I took a second step, and the bell sang out. Bluebeard spun, releasing the princess, and stalked toward me.
In Northpeak, we lost a man almost every year to cougar attacks. I couldn’t help but think – as he took that predatory step toward me – that perhaps the men who died were so fascinated by the cougar that they couldn’t run or even scream. I knew I was.
He tilted his head, his eyes lighting with delight.
“What a singular golden bell you bear, maiden. But your manners are very poor. Will you not greet a visitor to your King’s court?”
My eyes met his. His were blue – of course – and so light they were almost white. My stomach flipped as I realized they were the eyes of a cat, not a human, with black slashes for pupils. They pierced into my own and I could hardly look away.
“Will you not speak and bid us welcome?” He bit his full lower lip after he said that, his cat’s eyes dancing as if he were laughing at a joke I hadn’t heard.
It seemed suddenly as if he were balancing along a high branch. A bare movement on either side and he would fall to his death, and only my greeting might prevent that. People in such a dire state had a tendency to do wild things.
He took a step backward and grabbed the princess by the hair, jerking her head back and exposing her throat.
“Or perhaps we’ll wait and see what you say when we’re done with this pretty trinket.”
My heart leapt into my chest, racing so hard that my breath was coming in ragged gasps. All my fault. If he killed her, it would be on my head, and all because I disregarded a silly princess and her silly friends.
The only sensible thing to do was to try to calm him down.
“I greet you, foreign Lord, and wish you well on this winter night.”
My voice as clear as a crystal bell. Where had that voice been when I met my betrothed?
As if my words had broken a spell, Bluebeard dropped Princess Chasida. She fell to the ground in a heap, sobbing loudly. Around me, there was a sigh that sounded almost like regret or guilt. My eyes narrowed. Something was going on that I knew nothing about.
Bluebeard smiled – a wolfish, wicked smile.
I felt something tighten in my chest that I couldn’t identify. My hand reached up to clutch it, but I’d barely managed a gasp of my own before I caught the eye of my father. His mouth was hanging open in an agonized expression. He took one stumbling step forward and suddenly Rolgrin was there beside him, supporting his arm and whispering urgently in his ear.
“The Law of Greeting,” Bluebeard said, his grin widening so now he reminded me of a fox.
His eyes seemed to be fixed on me still, which made no sense. What was the Law of Greeting?
Though they had started breathing and murmuring again, the court was still. But this time it was not the frozen stillness of fear, it was the waiting stillness of anticipation. Fear crept up my spine like a slow spider.
To my shock, the Lord of the Fallowplains moved forward, a determined, purposeful look on his face.
“You may not take her, Wittenbrand,” he declared. His awkwardness had been shed, and in this one moment he looked like a hero of legend rather than a backwoods breeder of horses who needed an heir.
I bit my lip and tasted blood.
Bluebeard’s grin turned to fury.
“By the Law of Greeting you know I may take whatever greets me upon my arrival. It is the long-standing agreement between the Court of Pensmoore and the Wittenbrand.”
My heart stuttered painfully.
“But you haven’t been here in generations,” the King said, finally speaking.
He had positioned himself before Princess Chasida, shielding her with his own rather substantial body. As if she were still in some kind of danger. Maybe she was. No one had bothered to teach me about the Law of Greeting. Maybe there were more laws I did not know. I was finding it just a little hard to breathe.
“Be glad I have not,” Bluebeard said softly, his low voice rumbling like the thunder of a coming storm. “I could have visited you many times over the years and yet I have reserved this moment for a special need. I have come for a bride.”
A bride?
“The girl is promised to me,” Lord Fallowplains – Leonid – said, striding through the crowd toward Bluebeard.
My eyes widened and my hand reached up to clutch my chest over my heart. I had not expected so much loyalty from a man who had only just met me. My father had chosen very well indeed.
So why was I still finding it so hard to take a breath?
Bluebeard smirked. “Well, now the promise is broken by the Law of Greeting. Be on your way, hale mortal.”
“I will not,” Leonid said, swallowing nervously. “It is my life for hers. You will not take her.”
He was within reach of Bluebeard now, arms crossed over his chest, squaring his stance, his round chin thrust forward. I had thought he was a large man when I met him, but he seemed small in front of Bluebeard, even though he had four inches at least on the Wittenbrand.
Bluebeard sighed and made an expression of distaste. “What is this? A duel? Over a woman not yet your wife? How horribly last century. I thought we’d moved past that. Haven’t we moved past that, Sparrow?”
One of the figures with him snickered unkindly.
Leonid cleared his throat. “I am offering a duel, yes.”
“No,” I said quickly. “You don’t need to do this for me, Leonid.”
He made a gesture to quiet me, and Bluebeard snarled.
“Do not silence my betrothed, mortal.”
His hand shot out, grabbing Leonid by the neck and shook him so quickly that I hardly realized what was happening.
Leonid’s large head snapped back and then forward like a doll in the mouth of a very large dog.
Princess Chasida screamed so loudly that I heard nothing else and her guards finally came to their senses, rushing forward to surround the royal family.
Bluebeard flung Leonid’s limp body aside and I struggled to see him. Was Leonid dead or merely unconscious? How had Bluebeard done that with just one hand? To a man larger than he was?
My hands flew up over my mouth and the little golden bell dropped to the floor, rolling across the shining marble to Bluebeard’s feet.
Bluebeard snatched the bell up, bouncing it on his palm like a toy. It rang every time it struck his palm again. Like a death bell signaling to the town that someone was gone.
Around me, people were shuffling backward, making the gap around me wider and wider.
I looked to my own father and he looked back at me, sadness and resignation in his face. Resignation. That was what hit me so hard. What was he going to do? Was he going to try to step up and fight, too?
I shook my head at him, but he took a determined step forward.
I glanced at Leonid. He was very still on the ground. I wasn’t certain if he was dead – but he might be. I glanced back at my father pushing through the crowd, his face drained of blood. If I didn’t do something fast, that would be him, too.
“I will be your bride,” I said. The words had tumbled out of me so quickly that everyone seemed to freeze, listening. “I will be your bride and go from here with you. Only let me say goodbye to my family, and gather my things, and let there be a proper wedding before I leave these lands with you.”
Because if I was going to lose everything, I should at least be sure we were properly married and I was not to be a slave or a concubine.
“Done.” Was that sorrow I saw in Bluebeard’s eyes as they met mine? It must have been a shadow because his eyes immediately shifted to trickery as he turned to the King. “Go find whatever holy man you use and bring him here. There will be a wedding before the hour is gone.” He turned to his own men. “Sparrow, Grosbeak, gather her things and take them to our mounts. When the ceremony is completed, we ride.”
