Page 75 of Lord of the Hollow Court
The Lord of the Hollow Court had a confession to make.
Chapter Thirty-Six
The Miller’s Daughter
“Katrina,” Braam began, putting all of his sorrow and regret into his tone. “I was untrue to you. I’m sorry.”
Katrina Braam’s eyelashes fluttered as though she’d already fallen into a doze. “What?”
“I was untrue.” Lord Adrianus Braam let out a long, guilty sigh. “It was Madeleif who snatched me away, using a kind of magic called a thrall. I forgot our vows—actually forgot them. Though I did not bed her, it seems it was not for lack of trying. In truth, I have little memory of the incident.”
Rolling onto her elbow, she crinkled her nose at him. “Whois Madeleif?”
Braam swore inwardly. He wished he didn’t have to say it. “Our liege, from Lindendam.”
“Oh.” Katty—Katrina—was silent for an agonizingly long moment. “I don’t know what any of that means—most of it anyway.” She sighed, weariness softening her expression. “This is a marriage of convenience. If there is someone else for whom you have feelings—”
“I have no feelings for Madeleif,” Braam said, eyes fixed on his bride’s. “Once, I loved her—I thought the world of her. But she did not prove herself worthy of such esteem. Nor did I receive the consideration I ought to have from her. She treated me lightly, always, and often cruelly, regardless of how ardently I loved her, or perhaps because of it. I was hers to command, and that was the way she desired me; she did not think me truly worth having until I loved her no longer. If she had not put a thrall on me, I would never have forsaken you for her. I would never do that to you, Katrina.”
Sitting up, his court’s Lady drew up her knees, pressing her chin to them. She opened her mouth once, then shut it, as if losing her nerve to speak. At last, she said, “I do not know you well yet. But I know you deserve far better treatment than what you describe.”
Much of the seriousness faded from Braam’s expression, his shoulders lighter and his body a touch less weary. A surge of mischief warmed his chest. “And do you mean to treat me as well as I deserve, little fox?”
She crinkled her nose at the nickname. “Why wouldn’t I? I certainly expect very fine treatment from you.” She tossed a clutch of bothersome locks over her shoulder, revealing a piece of leaf.
How could such a teasing comment change so much? It was as if Braam saw her anew. He’d spent his entire life struggling to know his own value—how strange that he’d wed this perplexing little creature, who was shy and bold in turns, and who knew her own worth so well she could state it with ease. She was both antithesis and balm to him.
Braam’s gaze followed the length of her folded legs, landing on her bare feet. She really did have pretty ankles. And such small feet—if he could move without pain spearing his hip, he would rest his hand upon one of them just to touch her, to feel her warmth.
“I’ve done many a rash thing in my life,” he said, both his voice and expression softening, “and regretted them soon after. You may think it strange, but asking for your hand is the one impulsive thing I’ve done that I haven’t completely regretted.”
Her eyes were sharp. “Completely?”
A laugh rumbled in his throat. “I had some misgivings whilst I stood beside the minister.”
As she watched him from beneath her lashes, Katty’s hand traced the stitching of the comforter, hand straying closer to where he lay. “And I had them when we entered the Lord’s Grove.”
“Truly?” His eyes widened. “I thought you so brave.”
“I did not begin that way.” She swallowed. “You made it easy to be brave.”
Braam’s attention sharpened. This sounded a great deal like affection. Had she forgiven him already? He hadn’t expected that. Instead of rejoicing, he found himself searching for an explanation, a reason that might not be so. She didn’t strike him as one who was blind to the flaws of others—which is why the compliment meant so much to him. If he tried to be more forgiving toward himself—if he viewed himself the way she did for a moment—he could surmise that no one would understand the disastrous effects of fae magic quite so well as a human in fae lands.
Maybe it was possible to be forgiven after all. With time, he would show her he was worthy of that trust.
Gulping in a breath, that beguiling bride of his said, with her eyes still downcast, “I have a confession to make also.”
Braam tilted towards her, the best he could do with his hip so inflamed. It would be days before the joint would settle into anything resembling its proper place. With a silent curse aimed at it, he resigned himself to the fact that he could not sit up and face her properly. It worried him, how serious she’d grown.
“The fae artifact, the one missing from the court?” Katrina began, all uncertainty. Braam’s forehead creased at the mention. When had she even learned of it? “I found it. And then I lost it.” She winced.
Braam wished more than ever that he could sit up. “What do you mean? How did you lose it?” How had shefoundit?
“Janus Muis, the fae sorcerer—he made a bargain with me, to help me find the tiara.”
“Diadem,” Braam corrected.
She frowned. “It was more of a tiara when I found it, and then it was a circlet. And a book right after that.”
