“This.” He drew her toward him and, before she could take another breath, pressed his lips to hers. Her pulse leaped to life. She felt like she was in the sky on downy wings, snow falling on her while she watched the scene happening below. Rennar’s lips were soft. Beau stood just paces away. Would Rennar do something crass to humiliate him? Paw her bodice? Kiss her like he had in the dessert pantry?

But almost as soon as his lips had touched hers, they were gone. A quick, chaste kiss. He released her hands.

She blinked, not sure what to do with her hands. “You . . . you promised no more stolen kisses.”

“That wasn’t a kiss. That was ceremony. Trust me, if I kiss you, you’ll know it.”

She flushed and glanced at Beau to make certain he hadn’t overheard. “So . . . is it finished? We’re married?”

“Not quite.”

He crooked a finger at Duke Karolinge, who blew his whistle for Saint. The bird took wing from a rosebush and landed on the Duke’s shoulder. In his beak he held an achingly beautiful crown, as fragile as gold dust held together with spider silk. Rennar gently placed it on her head.

“Princess of the Haute,” he whispered. “Ruler of the Parisian Court.”

The crown was so light that she had to reach up to make sure it was real. Duke Karolinge said a few final words in the Selentium Vox, but her

head was spinning and she couldn’t hear them. She hadn’t expected to feel anything. The marriage was a sham. But a maid who became a princess—?it meant something.

Rennar took her hand once more. The rooftop garden was a sea of pink and crimson and blush. The Court of the Woods delegation approached and knelt at her feet. She barely had the sense to lift her grass-stained hem for them to kiss her toes. She almost laughed deliriously. It wasn’t long ago that Mada Vittora had cut off her toes to make her a better plaything with smaller feet to play dress up. Now kings and queens were on their knees to kiss those toes.

“Princess Anouk,” the Woods Queen said. “We welcome you to the Haute. We swear our fealty to you.”

Rennar prodded her, and she remembered what she’d been instructed to say. She fought with the billows of her skirt to kneel down and kiss her toes in return. “And I to you.”

One by one, the Royal delegations approached, knelt, and swore fealty in exchange for her own. They all viewed her with cold glares. None of them were pleased about this marriage, except perhaps Prince Aleksi of the Lunar Court, who was the only one to give Anouk a wink.

By the time the last of the Royals had sworn fealty, Anouk felt dead on her feet. She had that wobbly sensation that time had either frozen or sped up. Several Goblins were glancing at their pocket watches, holding their forks, eager for the feast.

“With all of you as witnesses,” Rennar said, clutching Anouk’s hand, “it is our right to invoke the Nochte Pax. A wedding gift that you are bound to honor. Our wish is to activate the Code of Courts, which states that if any one of us is under attack by an outside force, the others must come to that party’s aid. Few of you were willing to admit that the Court of Isles was under attack, even after you witnessed the Coven of Oxford possess King Kaspar. But now each of you is bound. Tonight, we will meet in the spell library and negotiate how to protect our borders. Until this is done, none of you may leave Castle Ides.”

The members of the Barren Court looked daggers at Rennar. Anouk worried suddenly that Rennar might not know what he was doing. Forcing the others to cooperate might lead to even more enemies.

He touched fresh champagne-colored powder to his lips and whispered a spell. The dome over the rooftop garden burst like a soap bubble. Soft snow began to fall over the garden. Thick flakes landed on her eyelashes. It dusted the roses and the Royals, who didn’t bother to brush the snow off their shoulders. Goose bumps sprang up over her bare arms. She hugged her shoulders and looked over the crowd to catch Beau’s eye. Snowflakes dusted his hair. He looked as handsome as everything else in the garden, but there was an uneasiness in his eyes that matched her own.

Tension was thick in Paris.

Disgruntled Royal Courts were Rennar’s problem now. They had their own problems. There would be no feast for them. No venison or red velvet cake. (Well, maybe a bite.) No rosé wines or champagne. No first dance beneath the stars while the famous American contest winner sang a ballad. No toasts to love and good fortune. The party would happen, of course—?every Goblin was already hopping from one foot to another—?but Anouk wouldn’t be there.

The snow fell harder.

She’d be somewhere dark. Somewhere cold. Somewhere she had run from her whole life, somewhere she’d promised herself she’d never return.

Beau held open an umbrella for her against the snow. He didn’t need to remind her of what came next: beastie spells, the Dark Thing, tunnels into an unfamiliar city, a coven they didn’t know how to defeat. For now, he needed only to hold the umbrella over their heads. She rested her cheek against his chest and felt the beating of his heart match her own.

Chapter 27

As soon as they could, Anouk, Beau, Cricket, and the rest of their troop stole away from the rooftop garden. The sounds of the feasting were audible throughout Castle Ides. The other Royal Courts might resent the Nochte Pax, but they were still Royals, and Royals never turned down an opportunity to dress well, eat well, and flaunt their cruel beauty in front of one another.

“This way,” Cricket said, leading them through the maze of hallways. They all had a slightly giddy air, or perhaps it was delirium. There was a point at which reality was so unbelievable that the most rational thing to do was to give in. Anouk couldn’t quite believe that she was truly a princess, married to Prince Rennar—?let alone that the two of them weren’t trying to kill each other! And she couldn’t believe that she’d made an absurd promise to fight the witches of Oxford when she couldn’t even cast a simple whisper. She was no closer to knowing what her crux was now than she’d ever been. It was madness. But then again, what in her short life hadn’t been?

Cricket threw open the door to the billiard room and they tumbled in, full of a manic kind of recklessness. Viggo went straight to the bar cart to make himself a drink. Luc joined him. Hunter Black paced before the empty fireplace with tight, silent steps, his fingers toying with the glass buttons of his shirt. Petra shook the snow from her hair and, with a whisper, enchanted a fire in the hearth to warm her hands.

Anouk pulled the crown from her head, though it tangled in her hair and she had to tug it free with a squeak. She tossed it onto the coffee table. They all stared at it. Hunter Black stopped pacing.

“I never thought I’d see it,” Luc said quietly. “A beastie become a Royal.”

“And here I was, proud just to have my own apartment,” Cricket said.

Tags: Megan Shepherd Grim Lovelies Fantasy
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