Page 54 of Lord of the Hollow Court
Rineke folded her arms. “Ask me what, pray tell?”
Katty reached for a roll. They were light and buttery to the touch. “You know very well what we mean!”
“For a roll in the hay,” Bibi provided with a wink, snatching a roll and clutching it to her chest like jewels.
Mid bite, Katty’s eyes widened. “I didnotmean that.” She paused a moment, chewing thoughtfully while Rineke acted irritated with them both. “You should court. Or however it’s done in faerie lands.”
“Apparently,” Rineke said, turning puckish eyes toward Katty, “it’s done quite well.”
“Oh, stop!”
A rapid knock made them all jump. Before Katty could ask who it was, the door swung open. Lula strode in, a twisted walking stick in hand and a scowl on her face. She kicked the paneled door shut behind her. “Misman sent me to ready you,” she proclaimed grouchily. “The apple harvest arrives this morning, and his lordship is missing.”
“Missing?” Katty slipped from the bed. “What do you mean?”
“He’s unaccounted for. Can’t be found. His lordship wouldn’t neglect his duties.” A frown twisted Lula’s lined face. “Misman’s working on it. But for now, we must act as though nothing is amiss. The first cart will arrive within the hour, so we don’t have much time. Rineke, Bibi—”
“On it,” Rineke said.
“The red dress will do nicely,” added Bibi, turning to a carved oak wardrobe that matched the four poster bed.
Lula straightened, then tapped her stick on the carpet as if she were the master of a ceremony. The corners of her mouth turned downward as she glanced at Kathy in her night dress. “Time to see what sort of lady you’ll make. Your court needs you, Katrina Braam.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Two Casks of Cider
Who knew being a lady required so much daily preparation? Katty reached the open doors of Hollow Hall just as another cherub-cheeked boy came fluttering down the cobbled drive, shouting, “They’re here, they’re here! The first of the apple carts are on their way!”
Tapping her walking stick to Katty’s ankle, Lula made a low noise in her throat that Katty almost mistook for a growl. “That’s Hugo’s youngest brother. Don’t be fooled by those delicious cheeks. He’s a true imp and has the tail to prove it.”
Katty paled at the word “tail.” Sure enough, as the boy turned to travel back down the winding drive, a short, pointed tail flicked behind him.
“The alterations that boy requires,” Rineke said with a moue of distaste. “It wouldn’t be so bad if he only needed them once, but he tears up seams like the little devil he is.”
Katty swallowed. “Are devils real, too?”
Rineke grimaced as Lula said gruffly, “We don’t talk about that.”
It was a relief when Bibi bravely whispered in her ear, “They’re probably nothing like you think. Humans have us fae all mixed up. Look at Lula. She’s a troll but she’s hardly big, hairy and doltish.”
Glancing at Lula, Katty felt her unease reach upward from her gut to tighten her throat. Now that Bibi mentioned it, Lula was exactly how she’d picture a troll, complete with the greenish hue to her skin. It was all the more pronounced in the rosy, early light, which glinted on the tips of her curved horns.
Trolls, will-o’-the-wisps, faeries, pixies—and a fae lord husband to top it all. Katty shook her head at what had become of her life, then shifted on her abused feet. Everyone assured her the balm Lula brought to rub into her soles would help. She couldn’t wait for that to happen.
She glanced down at her slippers, the same ones she’d worn to Katrina de Vries’ party. The ones she’d run through woods and garden beds, then cleaned countless rooms in Hollow Hall while wearing. She tried to clean them each night—or in the morning, when she collapsed into the little wrought iron bed at night, sore and exhausted—but there was only so much that could be done. Until Boogard reopened, there was no nearby cobbler, and fae slippers were ridiculously narrow.
These worn slippers were all the more shabby compared to her new, velvet dress, bright and red as the foliage around the manor. She hoped none of Braam’s subjects would notice.
But they werehersubjects, too. Once, Katty wished she had it all—the wealth of the de Vries, the power of a well-respected husband. Now that she had it and more, she quailed at the thought of serving so many fae as their Court’s Lady. She didn’t even know how many kinds of fae there were.
She swallowed painfully, her throat still raw. She still had so much to learn. What business did she have filling in for a fae lord?
The sound of wheels and a cart blundering along the misty cobbles broke through Katty’s ruminations. The first cart came—followed by another and another. Katty felt herself beginning to sweat, which made her keenly aware that every fae she’d met smelled like a grassy meadow at worst.
As the carts neared with a smell of fresh apples so strong it must’ve been an enchantment, Katty found herself mesmerized by the horses that pulled them. Small for draft horses, their fetlocks were well-feathered in white, some with brown patches that matched their pinto coats. They were shaggy, stout little beasts, with ears shaped like Lula’s horns and delightful little beards. Most beautiful all were their manes, long and luxurious, dotted with braids. The horses tossed their thick manes as they pulled.
They were so lovely—like creatures straight from an illustrated storybook—that Katty nearly forgot to be nervous.
