Page 40 of Within the Hollow Heart

“Oh.” Mireille’s fingers twisted awkwardly at her waist. “I thought—well, I’ve brought along three of my best courtiers so that she might choose one of them and marry someone close to home.”

Etta looked pained. Gideon was frowning. And Nickolas remembered, quite suddenly, that he was about to lose everything. He’d exposed the family’s debt, his mother had been thrown into a cell, and Nickolas was a fae prisoner, only released on the condition that Jules wed the prince.

“Right,” he said. “Of course. Best that she marries one of…” He glanced at the three men near Princess Mireille, all handsome, well-dressed, and evidently not at all put out by standing in a fae-filled forest or cowed by the prince. He swallowed thickly. “Don’t know what I was thinking. Do carry on before it’s too late.”

“Can you do that?” Jules’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it seemed to echo off the trees.

“He’s the chancellor,” Etta reminded her. “He can. And I can stand as witness. That makes two officials to seal the contract. It is all that is required.”

“Renounce my title. Renounce my kingdom. Marry a lord.”

Gideon drew one of the papers from the bundle tucked against the crook of his arm, the king’s seal glinting in the torchlight. The chancery was guardian of the seal until a king was returned to office. Gideon truly did have the power to save her.

They could break her curse.

The prince clicked his tongue then said flatly, “Noal, seize the lady.”

CHAPTER19

The clearing came alive with movement. Jules was grabbed by Noal, her dagger knocked to the ground. Gideon and Etta rushed forward with swords drawn, Mireille’s lords took formation around their princess, and Ian and the bird were suddenly locked inside a cage of fae warriors with Nickolas.

The prince lifted a hand, and Etta and Gideon seemed to slam into a wall of magic in their approach. They each fell a step backward, chests heaving, matching glares trained on the prince. Noal drew a fighting Jules closer to his chest, giving the prince room as he surveyed the crowd.

The prince said, “I was promised a bride, and a bride I shall have.” He quirked a brow at Etta. “Unless you would like to war with Rivenwilde this night, Lady Ostwind.”

The figures carved into the filigree wall seemed to move as if restless in anticipation. Vines curled outward from the wall, skirting the fae guards as they unfurled, reaching toward Jules and the prince. Noal kicked one of the vines away. The earth beneath Nickolas’s feet felt alive with magic. In the shadowy trees, the fae creatures edged closer.

Etta lifted her sword as if she might rush the prince, but a marshal could not declare war—against the fae or anyone else. That responsibility would fall only to a general, and it was a keen reminder of previous battles between Westrende and the fae. Etta’s jaw flexed. “If you take Jules through that wall, you will pay in ways you never imagined.”

The prince’s smile made clear he had every intention of doing so. “As she has said, she is not a citizen of Westrende. You have no claim on her, no call to intercede.”

If she renounced her title and kingdom and married a Westrende lord, Jules would become a citizen of Westrende. The marshal would have every reason to intervene.

They had to get her out of Noal’s hands.

Nickolas glanced at Ian, who had drawn his sword. The bird was tucked neatly inside his vest. Ian inclined his head infinitesimally, and Nickolas’s fist tightened around the ring as he gave a small nod back. Together, they surged forward, Ian crashing low into the fae before them while Nickolas leapt through a narrow opening, gaining a cut to the arm and a mere few steps closer to the prince and Jules.

Fae magic surged through the ground, throwing another cage of roots between Nickolas and the prince. But Jules’s ring was in his hand, and Nickolas burst through with a single slash of his sword. The prince’s calm demeanor shifted to something decidedly more sinister, but Nickolas’s step did not falter. An entire wall of roots and vines split the earth, exploding rich soil and greenery over Nickolas, but again, he slashed through with ease.

The prince shifted to face him before turning his palm open, and Noal quickly fumbled with a fighting Jules to hand over a finely made sword. The prince’s long fingers curled around the hilt with practiced grace and something that spoke of his eagerness to engage.

“Nickolas, stop!” Gideon called from the sidelines as warnings and chatter rose from the watching crowd, trapped by fae magic.

“I’ll renounce my citizenship,” Nickolas said, his pace never slowing, attention never leaving the prince. “Do it, Gideon, before I drive my blade through this blackguard and be done with him once and for all.”

The prince readied his stance. “Yes,” he said. “Do it, Gideon.”

Jules shouted, “No!” shoving hard into Noal then slamming a boot to his instep before driving an elbow up to connect with his chin. She lurched forward, half out of Noal’s grip, just as Nickolas raised his sword and just as a cloud slid over the moon.

The sky went dark for one moment. In the next, a slow humming built, something beyond the trees drawing nearer. The breeze picked up again, the darkness cleared, and in the silvery light of the moon, five shapes came into view.

Nickolas’s approach fell to a stop only paces away from the prince. Ian slammed into Nickolas from behind, jarring a curse out of Ian before his eyes, too, found the sky. They stared up with all the others as the shapes descended. The fae guards took a step back, Etta and Gideon several steps nearer. Mireille let out a sigh of what could only be delight.

Before anyone had even the inclination to throw her a quelling look, five giant birds dove into the clearing, the light glowing off their white wings. They did not slow to glide into a landing but came full force, whooping and grunting, knocking into the trellis, swooping at Noal’s head, and crashing the altar to the ground. Two of them rammed into the prince, viciously pummeling until he dropped his sword. Evidently, the fae prince’s magic was no match for a curse made by the queen, because he threw no root cages or walls of magic their way.

Jules came to her feet, eyes wet with evident joy. Her gaze met Ian’s through the chaos, and in awe, Ian whispered, “They’re here.”

Had Ian not believed that Jules hadn’t harmed her brothers, here was all the evidence he would need. The five elder brothers had returned in the form of birds, wreaking havoc just as Mireille had said.

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