A pop, and I turned into a big fluffy black cat.

She gaped at me. "Boshun?"

"Meow."

Her laughter bubbled out, though it cut off when the male banged on the door once more.

"Please, Miss. Are you in distress?" he asked.

I jumped up onto the bed and stretched out, savoring Jasmine's scent still lingering on the blankets.

With a shake of her head, she rushed to the door, pausing to smooth her gown and plaster a neutral expression on her face before opening it. She cracked it open enough to peer through. "Yes?"

Viscar nudged his way inside, and when the panel inadvertently hit her side, I rose to my paws, fluffed the hair along my spine, and hissed.

"What is that?" the impertinent male who needed to die for causing her even the slightest bit of pain pointed at me.

I leaped off the bed and stalked toward him, my fur lifted, my tail spiking high. My claws scratched the wooden floorboards.

He had the good sense to back into the open doorway. "There are no cats inside the castle."

"Obviously, you're mistaken," Jasmine said with a wince. "This lovely kitty came to my room last night and scratched on the door. I let him in, and he slept on the chair, purring all night long." She walked over to stand beside me. "Isn't he the sweetest thing?"

I rubbed her legs and snarled at him.

"Well," Viscar said, his face pinkening, "I do apologize, but you should make it leave."

"You're welcome to remove him from the room if that's what you want but take care with his very long claws."

I hissed as he approached me, and when he was within swiping distance, I latched onto his pants with my front claws and snarled.

With a yelp, he backed away, his hands lifting.

I let him go, but not before he got a taste of my irritation on his shin.

He hobbled out into the hall where he lifted his pants legs and winced. "It . . . It hurt me."

"I'm terribly sorry," Jasmine said in a rush, and I could tell she really was sad it happened, which made me grumble. She shot me a glare. "I'm sure he didn't mean to cause harm."

Viscar frowned. "Where did you go last evening? I looked for you, intending to escort you to your room, but you were no longer in the ballroom. You also didn't squeeze your golden ball."

"I ate something at the buffet that disagreed with my tummy and whenI looked for you, I couldn't find you. I, um, forgot about the ball. I made my way to my room on my own."

"I'm terribly sorry." Viscar bowed a few times. "I wish you'd reached out. I would've sent a healer to your room immediately."

"I feel fine now, thank you."

He nodded. "There's a nice meal waiting for you in the dining room. I came to see if you needed help getting ready." His gaze slid down her frame. "I, err . . . Are you wearing the same gown as last night? Surely you have a day gown you can wear instead. You're . . . wrinkled, though I'll gladly press your gown for you if you would be so kind to remove it."

"If you'll leave, I'll be ready in less than ten minutes," she said. "I have other gowns I can change into."

"Ah, yes, Miss. That will be fine. I'll wait for you in the hall." After shooting a frown my way, he pulled the door closed.

"You didn't have to be mean to him," she scolded me softly.

Another pop, and I became myself once more. "He wasn't gentle enough with you."

She frowned, then shook her head. "I need to get ready right away." Her voice came out thready.

"Would you allow me to help?"

"I'm not sure what you can do. I can't imagine using a wish just to change my gown. If I use any of them, I'll use them to benefit others, not myself."

This female was sweetly endearing. I rarely had a wishmaster who thought of anyone but themselves.

"Look, I've only got a few minutes to get ready. You need to go somewhere because I'm not changing in front of you." She rushed to the closet, tugging it open to reveal a few dresses dangling inside. "Day dress. Day dress. Why didn't I think of something like that? No, leave it to me to make a few ballgowns and believe that would be enough." Her hands formed into fists. "Well, I'm not here to look beautiful or fit in, so it won't matter."

A flick of my finger, and she wore a gorgeous satin day dress in a deep green that complemented her amber eyes and chestnut hair.

She gasped and flared the skirt with her hands, revealing matching slippers.

Another nudge in her direction resulted in her hair arranged on her head with a few curls dangling to artfully brush her shoulders. Matching jewelry—real emeralds—adorned her neck and ears, and I'd also applied light makeup.

She walked over to the big mirror on unsteady feet and gasped again. "What . . .?"

"This won't take a wish," I said. "Because you didn't ask for it."

"But why did you do it?" She turned to face me with tears sparkling in her eyes. I loved how her emotions shone on her face.

"Because you deserve the best."

"Thank you." She pinched her eyes shut and when she opened them, she gave me the prettiest smile.

"We have a few moments left, correct?"

She nodded.

"I don't want you to feel uncomfortable about having someone in your room, so I'll leave. Will you look for me?"

"Where?"

"Here inside the castle."

"All right." A frown filled her sweet features. Someone so tender and good shouldn't make my body heat up, but it did. I struggled to keep my cock from tenting the front of my silly pants.

"I'll find you." A pop, and I appeared inside the home I'd seen in her mind. I didn't like spying on anyone's thoughts, but I'd only peeked enough to find the location.

If only I had more time but I wouldn't keep her waiting.

Peering around her home made pain stab through my chest. My little Jasmine lived in exceedingly tidy poverty. A step toward the sofa showed her sister lying on torn cushions that had been neatly repaired. One flick of my finger, and a sumptuous sofa took its place. Soft, downy blankets covered the frail woman, blankets that naturally generated warmth.

Lana sighed, and a smile flitted across her gaunt face.

She looked so much like Jasmine it made my heart pinch tight.

I bit back a snarl, though it wasn't directed at her but her situation, and rebuilt the outer walls and roof. While I was at it, I mentally sought the male who owned this building and made him decide to gift it to the sisters so they'd never have to worry about where they'd live.

I replaced their stove with a heater that would magically never run out of fuel. I polished the scratched wooden floorboards and added soft rugs. A nice table near the sofa. A comfortable rocker that Jasmine could sit in while she rested in the evening—also with a self-heating throw tossed across the back.

In the kitchen, I stocked their now larger and improved cold box, plus their cupboards. I added new dishware and a kettle, plus tea from faraway places. Fresh vegetables and fruits that would replace themselves appeared on the now-polished counter. Another flick of my finger added grains, dried beans, and bread in jars on the surface. Butter in a quant dish.

I stalked to the only other room in the building and enlarged it. I replaced the clean, though worn bed with another, then matched it so there would be two, adding soft sheets and fluffy blankets. I filled their closets with clothing that would adjust to their sizes and shoes that would never pinch.

Returning to the living room, I stared down at Jasmine's sister. "The hell with it," I whispered softly enough she wouldn't hear.

I flicked my finger her way but . . .

Nothing happened.

It was a simple healing spell. She should look better already. Instead, she appeared the same.

When I called the magic again, it came to me, though I sensed reluctance.

Healing someone broke the rules.

I'd read once that using a genie's magic outside of wishes could harm the genie, though the passage I'd found in a moldy book had been too damaged for me to read more.

Worried I might've caused true harm when I only wanted to do good, I returned to the castle, appearing down the hall from where Viscar waited.

I called up a spell and was grateful when the magic worked as if nothing had changed. Perhaps I was mistaken about what I'd read.

Setting aside my concern, I used magic to dress myself for the upcoming occasion.

With a lift of my head, I strode toward Jasmine's room.