Page 57 of Fate’s Sweetest Curse (Mirrors of Fate #2)

Don’t Threaten the Messenger

Noble

I n anticipation of Hattie’s visit, Noble had bought more peaches.

He set the jar on the nightstand on Hattie’s side of his bed—the left side, which was closer to the hearth.

His hair was still wet from bathing, dripping onto the shoulders of his loose shirt—a shirt he knew Hattie liked on him, a little tight across his chest. He’d refrained from shaving his face for her, too, knowing her appreciation for the roughness of his stubble on her inner thighs.

Some nights, when Hattie was asleep in Noble’s arms, he imagined they were in Waldron.

Instead of city noise floating in from the window—drunken singing, clanging bells, yipping dogs, near-constant shouting—he imagined more pastoral sounds.

Bleating sheep. Wind sighing through maple leaves and pine boughs.

The early morning songs of robins and the trickle of the Wend.

Hattie might’ve escaped to Waldron, but he could see why she’d stayed.

The festivals, the tight-knit community, the care with which everyone looked after each other—Waldron’s indulgence in simple pleasures was the exact opposite of her upbringing in Marona.

As much as Noble had tried to refrain from being a part of the town while studying with Richold, he’d been powerless to its charm and jealous of the folks who were blessed enough to call it home .

Noble had always wanted to settle down in a place like that. One that was joyful, welcoming, and peaceful. One that had Hattie in it.

Noble raked his hair out of his face and surveyed his room.

He had hot water boiling in a kettle on the hook above the fire.

A spread of meats, cheeses, and bread waited on the desk, along with two cups for tea.

He’d already fluffed the pillows on the bed, lit a half dozen candles.

He’d taken his time bathing and tidying and readying the space for her arrival—but she still hadn’t come.

He sat on the edge of the bed and stared out the window, watching the pale wisps of clouds float across the deep indigo sky like fingers dragging across velvet, imagining all the ways he’d love her when she got here—trying his best not to worry.

She’d stayed late at the lab—later than she promised—but when Hattie had an idea, she followed it relentlessly.

Who was Noble to interrupt her brilliance?

In their youth, he’d learned to respect her intellectual momentum.

And seeing as she was studying for him , he ought to be grateful, not impatient.

Knuckles rapped softly on his door, and Noble sprung to his feet, relieved. He remembered their conversation about the blindfold, and an anticipatory smirk played across his lips as he opened the door, eager to draw her into his arms.

“Happy to see me?” Mariana asked, bumping Noble’s shoulder with her own as she barged into his room.

Noble closed the door and folded his arms across his chest, resisting the urge to punch Mariana in the nose for the ways she’d roughed-up Hattie. His tone was a blade brandished for violence. “What are you doing here?”

She plucked a piece of cheese from the plate he’d prepared and popped it into her mouth. “I know you were anticipating a bubbly blonde, but don’t look so disappointed to see me,” Mariana said. “I’m a delicate flower, sensitive to scorn.”

Noble scoffed—then stiffened. “Who do you think I was expecting?”

“Oh, please.” Mariana went to the kettle next, lifting it off the fire and pouring the hot water into one of the two waiting cups of chamomile leaves. “You two have been fucking for weeks.”

“I don’t know who or what you’re talking about.”

Mariana leaned back against the edge of the desk, crossed one ankle over the other, and blew on her tea. “Sure, you don’t.”

She wore armor tonight: a black breastplate and matching vambraces over a black short-sleeved tunic.

Black leather straps crisscrossed her hips and thighs over black trousers, with numerous blades sheathed in convenient locations.

The silver pommel of her sword—the weapon imbued with magic by her Order—jutted awkwardly out from her hip.

“I’ll admit, I was impressed by her ability to keep the bigger secret,” Mariana continued in a taunting drawl. “The illegitimate daughter of the queen’s dead sister? That’s a reveal.”

Noble was on Mariana in a heartbeat, the serrated bread knife under her jaw.

But she merely chuckled, glancing down at the dagger she had aimed at his oblique. She hadn’t even spilled her tea; it was still cradled in her other hand, held aloft and out of the way.

“Use your head, Noble,” Mariana tutted. “Don’t threaten the messenger. I’m doing you a favor.”

Noble lowered the bread knife an inch. “What’s going on?”

Mariana made a show of sipping her tea, then set it aside. “Move.”

His concern for Hattie barely outweighed his anger. He stepped back, allowing Mariana to push off the edge of the desk. She opened the drawer, pulled out one of his Hylder vials, and tossed it to him.

Questioningly, he held the glass aloft, the purple liquid sloshing.

“Just in case,” Mariana said .

“In case of what?”

“Your princess has been taken.”

Noble saw white , a flash of fear and rage so potent that he felt the abomination in his veins awaken.

He took a single step toward Mariana, not knowing where to direct his fury.

A growl rumbled up from his chest, rattled through his clenched teeth.

His temples ached, his fingertips pulsed, and suddenly he wasn’t sure he wanted to hold the monster back.

He wanted to set it loose on whoever the fuck had kidnapped Hattie and shred them to pieces.

“Drink your juice, Noble,” Mariana said. “Your lady won’t like you showing up turned.”

White dress in a forest; the urge to shred flesh. His nightmares always ended with the desire to tear her apart, and Noble—Noble the man, the Noble who loved her—would never let that happen.

With shaking hands, he removed the vial’s cork and drank.

“Breathe,” Mariana said.

“Fuck you,” Noble retorted, but he did. He breathed.

With the Hylder spreading through him, the monstrous rage subsided—leaving behind a wasteland of worry, all harsh wind and cold terror.

“Speak,” Noble demanded.

Using her dagger like a fork, Mariana popped another piece of cheese into her mouth, chewing slowly. “I’ll admit, it took me a while to put it all together.”

Her calm demeanor was an insult. Unable to bear the sight of it any longer, Noble turned away from the Valiant Knight and began shoving clothes and random provisions into his pack—anything that might prove useful.

The thought of Hattie in peril, harmed and frightened, taken …

he sucked a deep breath in through his mouth and forced it out through his nose, trying not to lose control. “Speak faster,” he ground out .

“I think I’m the only one who knows, so far,” Mariana mused. “Even the Mighty Knights haven’t solved the mystery, although”—a chuckle—“their swords tend to be sharper than their wits.”

I love you , Hattie had whispered against his shoulder just this morning. And now…

Noble shoved his arms through the straps of his pack. “Mariana, I know we both work for Phina, but I am not above—”

“I wouldn’t say I work for her,” Mariana interrupted, sipping her tea. “My allegiance is to my cause . Phina and I have a mutual interest, is all.”

Noble retrieved his dagger from under the bed and pointed it at her. “ Fates help you , Mariana,” he snarled, “if you do not tell me what happened to Hattie—”

“I’ll explain on the way. You ready?” Mariana pinched out the lit candles, then dumped the kettle on the fire in the hearth, extinguishing it with a cloud of hissing steam.

“On the way?” Noble slid his dagger into the holster at his belt. “You’re coming?”

Mariana retrieved the other two vials from the drawer and handed them to him. “Don’t need you losing your shit before we get there.”