These Hollow Vows (These Hollow Vows 1)

You could never be the Seelie queen.

And there’s the evidence of just how despicable I am. He thinks he wants me forever, and part of me is considering it even as I’m betraying him. I’m the thief who’s stealing from the kingdom he’d have me rule by his side. And then there are these things I feel for Finn—the way my power surges when he’s close, the attraction I don’t want but can’t deny. Would Sebastian want me if he knew any of that? Even if he did, doesn’t that prove I don’t deserve him?

I’m silent too long, and Sebastian closes his eyes. The hurt that flashes across his face is a punch to the solar plexus. “Right,” he whispers. “Well, at least now you know where I stand.” He turns on his heel and heads out the door.

“Bash,” I call, following. He stops, keeping his back to me. I don’t trust myself to look at his face, so I speak to his broad shoulders instead of asking him to turn around. “I never wanted to marry a prince.” I want to press my palm between his shoulder blades, to feel the reassurance of his strength, his heat. Or maybe wrap my arms around him, press my front to his back and rest my palm on his chest to feel the reassuring beat of his heart. I do neither. “But I would have married Sebastian, the mage’s apprentice, in a heartbeat.”

He hangs his head. “You can’t have one without the other, Brie.”

“Ah,” I say softly. “But the prince is growing on me.”

When he turns, the hope in his eyes cuts me deep, and I don’t know what I hate more: that I’m manipulating him or that what I said is true.

Chapter Nineteen

AFTER MY HEART-TO-HEART WITH SEBASTIAN this afternoon, urgency and guilt weigh heavily on me as I pull out the mirror to begin my search for the Grimoricon. If Sebastian must choose a bride by the new moon, I have only a few weeks to find the second and third relics for Mordeus and get Jas back.

My eyes flick to the locked door for the tenth time before I lift the mirror and stare at my reflection. “Show me the Grimoricon,” I say, careful not to speak too loudly.

The mirror shows me a grand, brightly lit library unlike any I’ve seen before. It’s massive, with a domed stained-glass ceiling and row upon row of books fanning out from a dais in the center of the room. There, on that dais, a pedestal holds a thick leather-bound book.

When the image fades, I ask again, and it shows me the same thing.

Why is the queen hiding the sacred book in a library? If it were in the stacks, I might think this was a case of hiding the book in plain sight, but it’s right there, on display, the centerpiece of the room.

I tuck the mirror away and ring the bell by my door to call for my maids. I’ve searched every inch of this palace and have never seen a room like the one I saw in the mirror. Maybe it’s hidden, or maybe the library lies within the queen’s well-guarded sunroom. It would make sense for such a valuable item, but it makes this all the more complicated for me.

“Lady Abriella,” Emmaline says, curtsying as she steps into the room. “What can we do for you tonight?”

I never call for them, so the surprise on her face is expected.

“The prince told me there are some special festivities tonight.”

“Yes, milady. Tonight we celebrate Litha.”

“I would like to go. Would you help me dress?”

Emmaline blinks in confusion. I can’t blame her. In my two and a half weeks here, I’ve never cared about the seemingly endless dances happening around the castle. I go only when I’m required, and I’m usually so full of excuses that the twins have stopped trying to convince me otherwise. “Of course. I’m so sorry. We should have asked.”

I wave off her apology. “I only decided moments ago.” She beams, and I force myself to return her smile. “I suddenly feel like dancing.”

I wasted time with the mirror, but I won’t make the same mistake again. I can’t afford to. I will lock my guilt away tight and get whatever information I can out of Sebastian. And if he hates me forever once he learns how I used him . . . well, if that’s the price of saving Jas, it’s one I’m willing to pay.

* * *

By the time my maids dress me in a bell-sleeved gown of lightest purple and pin my hair into ringlets atop my head, the music and revelry are so loud, I can easily follow the noise to the celebration on the palace lawn.

I exit the palace and stop at the top of the stairs, awestruck by the sight below.