Page 50 of Lord of the Hollow Court
This was one bit of trouble that Braam could not put aside. So he did what a Court’s Lord should, and faced it directly, with a smile.
“Madeleif,” he said warmly, tapping his cane to announce his arrival.
She turned, arms already folded, her long nails biting into her bare skin. “Lord Braam,” she said stiffly.
Braam’s smile fell in an instant. He had never seen such rage in her eyes.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Rage and Delight
The moment she heard Braam, Madeleif raised the fur collar of her coat and shook out the long hem, as if the Hollow Court was a bit of dust she needed to be rid of. Braam approached cautiously, a knot already in his stomach.
“Howdareyou,” Madeleif ground out before he could greet the Lady of Lindendam, her voice barely level. Looking as though it required a great deal of effort to keep from shouting at him in his own foyer, a muscle flexed twice in her jaw before she could speak again. “The letter was enchanted to alert Bakker when you opened it. You can’t feign ignorance about this.”
Braam angled his cane so it rested between them. He furrowed his brow. “About what, my lady?
One of her hands curled in a way that suggested crumpling paper—perhaps an old love note of theirs and not the notice of the Fae Council’s decision. “You know you are to join the Court of Claws,” she said, pointed teeth flashing, “and yet you do this? You take ahumanas your lady wife—into yourbed?Have you no shame at all?”
Braam’s back went rigid. How had word spread so quickly?
But the answer was obvious. Madeleif—or perhaps King Bakker—had informants placed in his court. The truth trailed cold fingers down Braam’s neck, then wrapped his heart in its bitter grip. They’d been spying on him, perhaps as long as he’d been Lord. He and Misman were in for a long few weeks of interviewing servants and delivery persons.
Braam pasted on a half smile—the best he could manage. “I wasn’t aware my choice of bride violated any laws,” he said, careful of his tone. “If so, I’m sure the Order will pay me a visit.”
Madeleif’s full, red lips curled in disgust. “You’ve brought shame on yourself, my friend. And shame on me, too.”
Ah, so that’s what this was really about. She was angry he’d found another so quickly—she who strode from his room as if leaving him was easy, as if their tryst had meant nothing more than the usual affairs of High Fae nobles. Who was she to judge him for that?
But as Madeleif began to speak, face contorting with vivid anger, he realized that wasn’t what truly enraged her. “You’ve made a laughingstock of me,” she growled. “Everyone at the Court of Claws knows we were lovers, and now they know you’ve replaced me with a human wench! And worse than that, you’ve made her your Court’s Lady! It won’t be a week before the news reaches Lindendam.” She began to pace, her long legs turning the stilted movement into strides. “When I step on my own lands again, it will be waiting for me. All the gossip, the snide remarks—how could you do this to me, Braam? Did I mean nothing to you?”
Braam’s movements were slow and stiff as he shifted his weight, every inch of him uncomfortable. “This wasn’t about you.”
“Oh, that much you’ve madeclear.” She paused just long enough to sneer at him, as though he were a patch of the ballroom slime. “I was right to rid myself of you. You’ve proven yourself utterly unworthy of my attentions. I’ll be glad when your puny little court is dissolved!”
Slowly, Braam began to uncoil. Hearing the worst of his fears aloud had a strange effect, releasing the tension he’d held for so many months. He felt as though he was slowly melting into the travertine floor.
As he was sinking, he said, “Whatever you believe I have done, Aleksandr will do ten times worse. I am free to marry as I choose. If Fenna de Groot doesn’t like it, she may withdraw her claim.”
Madeleif scowled at him. “I knew that was your plan—and a foolish one, too. I’d sooner see your rule handed to another low court than allow you to keep it. I’m sure the Barkeater Court would be delighted to have your lands.” She jabbed a finger into the air between them. “Look at this place, Braam! Look what you’ve made of it. The magic is withering faster than an autumn leaf, and what do you do to save it? Marry a girl of no consequence, and of no magic at all! You aren’tfitto rule this place.”
Numbed by her rage, Braam continued his slow descent into the floor. “The apple harvest is being brought this morning,” he said, voice distant even to himself. Was this shock? “You may stay if you wish—my subjects would be thrilled to see you. But I must beg your leave, my lady. I have duties to attend to.”
Slowly, with the sense he was dragging the weight of every one of his subjects by his ankles, Braam limped his way toward the double doors of the Hollow Court. When they were abreast, Madeleif’s long nails, lacquered a bloody red, grasped his shoulder, halting him easily. Her grip was like a vise. He was too removed from his own body to flinch. “Bakker knows,” she hissed. “He always knew.”
As if it were a hot summer day, the air too thick to move quickly, Braam lazily turned his head. “And did you know?” he asked. “Did you continue visiting me, knowing what would happen to my court?”
She shook her head, something like regret flitting through her pale eyes. “He kept it from me. He only told me now because I ended things between us. Evidently, he was waiting to see how long it would take me.” Madeleif clucked her tongue, her beautiful face marred by revulsion. “He told me he sent his best people to seek out your lost diadem, and when they found it, he ordered it hidden somewhere it could never be found. He wants to see your court brought to an end just as much as I do.”
There was a hint of falseness in this last part, a lack of the vehemence she had begun her visit with. But High Fae could not lie—they each took enchanted vows when they came of age, a well-meaning effort by ancient fae to keep the peace between courts. The ancient Council had not known how adept the High Fae would become at getting around this through clever phrasing. She was not lying, but something of the truth was masked by her words.
Braam would wager all the buttery rolls in his kingdom that Bakker no longer cared. It had to be Madeleif herself who pressed this issue.
“Why?” he asked her. “Talk of my court being subsumed by the Court of Claws has gone on for months. We only ended things a week ago.”
Her eyes flashed, as if angry she’d been caught in an untruth. Mirroring the way she’d entered the court, she crossed her arms, though her fur collar now sagged around her collarbones. Whatever she wore underneath, the neckline was apparently low. Was she still seeking to seduce him?Now?
“I’m a jealous person at heart,” she said, loosening one hand to trail it down his arm, the nail dragging none too gently through his shirt to rake his skin. Her laughter was low and mirthless. “You cannot blame me. I’ve been Queen Consort of one of the greatest courts for so long—I am used to having everything in my sight.”
