Page 6 of Within the Hollow Heart

“Legal issue,” he repeated.

“A trivial matter, really. I would rather not discuss the details.”

“With the man you intend to marry.”

“Precisely.”

“And yet I’m meant to trust you.”

The smile she offered next was less reassuring. “Or marry Lady Carvell instead.”

Nickolas pressed his eyes shut and drew another breath. “My lady, I need to know this. Whatever danger you are in, I cannot just pretend it away. You have asked me to tie myself in this bargain. At least allow me the courtesy of being aware of the risks we’re meant to avoid.”

Her smile fell. She seemed to consider her answer for a long moment, one hand coming up to press thin fingers where a pendant might rest beneath the gray cloth. Nickolas did not take his gaze off her until her eyes finally rose to his.

She said, “I need to break a betrothal contract. One that was taken into agreement without my consent and must be broken by someone other than me.”

Her parents, then. Not so unlike Nickolas’s situation, except she did not appear to have been trussed up for the matter. Though, to be fair, she might have been tied using only less-literal bindings. “You claimed a relationship with both marshal and chancellor,” he pressed.

Jules nodded.

“Why not ask them for help?”

Her expression twisted something inside of Nickolas that wasn’t the familiar knot that had been set by his mother.

“I cannot,” she admitted. “Because I am not a true citizen of Westrende. They would be required by law to return me home. I’d be asking them to break a vow they’ve made to their kingdom. It’s untenable.”

She swallowed, the motion clenching that new spot inside of him. Her impossibly wide eyes met his.

“I need you, Nickolas.”

The thing inside of him snapped, his heart pulsing strangely as if it might lift from his chest.

It was grounded like a game bird when Jules said evenly, “And if you don’t help me, then your only choice is the lady Carvell or a locked cell.”

CHAPTER4

Jules and her bird had left Nickolas with no more than a brief farewell and a list of demands that included an introduction to Lord Beckett—a man who specialized in interkingdom law—and access to the private library of a Brigham family friend. In exchange, she would handle the threat of Carvell and his daughter.

Nickolas and Jules would keep the engagement to themselves.

“Brigham!” William clapped Nickolas on the back. “You’re early. Come, have a seat by the best of your associates before that horrific Lady Mena steals in again. I swear the woman’s rose water is strong enough to stave off a raging bear.”

“And yet it has remained ineffective against you,” Nickolas muttered as he scanned the room for any sign of his family, the kingsmen from the night before, or any threat not theretofore anticipated.

William’s hand slid to squeeze Nickolas’s shoulder, dragging him along to a high row of seats in view of the rostrum where kingdom officials would hold their forum and hear from the lords and ladies of Westrende.

Nickolas tugged himself from the man’s grip, settling between Ander and Redmahn instead. He did not have the patience for loutishness today. “Gentlemen.”

Ander offered only a brief nod, his eyes on the gathering crowd. Redmahn gave Nickolas the once-over. “Saints, what happened to you? You look as if you slept in the granary again.”

“Late night, Lord Brigham?” William said from Ander’s other side, far too loudly for Nickolas’s taste.

“What are we campaigning for today, my friends?”

“Avoidance will get you everywhere,” Ander murmured with a wink. He gestured toward the floor. “Lord Klein is in an uproar about the uptick in kingdom officials being removed from their posts. That’s where my interest lies as well. Not to prevent it, mind you. Only to gain some insight so that I might sneak into one of the vacated posts myself.”

Nickolas did not reply, because he knew a thing or two about the situation his peers did not. If anything could be said of Westrende, it was that tradition ruled. And it just so happened that tradition called for the willful denial of the existence of magic. It didn’t matter that the Rive was in place to keep the kingdom secure, that the ancient wall surrounding it was said to be a border of the fae realm of Rivenwilde. As far as any citizen was concerned, no magic inside Westrende meant no magic existed at all.

---