“Did Lydia tell you?” he asks.
“Does it matter?”
He sucks in a breath through his nose. “No, I suppose it doesn’t. But it is a rather long story, so I suppose you ought to settle in.”
Bram’s voice goes a shade softer, and for the first time since we were married, he sounds like the boy he pretended to be back atKensington Palace, the one who walked me into a sunlit stable and spoke of magic.
“My mother left the door between our worlds open for the royal family when she fled this place and became queen of England, you know about that.”
“I do,” I answer quietly.
“Yes, well, I went back and forth rather frequently, in secret, before I puzzled out the marriage element of her original bargain and permanently joined her court. I’d visit England the way lords check on a seldom-used country home. It satisfied some sort of nostalgia, and I wanted to see how things were getting on without me. I always planned on taking the reins from my mother one day, and a good king keeps tabs on things.”
“I understand.”
“But it was lonely, you see. I was stuck wandering the woods like some sort of vagrant, or observing the palace through the bars of the gates like nothing better than a commoner.”
“That sounds difficult.”Placate. Always placate with Bram.
“Thank you. It was agonizing.”
“I assume it was on one of these visits you found the necklace?”
He cocks his head slightly. “Always so impatient, Lady Ivy.”
I’m not Lady Ivy anymore, but I don’t correct him.
“Visiting England grew tiresome as time went on. Humans used to have a respect for my kind. We were near gods. They’d flock to us, begging for bargains and boons and favors. They delighted in our music, our revels. My mother severed that connection and as generations passed, she also removed all evidence of us from libraries and historical records. People forgot. I was once regarded withawe and reverence, but eventually, no one even lifted their gaze when I walked into a tavern.”
He takes a deep breath, lost in memory. “My mother’s latest husband’s family had a country estate not far from Oakham. I liked the feeling of the woods. The trees were nearly as old as I was, and the birdsong quieted as I strolled among them. It was there that I first found the offering on the edge of the forest. It had been so long since someone had left a gift for me, it felt like being doused with a bucket of cold water.”
“Unpleasant?”
“No,” he corrects me gently. “It made me feelalive—andwhat a feeling it was after being numb for so long. Time isn’t always a gift, you must understand. After a while, it becomes a curse.”
I can picture those woods that he describes so clearly. Our superstitious old cook refused to go in them at all.
“I was desperate to see who made the offering. I watched all day from the tree line. It was twilight when I first saw you. You came bounding out of the kitchen, just a child, near feral in your white dress and tangled hair. I knew the necklaces were your idea by the way you ran across the damp lawn to check on them before being sent to bed by your governess. Lydia appeared moments after you did, but she came through the kitchen door reluctantly and followed you like a beleaguered nursemaid.Ivy, she called after you. And once I knew your name, I took your necklace.”
I can scarcely breathe, horror dawning on me that he’s been watching me for so long. I thought I collided with Bram by accident—destructive, but decidedly a matter of bad luck. To know that by offering my necklace, I called him to me is too much to bear. I invited the monster into my life, held the door wide open and beckoned himin. Lydia didn’t want to leave our necklaces on those tree roots. In chasing a childhood fantasy, I unwittingly doomed us both.
“I thought perhaps you saw me through the trees,” Bram continues. “You paused and scanned the woods. I prayed you’d see me. But I didn’t dare reach out. You were only a child, and I didn’t wish to scare you. I watched your family for the rest of the day. You wailed as your mother ordered your cook to burn your book of faeries, and I resolved to track down another copy for you.”
Faeries of the British Isles.I thought it was so romantic when he gifted it to me during our courtship, but now the thought is stomach-turning.
“I knew it wasn’t yet time for me to make my reappearance at court, but I resolved to find you once I did.”
“Why?” I ask, scarcely above a whisper. “It was only a necklace. A child’s folly.”
“No.” Bram shakes his head where it rests against the pillow. “It was more than that. You were the first human in centuries to make me an offering. Yourespected me. You knew I was special.”
“I was playing in the garden with my sister.”
“It was more than that. You know it was,” he snaps. His voice is heated.Placate. I need to placate him.
“Of course it was, darling,” I soothe. I don’t ask him to continue, but after a moment, he does anyway.
“I kept tabs on you through your upbringing. I’d check in every few years, peer through a window or from across a garden to make sure you were doing well. When I finally conceived of the plan to unseat my mother, I timed my arrival at court to coincide with your coming-of-age. I engineered it so that the season I would announce my intentions to find a wife would be the same yearyou turned eighteen. I was delighted when Lydia first arrived at the castle here, you know. From across the room, I thought she wasyou. You always did look so alike. Imagine my disappointment when I realized I’d have to make do with the other sister. But Lydia is special, too, in her own way, and in time I grew fond of her. I figured I could marry her here and not have to deal with all the tedious business of a royal wedding back in England. I was disappointed when my marriage to her didn’t break my mother’s bargains and end her rule, but some part of me was relieved, too. It was always meant to be you, Ivy. I’ve known it from the first moment I saw you.”
