Page 37 of Bride of the Fae Duke

Nellie stumbled to a standstill on the flagstone. ‘What?’

‘No.’ Doretha did not glance at her, piercing blue eyes trained instead on the boxwood hedge surrounding the garden. ‘I’m afraid I would not be able to solve the trouble at Locke Manor. I’m sorry, Eleanor.’

‘But …’ She felt like a pouting child begging for sweets. ‘But you said—’

‘I know what I said, darling,’ Doretha cut in, absently swirling her drink around in her glass. She seemed to be weighing her words. ‘And it may be best to leave the matter at this, before either of us regrets the conversation. You—’

‘Is the magic too complex?’ Nellie blurted, barely hearing that warning. ‘Does that meanotherfae could possibly break it, even if you’re not able to do it? I’m happy to ask around, if you say there are more of them in the city, and—'

‘Asking around wouldn’t help you.’ The duchess hesitated a last moment, then snapped her gaze back to Nellie’s face,apparently having reached a decision. Her voice lowered. ‘Complexity is not the issue. I’m a fine enough mage, if I may say so myself. The trouble is rather …’

A last pause.

‘The trouble,’ she repeated, then, briefly closing her eyes, ‘is rather that there is no curse.’

It took a moment for those words to land.

Two moments, perhaps, and they still didn’t make a lick of sense.

‘What?’ Nellie managed to force out, and the word was accompanied by an involuntary chuckle so joyless she almost winced. ‘No. No, that is nonsense. Of course there is a curse – everyone knows …’

‘Everyhumanthinks they know,’ the duchess corrected, all but rolling her eyes. ‘The problem is that humans don’t understand the first thing about magic or its workings. There is no curse on Othrys Locke. Every fae in Elidian knows there is no curse.’

‘But six women died!’ Too loud. Too shrill. ‘That can’t be a coincidence, can it?Sixof them?’

Doretha took another sip. ‘No, I agree that seems unlikely to be a coincidence.’

‘So then …’ She was grasping for straws now, Nellie realised, was clinging to thoughts shehadto believe, because the alternative was too terrible, too devastating, to even consider for the span of a heartbeat. ‘So then therehasto be a curse. It’s the only possible explanation. Perhaps there’s a magic trick you don’t know, or … or …’

The other woman remained quiet.

Sweat was starting to prickle between Nellie’s shoulder blades, beneath the hasty loops of her hair. Throwing a wild glance around, she added, ‘And if there isn’t a curse, then why didn’t you tell anyone else until now? Why didn’t you warn Othrys or the city guards or—’

‘Eleanor,’ the duchess interrupted, closing her eyes. ‘I’m fae.’

‘So then they would have to believe you! You can’t lie! That’s no reason to—'

‘Eleanor.’ The undertone beneath her name was one of unflinching finality, worryingly close to Mrs. Radcliffe in her state of utmost vexation, and Nellie snapped shut her mouth at once, a reflex as old as her working life. ‘You don’t understand what I’m saying. I am the most public fae alive in a city that has banned all of us. The man who calls himself our Princeps is biting his ratty nails over the fact of my personal existence. I cannot step outside these gates without being trailed by the Mirror Queen’s spies wherever I go, and three times now they haveaccidentallycalled out my name on the list of those about to be executed on the square next door.’

The gallows.

Swinging peacefully in the summer breeze, waiting for the next neck to snap.

‘Kieran is rich and powerful and annoyingly charming,’ Doretha continued, her violin voice low and pressing. Her glass trembled slightly in her hand. ‘He can protect me to a certain extent, and he does it flawlessly. But we’re walking a very,verythin line, and Cyril and his cronies are waiting for a misstep – for even the smallest reason they can find to chain me up and kill me. Do you understand?’

Nellie wished she didn’t.

She wished this chain of arguments didn’t make so much sense.

‘So the last thing I’m able to do, Eleanor’ – suddenly there was a century of weariness on that flawless fae visage – ‘is march up to the guardhouse and announce that I have a murder to declare. Especially when there are six of them. Andespeciallywhen it’s very well possible …’

‘No,’ Nellie breathed, chest constricting. ‘No, please—’

‘… that the murderer is no less than a duke himself,’ Doretha finished and downed the rest of her glass.

Chapter 13

Nocurse.

---