Page 34 of Hand-Fasting and Other Hazards
Reluctantly, Nia stepped back and smoothed her clothes, trying to ground herself, while Lochlan rubbed the back of his neck.
“Becket, you said you had news?” Nia asked.
“Did I?” he replied, his gaze flicking between them like he was enjoying a private joke.
Nia glanced at Lochlan, who looked equally confused, his brow furrowed as he stared back at Becket.
“About the annulment,” she pressed, a knot of curiosity and apprehension in her chest.
“Oh, that,” Becket said casually, his smile widening just enough to make her eyes narrow. “I’ve checked with all the other lawyers who are also witches—there aren’t too many of us in Stella Rune—and asked their opinion on the situation. Anonymously, of course.”
“And?” Lochlan pressed.
“And, so far, they think more or less the same thing I do.”
“Which is?” Nia asked, exasperated.
“That there’s nothing we can do, and you’re going to have to get The Sword to grant the annulment.”
“Becket,” Lochlan pinched the bridge of his nose and said, with forced calm, “we needed to come here for you to tell us this?”
“Oh, no. I just wanted to see how you two were doing.”
Nia glanced at Lochlan, whose face mirrored her own annoyance.
“Great. Thanks.” Nia repressed the urge to kick something. Specifically, something tall and Becket-shaped. “We’d figured that much out ourselves.”
Taking a steadying breath, Nia walked away before she did something to Becket she—or, more likely, Lochlan—might regret. As she headed toward the bathroom, Nia caught Lochlan’s low curse followed by Becket’s soft chuckle. Her jaw tightened.
Becket had officially made it onto her shit list.
Diary Entry: My eighteenth autumn
I can always tell when it’s him. His steps have a rhythm I know all too well. Steady. Sure. My own heart always stumbles at his approach.
Tonight I met him at the doorway. I wasn’t afraid of him. I was afraid of what might happen if I let him in.
Nearly a year has passed since he brought me here. I’ve been given space to heal, an entire wing of the manor. But this solitude has sharpened my curiosity. I’ve listened at doorways, lingered in shadowed halls.
Supernaturals have come to see him. Strange, powerful beings who speak in riddles or poetry. The fae queen, with a lilting voice I could listen to forever. A forest lord, more bark than skin. Even humans, bold and curious, who know magic lives in Stella Rune.
None of them believed him. Not about what he wanted. Not about what he imagined this town could become. A haven. A place where humans and supernaturals might live side by side without hiding or harm.
I didn’t believe it either, not at first. His bloodline is full of monsters. Usurpers who wanted to rule and keep humans beneath them.
He stood in front of me tonight, only moments ago, perfectly still.
“Are you well?”
I nodded.
“You look stronger,” he said, and there was warmth in his voice that matched the heat in my cheeks. When he added, “Good,” my knees nearly buckled.
“I’ve come to give you news. The Videt elders are gone.” I flinched as memories flashed, harsh and unwanted. He saw it in my face, because he added, “I considered blood. It would’ve been simpler. But I can’t build a better world from bones. So I found others. New leaders. Ones who understand that power is a responsibility, not a right.” He paused. “They’re not perfect. But I will keep watch.”
“And if they fail?” I asked.
His mouth curved. Not quite a smile. “Then I’ll find others. Again and again, until this place becomes something worth belonging to.”
