“I’ve been hoping it would hold through the winter,” I admit—then worry he’s going to offer magic to fix it somehow, and I won’t know what to do.
“Almost,” he says encouragingly. “Do you have a ladder? I can lift it back into place.”
I stare at him.
“Or you can,” he says. “If you’d rather.”
His eyes are bright and guileless. I don’t know if I should be afraid of him or grateful to him or something else entirely.
But Lord Tycho is looking at me expectantly, and I have no idea how to chase him out of here when he’s being so … soharmless. My heart keeps pounding against my ribs, but I drag the ladder out of the barn, set it against the wall, and—despite his offer—I begin to climb.
I see what he means about the track: it’s weathered and worn and the wheel has come a bit loose. But when he lifts from the bottom, I try to maneuver it back into place.
While I’m huffing and puffing and trying to shift the wood, I hear the back door of the bakery creak open. “Cally-cal!” Nora calls. “I think Lord Tycho is nearby. I know we’re supposed to hate magic, but hedidheal Jax. Don’t you think he’s handsome? I think I might fancy him. If he didn’t have magic, I thinkyouwould fancy—”
“Nora!” I shout. My cheeks are on fire, and I don’t dare look down at Lord Tycho. If anyone could turn my fear of magic into exasperated mortification, it would be my little sister. “I’m fixing the barn door.”
“I saw his horse tethered out front! I fed her one of the apples for the tarts.” She must be crossing the barnyard. In an instant, she’ll see him. That’s a good thing because if she keeps going, I’ll fall off this ladder. “I think he’s very kind. For a lord. Don’t you think he’s very— Oh, hello, Lord Tycho!”
“Hello, Nora,” he says genially. “I’m certain Mercy offers her thanks for the apple.” He’s a little bit breathless, straining with the weight of the door. It’s probably better that he’s down there and I’m up here. I fight to get it fully on the track.
“Your horse’s name is Mercy?” I hear her chirp. “She’s very gentle.”
“She can be,” he says.
“Clouds above, Nora,” I snap. “Leave the poor man al—ouch!” The door slings back onto the track, but my fingers pinch under the metal before I can get them out of the way. Blood appears on my fingertips, and I shake my hand as if that’ll get rid of the sting.
“Cally-cal!” shouts Nora.
“I’m fine,” I say. “Just foolish.” I give the door a shove, and it slides perfectly now. My fingers leave bloody spots on the wood.
When I climb back down, Nora sees the spots of blood on myfingers and blinks wide eyes up at Lord Tycho. “Will you do the magic again, my lord?” Her smile is bright. “Please?”
That brisk wind tears through the barnyard again. “Nora,” I hiss. “You can’t ask—”
“I don’t mind.” Lord Tycho puts out a hand.
I jerk back without meaning to, and he frowns.
I swipe the blood on my skirts and take a step back. “It’s … it’s not bad enough for all that.”
He studies me for a long moment, then nods and lowers his hand. “As you say.”
I can’t read his expression, and I’m worried I’ve offended him. My heart keeps up its brisk pace, but hedidjust help me fix the barn door. He did heal Jax’s hand. I’m the one who drew a knife. Jax is the one who hit him.
It feels wrong to invite magic into my home, but Lord Tycho isn’t a monster. He’s not a winged creature out of a storybook.
He’s not even the man who set the palace ablaze and killed my father.
I swallow. “I know it’s early for meat pies, but I have the dough ready for apple tarts.” I hesitate. “If you have time today, my lord.”
“I do,” he says, but now there’s an odd silence between us.
I have to turn away. “Well,” I say. “Come along.”
The bakery is warm from the fire, and probably for the first time in mylife, I’m glad for Nora’s chattering, because it spares me the need to say anything at all. I trim dough and lay apples and ignore my stinging fingers—all while she rambles about nothing for twenty straight minutes and the bakery swells with the scent of cinnamon and sugar.
“A woman was through two days ago,” says Nora, “and she said the queen is expecting another baby. Is that true?”
