Page 13 of Lord of the Hollow Court
“Whatis itwith you tonight? Did I pass some law that has you in a foul mood?” Madeleif removed her hands to touch her hair, her perfect locks covering everything he wished to catch a final glimpse of. And it must be a final glimpse. He shouldn’t have abandoned his revel for this long, and on such a crucial night. But when it came to Madeleif, Braam’s usual rashness became a complete lack of control.
“You know what tonight means for me,” he said.
“Sweet Braam, if you were worried about the Council’s decision, you should’ve taken someone else into your bedroom. You know you have my vote.”
His hand curled into a fist as he struggled to stand. “Tonight is my final chance to make a good impression upon the Council—to show them my court can survive without the resources of a larger one.”
“Stop worrying,” Madeleif bid him, rising to her knees and taking his face in her hands. “Everything looked wondrous downstairs—what I saw of it.”
He offered her a soft kiss. “I know, darling. But I can’t help feeling it all will go wrong.”
“The Hollow Court won’t fall apart without you if you take a well-deserved break. You didn’t even notice when all that yelling drifted up from below.”
“What?” Braam tried to stand, dropping to all fours immediately. Madeleif caught him before he fell to the floor. His cane thwacked onto the rug beside them.
“I knew it,” she said, inhaling sharply through her teeth. “Ididhurt you.”
“Some,” he admitted, cheeks darkening. “You are both too beautiful and too strong for me. But it isn’t your fault my hip is beyond repair.”
“I ruined you.” She shook her head, suddenly close to tears. “I took a beautiful, proud, honorable man and bent him to my will until he no longer trusted me. What kind of monster does that?”
“Peace, Madeleif.” He found himself encircling her with his arms. “I consider it a privilege to be mauled by you.”
Her replying laughter was golden, tinged by only a touch of ferocity. “I trained you to feel that way. I am always two steps ahead of you, sweetling. I’m my own worst enemy at all times—and yours, too, I think.” She sighed. “You should find a lady to be gentle with you.”
“You are gentle enough.”
“Another lie.”
He didn’t see it coming. She backhanded him so swiftly, even the pain did not catch up to him for several moments. But he would not clutch at his cheek when it did. He had only a little pride left now, and wished to keep every remaining speck of it.
“I warned you,” she purred. “I wanted two truths and a lie and no more. I want no more of your easy lies.” She shuddered, her eyes bright. “Now run along, my sweet lord, before I decide to make you stay. Your revel needs you, as you say.”
He let go of her, that same unquenchable longing filling his throat until it became impossible to swallow. He had to leave. He had to.
As it so often did, the pain put him past embarrassment; he was forced to abandon his cane and crawl in order to chase down his velvet trousers. His remaining pride prevented him from asking Madeleif for help. Besides, in her current mood she was just as likely to tear up his clothing as hand it to him.
He slipped into his trousers distractedly, pushing himself into a chair so he would not lose balance on his unstable leg.
“Poor, sweet Braam. I’ll have to find sturdier company,” she said with a sigh.
Braam looked up sharply. The playful glint no longer brightened her pale eyes.
Madeleif was not joking.
It was in that careless half smile—there, in the shift of her eyes. It was the fact that a fae bargain kept High Fae like her from lying. That she had mentioned other lovers twice—thrice, if he counted her mate.
She’d grown bored with him.
How had he not seen it before? Braam’s body deteriorated between visits, the vigor of their coupling diminishing. At last year’s Samhain revel, he’d caught her watching the young Lord of the Court of Swords, barely a man and already renowned for his cruelty. What, he’d wondered, could appeal to her about a man like that?
There was only one possible answer: the Swords lordling was High Fae, and he was full of youth and energy. He had an irksome way of bouncing on his heels in conversation, just as he flapped his jaw with the ferocity of a nutcracker. Yet he was pretty and perfect in appearance, just as she was. Braam simply could not compete with a young High Fae.
He exhaled deeply, knowing he had sacrificed the smoothness of the night and his duties as host, all for this woman who saw him only as a plaything. Much as Braam was loath to admit it, he was too old to keep doing this to himself.
Damn his impulsive nature. Damn his love for this wild and beautiful creature, still naked on his floor.
Shouts carried up to the bedroom windows from the grounds below. Braam furrowed his brow as tingles crawled back through his scalp. Had someone discovered the cursed sorcerer in the ballroom already? He rushed to the casement, searching for the source of the noise. A shadow passed through the mists below, but it looked nothing like a stallion. Braam scratched at his chin, the memory of the earlier commotion coming back to him. He’d been too busy keeping up with Madeleif to give it the attention it deserved.
