Page 94 of The Naughty List Agreement

“You really go hard for magic, don’t you?” she teased.

“It’s relevant to all life.” He hesitated. If she was going to believe him when he told her who he really was, she had to understand the power of Gold Lumen. “It’s what happens when belief becomes real. That moment when someone changes and stops running from who they are. That creates Gold Lumen.”

He took a deep breath.

“The knot you’re standing in front of is yours.”

“That’s me?” she asked, her finger hesitating over the binding knot.

“Yes, that’s you. It was tangled and knotted and black, but your true colors are coming through now. The Gold Lumen you brought to the world has strengthened the thread. Your life is now a story instead of a tangle.

“Why was my knot black?”

“The counter to Gold Lumen is Black Lumen. That’s what Pete controls. It can sustain the Yearweave as well by helping those on the Naughty List to get off it. The difference is, Black Lumen is powered by obligation—giving a gift because it’s expected instead of out of wanting to see joy on someone’s face.”

“Nick, I don’t understand any of this. It feels like you’re trying to tell me something and I’m not getting it.”

It wasn’t her; it was him. Struggling with his big reveal. To be fair, this was the first time he’d had to tell anyone that he was Santa Claus. And it was Cora. The woman who’d become his North Star.

“There’s more I need to explain. It’s going to make Gold Lumen and the Yearweave seem real.”

She pursed her lips and made a face. He felt her slipping further from him the longer it took him to get his confession out but there was no way to hurry this. Everything hung on this moment. He’d gotten the agreement of the council for an engagement but they weren’t going to give him another five years to get married. He had to convince Cora of who he was and ask her to marry him. “Tell me.”

“I got your letter.”

Her brow furrowed as she gently shook her head. “What letter? I didn’t send you a letter.”

“Yes, you did. You wrote it yesterday,” he informed her. He’d been shocked when it had arrived. Martha had brought it in when it had arrived on her desk from the mail department. All letters to Santa arrived in Hearthvale, no matter what format they arrived in—handwritten and sent through the post, emails, video notes, texts. They were all received and processed. Each name matched carefully to one on the lists both Nice and Naughty. A well-worded letter could help move someone off the Naughty List. “I thought you didn’t believe in me.”

“Nick, seriously, the only letter I wrote was one to Santa Claus. I dropped it at the mailbox in the toy village. There’s no way you could have received that one.”

“There is,” he said, sweating through his shirt. Shrugging out of his jacket, he tossed it across the room toward the guest chair in front of his desk. “I’m Santa Claus.”

The words hung in the air. She squinted at him then gave him a disgusted look.

“What’s wrong with you, Nick? If you don’t love me, just say so.”

Shock reverberated through her. Of all the ways she’d seen this evening going, this wasn’t it. This place did feel like it held some kind of magic, she’d give him that, but claiming to be Santa? Hardly.

“Let’s sit down.”

What she really wanted to do was bolt from this place back to the safety of her own home. He could go back to whatever it was he really did and her back to her life. Back to working all the time and her quiet, safe home where she kept to herself.

Except she couldn’t put herself back in the box. “Do you mean you’re like Santa Claus? I know you’re a toymaker…”

“I read your letter. The one you wrote yesterday, in which you talked about your wishes for the year and asked⁠—”

Heat burned her cheeks. “Don’t say it. You can’t be Santa. You don’t have white hair or a belly. Also elves … where are the elves?”

He led her to two chairs in front of the large fireplace and waved his hand toward the waiting logs stacked there. A fire immediately roared to life. Her mouth fell open.

“The first Nicholas was a real person who lived in the third century CE in what is now modern-day Turkey. His relics are enshrined in Bari, Italy which is how he became known as Nicholas Bari, and he is my ancestor.”

Cora’s eyes kept moving between him, the Yearweave, and the fire.

“He was known for his generosity toward children and the poor, and became associated with secret gift-giving, starting during the cold winter months when resources were scarce. He often left handcrafted toys for children who craved some joy after the darkness of winter, but also hand-carved figures and painted wooden animals were gifted to everyone.”

Cora was silent, waiting for him to finish explaining.