Page 39 of Lord of the Hollow Court
As they did the same for Braam, one helpful pixie set his cane upon the floor beside him, tilting the swan head until it met his grasp. Katty looked around in frightened wonder. They had deposited her just within the threshold, the double doors thrown open so that mist curled around her pretty ankles.
Braam leaned into his cane, stretched his back, and joined her there, offering her his arm.
“I thought we were to be taken to your rooms,” Katty said, a flush of pink ringing her neck.
Braam chuckled softly as the faerie between them began to hiss, startling her. “That is for later tonight,” Braam explained. “For now, we are to go into the woods of my lands. It’s a ceremony particular to the court’s lord or lady.”
Eyeing the darkening woods, Katty flinched. “And we must go out there?”
She was right—he ought to be more mindful of her body’s delicacy. Especially with what was to come. The sun was slanting through the mist, the evening already growing cold. To Braam, it was a nuisance, something that often aggravated his hip. For humans, the cold could be deadly. “Bring the lady her mantle,” Braam called.
“Why?” a troll called back. “She won’t be wearing it for long!”
Everyone began to laugh, causing Katty to stiffen and flush. She was comely, in her human way, when her cheeks and neck were rosy like this. Braam could get used to such things—he supposed. He straightened, alarmed at his traitorous heart.
Then again, one’s heart needed no part in it. This was a marriage of convenience. He’d been quite clear on that, as had she.
Bibi hurried forward with a heavy ermine mantle, placing the white fur around Katty’s shoulders while Rineke clasped it in the front. Lula had left no detail unaddressed; the silver clasp was imprinted with the raven and Hollcat crest of House Braam.
Even with the mantle, Katty trembled. Braam called for his own cloak, though he did not find it as cold as all that. He might need to offer it to Katty, or at least to lay it on the ground. It would be a shame to ruin her lovely dress. Doubtless, it was the product of tireless handiwork by Hollow Hall’s seamstresses.
As Braam fastened his own cloak, Misman hissed at him, followed by the others closest to them. Then came the boos, hisses and jeers, spreading in a wave that went deep into the halls. Katty threw up her arms before her, clasping the edges of her cloak as though it would protect her.
Braam sighed at her alarmed reaction. Was this so very different from what humans did at weddings? And why hadn’t her bridesmaids warned her of the fae side of things? They’d thought of everything else, from the gold-veined leaves stitched to her dress to the tiara that crowned her. One glance at Lula told him everything: there was a glint of mischief in her olive-colored eyes. She’d left this part of the tradition out on purpose.
Braam leaned closer to Katty, tilting his lips toward her ear. She smelled of perfume and human sweat, an odd combination. Yet it wasn’t unpleasant. “All fae weddings begin this way, after the vows are made. In our case, it’s time to go to the Lord’s Grove. They’ll jeer at us until we depart.”
Katty’s lip curled. “What a lovely tradition.”
“It’s good-natured—a way to indicate acceptance of the match, and that the couple aren’t to return without the rest of the ceremony completed.” He did not mention that the fae were also eager to begin celebrating in their absence. Fae tradition dictated the party must be jubilant by the time the bride and groom returned, and the average fae did not take that duty lightly—if with a stiff dram of faerie wine to hurry things along.
Katty glanced at him with sharp eyes, but said nothing.She still thinks the tradition barbaric.But this was hardly the time to change it; the booing would only grow louder until they left and the fae could begin their celebration in the mostly de-slimed ballroom. The more joyful the celebration when the bride and groom arrived, the happier, it was said, would be the marriage.
“Shall we?” Braam asked, raising his voice above the din.
Katty nodded, lips pressed tight, and walked beside him into the sunset that marked the true beginning of their fae marriage ceremony.
He brought her down the cobbled drive, veering into the deep shadows of the woods. She proceeded in perfect silence, uncomplaining as branches and burrs clawed at her dress, Braam leaning upon his cane so that he could support her climb when they came upon a felled tree. Braam wondered whether it had fallen from age or from the violence of the Wild Hunt.
As they reached the stone marker, Braam bid her to stop with light pressure on her arm. He extended his, twisting his open hand as if turning a large key.
With a sough, the trees bowed and parted, revealing the Lord’s Grove.
Katty gasped as she took it in. Lined with heavy lanterns and soft moss, the Lord’s Grove welcomed them in. As they entered, the trees knit behind them, giving the Grove the feel of a cozy room despite its size. They were perfectly secret here, shut away from the outside world. Will-o’-the-wisps darted between the lanterns, then rose to the sky, shining like stars before zipping back into the woods.
And then they were alone together.
“What is this place?” Katty asked, voice full of awe.
“My private grove. It will be yours, too, when the ceremony is done.”
“Ah, that other ceremony.” Katty wrinkled her nose. “Lula wouldn’t instruct me about it.”
Braam coughed. “I should hope not! Such natural things need no words.”
Katty frowned at him. “Don’t they?”
Braam tried to smile at her. It was not easy, with the image of his many nights and days with Madeleif still fresh in his mind. But this was necessary. And it wasn’t as though it would be unpleasant.
