Midnight Beauties (Grim Lovelies 2)

“Of course! Our deal is off. There won’t be a wedding. There won’t be a coronation. And . . . and . . .” She cocked her head as he continued to painstakingly shave his neck. “Why don’t you just whisper your chin smooth?”

He gave a wry half smile, sliding the blade over the last streak of shaving cream and then rinsing it in the sink. “I like the feel of real things, things that take work. Tricks and whispers don’t make me feel alive anymore.” He dried the blade and ran the towel over his neck. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said, “I should get dressed.”

He slid past her into the bedroom, bending stiffly because of his stone leg as he rummaged through drawers for a fresh shirt. Anouk, speechless, gritted her teeth and stomped after him, still holding the box. “Rennar, answer me.”

“What do you want me to say? Why on earth should our deal be off?”

Her cheeks burned. In a quiet voice she said, “You know why.”

“I haven’t the faintest idea.” He put on a crisp white shirt and began buttoning it up, hiding the scars and the ink.

Anouk felt tears pushing at her eyes. He looked at her in alarm. “Anouk, what’s the matter?”

He knew. Of course he knew, and it was cruel of him to pretend not to. He’d been in the courtyard. He’d seen how she’d fallen into the coals. He had heard her beg him for help.

And she hated that he’d answered.

She turned away sharply, hugging the box to her chest as though it were a shield. “I chose the wrong crux. You were there. If you hadn’t summoned the storm to put out the flames, I would have died. I’d be nothing now, not even ash.”

And that was it, wasn’t it? Now it was said. That nasty toad that kept creeping and crawling around in her chest was now croaking away for all the world to hear.

“I failed.” Her voice was urgent. She needed him to agree and stop pretending everything was okay. “It’s over, Rennar, why can’t you admit that? You and Mada Zola and Cricket and Luc were wrong. You might have created beasties to be powerful, but you must have messed up, because I’m useless now. I lost my magic. It’s gone forever, burned in the flames! I can’t turn my friends back. I can’t help the Goblins. I can’t stop the Coven of Oxford. And apparently I have no idea who I am.”

She was hugging the box to her chest so hard that it dug painfully into her ribs. She frowned grimly. Pain was what she deserved.

Rennar finished buttoning his shirt very calmly, infuriatingly calmly, as though she’d confessed to stealing a sip of his gin, not destroying the future of the near realms and maybe even the entire world.

“Say something, Rennar. The truth. It’s over.”

He came to her, smelling of citrus and vanilla and pine, and she was half afraid he would brush away her tears and half afraid he wouldn’t. But he only stroked a long white feather poking out of the box.

“The truth? You’re going to look beautiful in this dress.”

He started fastening a cravat around his neck and she stared at

him, open-mouthed, so angry that her tears dried up. He looked at himself in the mirror, combed his fingers through his hair, then went out into the hall, moving fast for a man with a leg of stone, leaving the door open behind him. She stared, and then, clutching the box, followed him. “Rennar! Wait!”

He didn’t slow as he adjusted his cufflinks. She had to jog to catch up with him, the box jostling in her arms. “There’s no point anymore, don’t you see? Why do you even want me? I’m not a witch and I can’t do magic at all now, not even spells to mend a button!”

“Believe it or not, not everyone marries out of a cold-blooded pursuit of power. Some people actually marry for love.”

She gave him a hard look. “We shared one kiss. And besides, Beau is my—”

“Pet?”

“Friend. I love him and he loves me. You want me only because I can move mountains for you, or at least you thought I could, before I disappointed everyone.” He abruptly turned into another hall. “Slow down! Where are you going, anyway?”

He didn’t slow down.

“Why the dress? Why go through with a marriage and coronation if it’s pointless? And don’t say anything about love.”

“Fine.” He sighed as if she’d ruined his game, but then flashed a sidelong look at her. “Though, for the record, you didn’t seem to mind that kiss. But yes, there is another reason to go through with the marriage. The Code of Courts.”

“Is this tied to the old laws you told me about? The Nochte . . . ah . . .”

“The Nochte Pax.” A clock on the wall chimed, and he instinctively spun and went back the way they came—?he knew the changing floor plans by heart—?and went down another hall. “The Code of Courts was established twelve hundred years ago, when the Royal families of the near realms warred with one another.” He spoke mechanically, as though reciting ancient history. “A peace alliance was formed, and it included a pledge to come to one another’s defense if any of the other Courts were attacked. And the Court of Isles is under attack now. The problem is, with the Coven’s spell keeping us out of London, I can’t prove it.”

They were walking through the artifact hallway, the various objects from the Pretty World under glass, everything from crystal scepters to humble pairs of scissors, things that had been imbued with magic to influence history.