Page 84

Chapter 77

Nora

Stay out of the woods, little one.

There you will find dangers you do not yet know how to face.

Nora’s breath misted in the predawn spring air at the edge of the forest. It had only taken her three hours to disarm the cuffs after they had forced her home. She left them on the carpet in the front hall for her grandmother to find. It didn’t matter anymore; she wasn’t going anywhere.

She hadn’t slept. She’d waited as the salve worked to heal the scrapes across her body from being dragged through the city.

Away from Oskar Wallen.

Away from her answers.

By my oath. By my oath.

Knights’ words. From the man who had killed a Holtzfall. Taunting her with some piece that she was missing still.

She was the first one to the edge of the woods that morning. Before her grandmother. Before even the cameras. Nora couldn’t see much past the first line of trees in the dark. That invisible barrier she had never been able to pass, which had haunted the periphery of her vision her whole life. Nora didn’t know what awaited her in the woods.

She was wearing a black leather-paneled skirt that was gathered at her waist on one side, showing off the close-fitting black leggings below. Voluminous silk cloth sleeves poked out from underneath a black jacket and black leather shoulder squares drew attention to her face.

Stay out of the woods, little one.

No. At long last, Nora was ready to face the woods.

The journalists arrived as the sky lightened. She didn’t glance their way as they filed into the pen set up for them a few feet from the starting line, even as their cameras began to click. They’d think she was here early for their benefit. She wasn’t. It turned out she didn’t really care what they thought.

“Waiting for dawn here at the border of the Old Woods, ladies and gentlemen,” a vox host started to say into his machine, filling the dead airwaves until the sun came up and they would be able to enter the woods. All over the city, people would be turning on their voxes to listen to the start of the trials. Waiting for news of who would be the next Holtzfall Heiress.

The light crawled across the ground. Once it touched the base of the trees, they would be able to enter the woods.

The rest of the family, along with most of the 1st circle, was gathering on the opposite side of the gardens from the journalists. They were perched on delicate garden furniture in crisp morning suits and bright dresses, being served glasses of champagne and platters of food.

Nora found herself looking for Theo. Looking for a nod that would let her know Alaric was safe. That the Grims had kept their bargain. But she couldn’t see any knights among the crowd.

Instead she spotted Aunt Grace lounging in a silk nightgown with a sleep mask pointedly on her head. Lotte had been sent away, and Aunt Grace wallowed in indifference.

Nora kept her feet rooted at the edge of the woods. There would be time for anger later.

Anger for how much she had imagined Aunt Grace cared for her, and been proven wrong. For how much of herself she still saw in Aunt Grace. And in Mercy Holtzfall. In the ugliness of both winning and losing.

Modesty arrived. She was bright-faced, as if she might actually have slept. That movie-star smile was splashed over her face as she waved magnanimously at the cameras snapping her way.

“Our second and final competitor, Modesty Holtzfall, ready to join her cousin at the starting line,” the vox host yammered on as Modesty came to take her place next to Nora.

Nora’s mother had stood here seventeen years ago. Next to her sister.

It should be Lotte here next to Nora. The way it had been Grace next to Verity.

“May the best heiress win!” Modesty dashed Nora a winning smile as she sidled up next to her, flashing the dual rings on her hand. Maybe it would be harder if it were Lotte here. Even allies became competitors in the trials.

Two rings, Nora suddenly realized. Modesty was only wearing two rings.

Temperance and bravery.

Two trials won by Modesty. The trial of loyalty lost by everyone. And Nora’s victory in the trial of selflessness.

But as of last night, there had been five trials.

The trial of honesty.

That left one ring unaccounted for.

Clemency stood in the crowd with the rest of the Holtzfalls. If she had won, she would be strutting right up here. It was possible that yet again they had all failed. That they had proven themselves to be the most dishonest family that ever lived.

Mercy Holtzfall emerged from the house, and a hush fell over the garden until she came to stand face-to-face with Nora and Modesty. She touched her fingers to the charm on her throat, sparking it with magic.

“A thousand years ago,” Mercy said, her voice reverberating around the garden and through the voxes across the city, “our great ancestor Honor Holtzfall sent his three heirs into the woods, granting each of them the chance to prove they were worthy of inheriting the great burden of being the bearer of the blessed ax. In the woods, each heir’s truest virtues were shown. Today, it is two of my granddaughters’ chance to show—”

A crisp whistle pierced suddenly through the dawn, slicing across Mercy Holtzfall’s words. A murmur ran through the crowd at the audacity of someone interrupting her, heads craning, hunting for the source.

They all saw her at once, blonde hair tangled and blazing in the beginnings of daylight as she moved across the garden.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the vox host said in a hurried hush, “Ottoline Holtzfall has suddenly appeared.” Lotte was wearing the same dress she’d had on four days ago when they’d parted ways in front of the dance hall. “As we all know, the newest Holtzfall retreated to the bliss of the countryside a few days ago, choosing to live a simpler, more virtuous life. And it seems she is wearing…as she approaches the starting line…could it be…? Yes, it is, ladies and gentlemen—”

“She has a ring.” Nora felt her heart leap in a confusing mix of joy and apprehension. But already she was beginning to move toward Lotte. Competitor or not, she was glad to see her. She walked on even as her grandmother barked at her to stop, her voice echoing around the whole garden.

Lotte and Nora embraced as they met, Nora pressing to the edges of her mind how glad she was to see Lotte, hoping her cousin could read it. I would have come for you , she promised in her mind. If I’d won, I would have saved you .

She pulled away, eyes roaming over her cousin.

There was something different about her. Not just the ring.

“Ottoline.” Mercy Holtzfall’s voice was the same bright artifice that it had been when she had first appeared on the day of the ceremony. “I see you won a trial in spite of your best efforts.”

“Turns out I’m the most honest Holtzfall,” Lotte replied. When Nora had first set eyes on Ottoline in this same garden, she’d resented her for looking like every Heiress who had ever preceded her. For looking more like Nora’s own mother than Nora ever could. But this, she realized, was the first moment that Lotte was carrying herself like a Holtzfall.

Lotte’s gaze met their grandmother’s unforgivingly. “I was going to give you the chance to try your hand at it, but I don’t think honesty runs in the family.” Lotte turned to Nora, and there was pain written on her face. “There’s something you need to know.” Lotte pressed a memorandum charm into Nora’s palm.

Nora looked down at the small mirror, a sudden sinking feeling of dread in her stomach.

The sky was rapidly lightening. They didn’t have much time. But whatever this was, it was important—Nora could feel the urgency radiating off Lotte. Whatever this was, it couldn’t wait.

Nora flicked the memorandum charm open, pressing her fingers to the mirror.

Her Holtzfall gift sparked to life as she played the memory.