Page 21 of Lord of the Hollow Court
“It was fine,” Rineke said, grousing a little—as if it wasn’t worth the fuss Katty made of it. “I’m Captain of the Parapet Emergency Guard anyway. It wasn’t like I was destined for sleep tonight.”
The words collided in Katty’s head, coming out in senseless fragments. “You shouldn’t have given me your bed,” she repeated, the only thing she could say.
“Well, I wouldn’t make a habit of it,” Rineke said, “but the state you were in, it was better to sleep by the door. Plus, there were ourgueststo consider.”
Katty drew up her knees. “I’m sorry I took your bed.”
“Not your fault.” Rineke fluttered her wings as she returned to the wardrobe, her toes skimming the floorboards. She plucked a silk-padded hanger from within. “You can wear this. I already sewed up the wing slits for you. Misman says humans are very particular about their modesty.” She scrunched her nose again.
“Thank you,” Katty said softly, her chin resting on her chest. She’d made such a fool of herself, and yet this faerie girl had gone out of her way to help her.
Rineke returned with a reply so loud, she nearly shouted. “What was that you said?”
Katty winced. “Thank you,” she answered in a louder voice.
“Good. Make sure you say it just like that if anybody else helps you. I suspect they’ll have to. You wouldn’t want to owe anybody else.” She frowned at Katty, who stiffened.
“What do you mean? Whom do I owe?”
Rineke bent at her waist, hands pressing into the front of her uniform and neck craning to peer into Katty’s face. “You really don’t remember? Because saying you forget won’t work—not with fae bargains.”
“I didn’t make a bargain,” Katty said, shaking her head fervently. “I wouldn’t. What would I even give? What would anyone want fromme?”
Still studying Katty’s face, Rineke said, “That’s just the thing, Katrina. Sometimes, a person can make such a mess of things there’s no resolution to be had but for a bargain. When you came here, you set off a Wild Hunt of the High Fae. They tore up Hollow Hall—not just the decorations we’ve worked on for so long, but ripping through walls and tearing doors off their hinges. Antiques dashed against walls and floors without a thought—things the Hollow Court can never get back. And the gardens! Don’t get me started on the gardens.”
“But I didn’t do any of that!”
“You caused it.” Rineke squinted. “You do know it could be worse, don’t you? You trespassed in the Hall of a fae court. If his lordship wasn’t so forgiving—if he hadn’t physically hid you from the High Fae—there wouldn’t be enough of you left to say you’d ever been. So you owe him, and you owe the court. You’ve got to fix what you’ve done.”
With every word from Rineke’s mouth, the color drained further from Katty’s face. By the time the faerie tossed the uniform onto the bed, Katty was shaking. “You mean I can’t go home?”
Rineke’s expression was not without sympathy. “‘Fraid not. Not until the damage is patched. You’ll work alongside my usual team, cleaning the lot of it and getting the surviving decorations stored away.”
“But—but what if I don’t want to?” Katty asked, teeth chattering. She hugged herself, frigid despite the bedding around her. The way Rineke screwed up her face was not reassuring.
“Let’s just say you’re better off staying here,” she answered at length. “That’s a whole level of fae debt you donotwant to incur.”
Hugging her knees, Katty nodded dumbly.
“Poor, silly thing. You won’t try running away, will you? ‘Course you will. Misman said mortals don’t have the common sense their delicate constitutions require, which is how they so often find trouble with the fae. Got a way with words, that Misman.” Rineke smiled to herself, as if at a private joke. She sighed. “At least say I warned you.”
Still hugging herself and quavering, Katty did not respond. She wasn’t sure she could form the words if she wanted to.
Lips pursed, Rineke approached her a final time, viewing her like an unusual painting. Then she extended a long-nailed hand and patted Katty’s head.
“There, there,” she said. “Now go get dressed. I’ll wait for you outside.”
Katty waited for the snick of the door before she began sobbing. There was such bitterness to all of this—all she’d wanted was a husband and to appease her mother! Instead, she was indebted to a storybook creature while sitting in another storybook creature’s bed. If she remembered the size of this manor at all correctly, cleaning it up would take forever—even if it hadn’t been damaged.
As Katty’s thoughts veered into despair, the worst of Rineke’s words floated to the surface.There wouldn’t be enough left of you to say you’d ever been.But Katty was alive, and those words were still true.
There would be some clamor when no one could find her at the ball, but soon enough, they’d all forget her. Everything she left behind belonged to someone else originally. The gristmill didn’t even belong to her family.
It was all so brutally clear. Katty van der Vos had left astonishingly little mark on the human world.
How in the name of everything good was she supposed to make a difference in that of the fae?
Chapter Eleven
