Page 35 of Lord of the Hollow Court
At least the thyme had been pleasant. Katty rather enjoyed the smell.
“Now, would someone tell me how his lordship expects anyone to find a substitute for the mayor of Boogard in little more than a day?”
An attempt at replying resulted in a rough, phlegmatic noise issuing from Katty’s throat. Lula had her scared half out of her wits—a condition that was less about the fae woman’s appearance and more about her personality by the minute. Did she evenhavea sweet side? On her second attempt, Katty managed, “I’ve requested a human minister.”
The angry flare in Lula’s eyes frightened Katty into taking a step back. “A minister? Where are we to find one of those?”
Katty took another step back, again feeling Bibi behind her. It happened so quickly she might have imagined it, but Bibi caught and squeezed Katty’s hand. The gesture of support must’ve helped, because sound—coherent words, at that—came from Katty’s mouth. “At a church, ma’am,” she replied.
Lula made a disgusted sound. “I’m sure that conversation will go well.”
“His lordship said he would obtain the proper celebrant.”
The little green woman snorted. “‘Obtain,’ is averynice way to say ‘kidnap,’ don’t you think?”
Katty blanched. They wouldn’t kidnap aminister,would they? But before Katty could ask her for clarification, Lula was already ambling away, barking order at kitchen staff as she went.
“Come with me,” she ordered Katty. Lula drew herself up, then began to walk with dainty, mincing steps that made her easier to follow. The moment she exited the kitchen, her powerful stride and intimidating posture vanished. Katty left the bucket where it sat and shuffled after her, head low, Rineke and Bibi close behind her with identical postures.
Ten hours later, a mix of pixies and human-sized faeries finished arguing about the neckline of Katty’s dress and handed her the garment to try. It was too warm, being swarmed by so many fae—a dozen of them, though when they flitted about with their gossamer wings, it felt like there were twice as many. Katty could not shift an elbow without bumping some girl or other with measuring tape, or earning herself a pin in her arm. Each time a bead of blood welled up, one of the faeries began to screech “don’t ruin it, we’ve no time,” as if she could control her bleeding.
She wouldn’tbehere if she could.
My mother should be with me,Katty thought as she tried the dress behind a screen.I should be wearing my sister’s dress. I should atleastbe wearing a corset.But the faeries had insisted she should not wear one.
“It looks like a torture device,” one said.
“No fae would put themselves through this,” said another.
“It gives a woman shape,” Katty tried to explain, but they would not hear of it.
This gown was hers and not, a piece of fae craftsmanship too light for words, as if the threads were all spider silk. Her sister’s dress could never compare.
Though Katty had always detested her life of hand-me-downs, always with others’ leavings, always second to someone else, it didn’t feel right, and not simply for the lack of corset. Why didn’t this fine, heavy cloth feel better as it slid over her petticoats than anything she wore before? Why did this not feel like a victory? The lace the fae seamstresses used on her wedding gown was nothing like the trolly lolly she was used to, the stitches so fine, even and delicate it billowed evenly on soft air; if subjected to a mild wind gust, it was likely to blow away. Each time Katty turned for the seamstresses, her dress floated around her. Not even Katrina de Vries had such fine lace in her possession.
“Low fae craftsmanship,” one of the flower-like pixies said with a smile when she noticed Katty marveling. “We’re the only fae who can do it.”
“Why is that?” Katty asked.
A pinkish pixie shrugged. “We’re not bound up in oaths to the gods like the High Fae are. The perks of being relatively harmless.”
Relatively.Forcing a swallow down a suddenly dry throat, Katty eyed a fawn-like faerie, who grasped a heavy set of shears like a weapon of war, with new respect. Katty ought to have put a great deal more thought into marrying into the faerie world, but what choice did she have?
And this arrangement was not without its benefits. By the time Katty stepped from behind the screen, the sewing room was an even deeper mess of beautiful scraps, the ruby, gold and umber embroidery in each piece finer than anything Katty had ever glimpsed in her eighteen years. She would be mistress of all this and more, once she married Lord Braam.
So why had a knot formed in her throat?
The feeling worsened to a burn as the pixies guided her to the set of three mirrors, each taller than Katty. She stared back at her reflection, afraid to blink. If she closed her eyes for even a second, Katty feared the image before her would go away.
Her reflection stood before her, swaying slightly, the girl within it resplendent in the autumnal dress that moved like leaves on the wind. It was so beautiful that it changed Katty’s appearance, her face less sharp and not nearly as plain. It was like magic.
She looked like a lady.
“Wow,” Rineke said.
“Katty, you look wondrous,” Bibi exclaimed.
“Lady of Lindendam who?” Rineke added, her reflection nudging Bibi with an elbow.
