Page 65 of Lord of the Hollow Court
“I always loved you,” Braam said, crafting together the gentlest words he could, “and only you. While I was yours, I pursued no marriage, and produced no heir because of my love for you. But once you were through with me, I found unexpected comfort in my bride. Yes, it was a marriage of convenience, but we are soul-bound.” Braam held back a twinge, wondering if he meant these words, or if they really were just pretty things to comfort his former lover, to soften the blow. He knew only that he wanted them to be true, that he hoped they would prove to be in time.
“I know that fate brought her to me,” he continued, allowing a note of pleading to enter his voice. He pleaded not just for Madeleif’s understanding, but that she would allow him to leave. He saw now that Madeleif was his only hope of returning to the Hollow Court in one piece.
“Please be happy for me, Madeleif,” he begged, “as I would be happy for you and Aleksandr, or whomever is fortunate enough to be chosen by you.”
“Aleksandr?” Fenna de Groot’s inked brows rose high. Her laughter was twice as cold and cutting as before. “Youbedded that fool Aleksandr? Do you mean to say you’ve been a lover totwomen who next turned to a human?” Fenna tilted her mass of hair back as she cackled, the claw combs winking in the light. “Whatever did you do to make them both turn from fae kind? Are you that useless in a bed, or simply that unbearable?”
“That isenoughfrom you!” Madeleif growled, a long, pointed nail aimed at Fenna’s throat.
Now,Braam thought, and raced for the door, hobbling with every step and hoping the carpet would muffle the taps of his cane. His heart pounded furiously as he grasped the handle, praying it made no squeak as it turned.
The door floated open, its hinges as silent as the rest of the court. Braam slipped inside.
“You can’t run from us, Braam,” he heard Fenna shout just as the door closed behind him. “My darling Esmee is already on her way to your court.”
Fenna de Groot’s awful daughter.Shit,Braam repeated to himself with every step, barely registering the animal scream that could only have come from Fenna. The horse he was going to steal would be hell on his hip, and he already dreaded it.
But if it meant saving his court and his bride, he would endure the pain as long as he could. For no matter how fast he traveled, Braam already knew he would be too late.
Chapter Thirty-One
Mouse
Katty paced beneath the golden boughs rendered black by the night. He would be here. He had to be here. He told Misman he would be. When she tilted her head back, shutting her eyes for a long moment as she fought against fatigue, she blinked and saw the stars glistening through the branches. Somehow, they made her feel colder and more alone.
Her silver wedding band lay like ice on her finger.
Could the fae lie? She was not sure. They could omit things. That was for certain, she thought wryly, thinking of Braam and flushing, not at the memories of them together but with anxiety for him. She wished she knew where he was. She wished for a great number of things.Braamshould be here instead of her.
According to Bibi’s explanation, it meant something for a fae to give you his full name. She tried to answer Katty’s questions along the way to the footbridge, while Rineke led the horse that carried Katty and Bibi with effortless flight, the bright green of her wings and yellow hair visible even in the sublime darkness of the woods. There was still so much to learn. Fae names had power—Misman had said that, too—but only for the person to whom it was given.
Janus Muis had given her his full name. So had Braam.Adrianus.Katty recalled the murmur that swept through the room as Braam recited his vows, the high, surprised tone of it. A fae name, freely given, was an unbreakable promise.
But where was Braam, and why wasn’t Janus Muis here? Where were either of them?
Katty wrapped her cloak around herself, tugging up the hood the wind had dislodged. An unpleasant burr had lodged deep in her chest, like a tugging back toward Hollow Hall as she paced. It bothered her less here, shaded by the trees. This must be the border between the fae and human lands, where the Headless Horseman had collided with Ichabod Crenwell. But it was strange and uncomfortable, the way Hollow Hall urged her back. Insistently. Katty rubbed at her collarbone, squirming under an unknown pressure.
It was so late—almost midnight. Where was the man they called a sorcerer—the one who had frightened the wits out of her on Halloween night?
At last, when Katty was about to give up and return to where Rineke and Bibi waited just a shout’s distance away with the shaggy horse, the pounding of hooves trickled through her fretful thoughts. Katty’s body tightened in response, her heart beating double.
Not again,she thought, clenching her teeth against the sight of the headless horseman. But when a dark shape crested the footbridge, it belonged to the tall man with the long black hair, the one who’d been so kind to her in the garden on Halloween.
“Janus Muis,” Katty said, dropping her folded arms. “I thought you wouldn’t come.”
“I came at the witching hour,” he said, nodding to the half moon above them. “The best time for our business to be conducted.”
Katty chose not to ask what that meant.
“Where is my husband?” she asked, trying not to sound demanding. “Can you help us find him?”
“I believe he is on his way home even now,” Muis said, the kindness in his voice soothing away some of Katty’s tension. She wanted to believe him. She hoped it was true.
“But so is another,” Muis continued. “One with a dark spirit that has yet to be tamed.”
Katty held her breath. There was something to be said for terrible news. When you did not consider life to be all rose petals and honey, it tended to make the good news said before or after it far more believable.
“Who?” she breathed. “Who’s coming to the Hollow Court?”
