Page 42 of Within the Hollow Heart

“What do you know of her best match?” Nickolas snapped. “Do you think her incapable of deciding that on her own?” He glanced at Jules. “Unless—if it’s the coin you’ve settled upon me, my lady, that can be returned. I won’t keep you from your own holdings.”

Gideon frowned. “Of course it isn’t that. She’s never been concerned with a fortune, and even if she was, she might take her pick of the lords present to find ample wealth and stability.”

“Stability?” Nickolas said. “So you think her incapable of choosing a husband who is stable. Dependable. Levelheaded.”

Gideon gave him a look.

Jules stepped between the men. To Gideon, she said, “Lord Alexander, the paperwork is already drawn up, remember? Nickolas and I have both signed the marriage contract. It only needs sealed by your office.”

He said, “I don’t have time to go back for—”

Ian leaned in to hold a folded parchment he’d drawn from his vest in front of Gideon’s face.

“I know you care about my well-being and only want what’s best for me, Lord Alexander. But please, know that I go into this arrangement with a full understanding of what it means. Lord Brigham is my choice.” She reached back to take Nickolas’s hand. “Now, if you’d kindly proceed before the curse has ruined our last chance to save my brothers.”

Repentant, Gideon inclined his head. He gestured for Nickolas and Jules to face forward and began an incredibly abridged version of the traditional recital, so swift that Nickolas had no time to panic that Jules might change her mind. Then Gideon asked, “Do each of you willingly enter into this agreement, aware that it is binding and may never be revoked?”

“I do,” Jules said with such a lack of hesitation that Nickolas forgot for a moment to breathe. She glanced up at him.

“I do,” he said to only her.

“Very well.” Gideon pressed the seal onto the contract, and the deed was done.

Frederick coughed up a feather. The dark bit of fluff and barbs flew into the gathering, startling Jules into taking a step backward and causing Ian to fumble the convulsing bird. At the center of the clearing, near the prince and his guard, the swans began to make calls of distress.

One of Jules’s hands came up to cover her mouth, the other pressed to her midsection. The moon seemed to glow brighter, not a cloud in sight, and though there was no breeze, Nickolas felt a chill prickle his skin. He slid an arm around Jules’s waist, terrified that the magic might somehow take her.

Frederick’s body jerked once more, and Ian lowered him to the ground. There was a great deal of unpleasant cracking and popping sounds, but Jules never looked away, didn’t bury her face in Nickolas’s shoulder, and only watched in horror as she leaned against Nickolas for support. Then a full-sized leg clad in trousers shot from the body of the small gray bird, and everyone jumped a full step backward.

A second leg followed, then two arms, and the chest of the bird seemed to heave into a full set of ribs and shoulders beneath a fine embroidered tunic. Nickolas did not see when the head appeared, but he was grateful when the writhing finally stopped. Frederick—no longer a bird but a weedy young man with a kind, clean-shaven face and eyes very like his sister’s—lay sprawled on the greensward, staring up at the sky. A long-fingered hand spread over his chest, adorned with a signet ring. He coughed once more, seemed momentarily on the edge of succumbing to emotion, then rolled onto his stomach before rising to his feet.

Ian reached out to steady him. Frederick appeared to find his balance then patted Ian’s hand. His gaze rose to Jules. There was a moment of stillness before both began to weep. The next moment, Jules was in Frederick’s arms. Mireille made a cooing sound. Then the group turned toward a commotion near the center of the clearing.

Five men of similar stature and build slapped one another on the arms, grabbing hold of tunics and exclaiming unintelligibly before making their way toward Frederick and Jules. She and Frederick broke through the crowd, rushing to meet their long-lost brothers. They picked Jules up in enthusiastic hugs, spinning her, mussed Frederick’s dark hair, and traded embraces between rapid bouts of conversation.

Etta moved to Nickolas’s side as they watched. A long breath eased out of her. “I’m glad you have found her.”

A small helpless laugh escaped with his reply. “I had nothing to do with it. She found me.”

He took in the scene and realized something did not quite sit right with him. Tone lowered, Nickolas asked, “Why is the prince still here?”

Expression grim, Etta did not respond. She remained at one side, sword in hand, as Gideon moved to Nickolas’s other side.

“Etta?” Nickolas asked.

The others in the clearing appeared to become aware of the sense of unease, one by one turning toward the prince and his men. The six brothers surrounded Jules, none of them armed. The lords with Mireille resumed their swords.

The prince waited until they all gave him notice, a slow smile tipping up the edge of his lips. “Yes,” he finally said. “All is well, the curse broken, and the happy family reunited.” It seemed for a moment as if he might turn to go, but he stopped, holding up a single finger. “There remains but one final resolution. A tiny matter, really, of barely any consequence at all.”

Nickolas’s heart, overfull only moments before, felt on the edge of breaking all over. It was a fragile thing; he was not certain it could take losing Jules, not after all that had happened. He held his breath, waiting for the words to make sense but could not fathom what had been left unanswered. Jules was free, her curse broken. The prince could not want her for a wife, not with the marriage contract signed and sealed.

The prince’s gaze connected with Jules’s.

“What matter is that?” Jules asked coldly.

His answering grin revealed too many teeth. “Only the matter of an unsettled debt.”

Etta and Gideon edged closer to Nickolas as the prince’s guard raised their swords.

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