Page 34 of Lord of the Hollow Court
Katty furrowed her brows. “Why does everyone keep saying that? How many sweet sides do I need to be on?”
She found out minutes later, the bucket of mucky water still in her hand.
At first glance, the kitchen worked something like a gristmill when the hopper boys were at work spreading the flour, these many fair folk churning out preparations for lunch around a central table instead of the cullen stone. As they bustled around the table, moving clockwise, a pan began to sizzle over an elaborate contraption set over the hearth. The savory smell of onions and butter permeated the air and made Katty’s eyes sting. It was not difficult to tell which fae was the housekeeper. In the busy kitchen, she was the only one who remained in place, swiveling to oversee the errand boys as they hauled a delivery of goods from the open door to the pantry and cellar.
A knot formed in Katty’s stomach. The housekeeper resembled a small troll more than a fae. Like Braam and Misman, she had no wings. Unlike them, her skin bore the tint of spring grass. Lula looked an awful lot like Katty’s mental picture of witches after years of evildoing—though she had not thought to add a set of mossy green horns to the image.
As Lula turned, Katty saw that the horns arched toward each other above the significant height of the housekeeper’s corn silk hair, then curved away from each other. Her skin, though, was youthfully smooth, her recessed eyes a bright, twinkling green. They were intelligent, almost warm.
They turned hard the moment they set upon Katty.
“Don’t stand in my kitchen with that filthy bucket!” Lula bellowed so loudly Katty swore she felt in her bones. The water sloshed, threatening to leap over the bucket’s edge. Katty tried to back away, only to collide with Bibi. A split second later, she heard a telltale splash.
“What did I say?” Lula shouted, her round body lengthening until she towered over them all. “Clean that up before one of the kitchen boys slips on it!”
Katty dropped to her knees immediately, scrambling for a rag. Rineke shoved one into her hand moments later.
“I want this whole floor cleaned,” Lula said loudly. “The three of you, get to work!”
“But Lula,” Bibi whined.
Lula turned with astonishing speed, burning eyes locking on the plum faerie with an unspoken dare.
Rineke cleared her throat. “Actually, Lula, we’ve a task on his lordship’s behalf.”
As Lula’s eyes softened, a spark of interest brought back that intelligent glint. Even as she folded her arms, jutted out a boot from beneath the filet lace hem of her skirt, and tapped a toe impatiently. One glance at her posture, and Katty’s back was so tense she couldn’t have stood if she wanted to. It was a most uncomfortable way to scrub a floor.
“Well?” Lula demanded. “Out with it. What does Lord Braam need so badly he’d send a cleaning team to tell me?”
Rineke swallowed. “A wedding—his wedding. His lordship will marry tomorrow.”
Platters clattered, the only sound in the busy kitchen coming from a dropped salad plate that danced on the counter before coming to a teeth-chattering rest. Errand boys, two dozen chef’s assistants, plus a half dozen maids and serving girls froze at once. The chef held a shining knife aloft, then set it down without chopping anything. The entire kitchen staff ceased their industry, some confused, others gaping outright. Lula pursed her lips, as if waiting. The moment she dropped her shoulder, the kitchen erupted in questions, fae voices layering so completely Katty had trouble picking the words out.
His lordship is marrying? Who? When did you say? Tomorrow! Oh, I always hoped he would notice me! She’s nowhere near as pretty as me, is she? Do you know who it is? Why so suddenly? Why hasn’t he told us himself? A wedding! How are we supposed to prepare a feast on such short notice? The stores! Check the stores!
Lula raised a hand to silence them all, her nails long and pointed like claws. “Who is the lady, then?” she demanded. She raised a brow. “Not you, Rineke? I thought you fancied Hugo.”
Rineke gulped, eyes shifting around the room as if searching for him.How strange.Katty had not thought anything rattled Rineke—she’d assumed it was Hugo’s shyness that kept them apart. It left Katty wondering what on earth they were waiting for—then again, she had not spent enough time in the court to know if fae were pressured to marry the way humans were. She did not know whether fae marriages were even common. Lord Braam had asked, and she’d said yes, a simple equation growing more complex by the moment.
If Katty had met anyone who esteemed her the way Hugo did, and reciprocated as Rineke did, she would not have wasted a moment’s time. What was stopping them? She couldn’t very well ask Rineke now. Katty made a mental note to get to the bottom of it, and to see the two of them together before the snow flew. If fae were in the habit of marrying, she wished Rineke and Hugo would hold the next wedding after hers.
One of them ought to marry for love.
But for right now, if they did not get started, no marriage would occur at all. Dropping the rag from the ballroom, Katty cleared her throat, opened her mouth—and heard Rineke answer before her.
“This is Katrina van der Vos,” Rineke said grandly, as if this was a name everyone should know. Around the kitchen, expressions began to open and pointed ears pricked up—as if the folk were easily convinced by a long name and confident introduction. Katty tried to straighten where she crouched on the floor and immediately felt ridiculous. Instead, she bowed her head to the housekeeper and continued scrubbing.
“Stop that, child,” Lula barked. “We can’t have his lordship’s future bride scrubbing floors.”
Cheeks heating, Katrina picked up the rag and hung it from the lip of the bucket. She rose a little too quickly and clumsily, clasping her wet hands together before her. She said the only thing she could think of. “I’m not the sort of mistress who feels herself above the common tasks.”
Lula guffawed loudly. “Such brazen lies! I know you’re the little human who caused us so much ruin in the Wild Hunt, and that you’re under a geas to see the place repaired. It’ll take more than a pinch of bravado to fool me.”
Katty’s cheeks darkened further. Sweat dotted the back of her neck. Did everybody but her understand the geas she was under? If she wasn’t so terrified, she might squeak out the question.
“You!” Lula barked at a passing errand boy still holding a crate of pomegranates. “Give that to someone else and find Misman. He will confirm the details—if they are true at all, we shall need the exact time, and to know what his lordship will wear for the ceremony.” She pressed a spotted hand to her brow. “The mayor of Boogard usually does the ceremony—we’ll need a highly ranked official to replace him.Give me that.” Lula’s long nails swiped at Katty’s throat, yanking the poultice from her neck. Broken before a gasp had ever left Katty’s mouth, the remains of the leather thong hung uselessly from the back of her neck.
“You don’t need it,” Lula said, meeting Katty's widened eyes with steely olive ones. “The last of the High Fae departed an hour ago. We’re not barbarians in pretty wrapping like they are.” The contempt in her voice was more than clear. Visceral might have been the right descriptor—as would hints of a long-simmering enmity. Lula chucked the still-pungent sachet onto the table, her grip releasing fresh eye-watering waves of soapy lavender and biting mint.
