Page 99 of A Fragile Enchantment

“A brief recess, then,” the bishop said meekly, his prayer book clutched limply in front of him like a shield.

No one moved.

Jack stood and added, “Now.”

The guests scrambled to their feet and began shoving their way out of the cathedral with surprising swiftness. Niamh adjusted her tilted bonnet and wedged herself into the flow of the crowds, but a member of the Kings Guard seized her arm with bruising force. She gasped, and cold, sudden terror flooded in.

When the doors banged shut and the last of the guests cleared out, the cathedral looked like a carcass picked clean. The guardsman hoisted her up and all but dragged her to the apse. He deposited her at Jack’s feet with a rough shove. This time, Kit couldn’t catch her. She went down hard, her hands scraping the marble and her knees smarting from the impact. Her breathing echoed too loudly around her, but she kept her head bowed.

“What is the meaning of this?” the king thundered. “I do not know how things are run on this blasted island, but I did not consent to thisfarce.”

“Your Majesty,” Jack said placatingly, “this Machlishwoman is behind all this. I am certain now this is some sort of vengeance, and I will have her—”

“We do not want excuses from you.” Felipe cut his hand through the air emphatically, and Jack fell silent like a chided schoolboy. “Even if that is true, how can you be so incompetent? Look at her. How can you not manage even one sniveling girl?”

“Well,” Jack blustered, “I…”

“We have never seen such madness. Your subjects have gathered like an army to appeal to you. Your brother has clearly taken up with this common girl,” Felipe continued, with a disdainful look at the flowers that had sprung from Kit’s magic. “You assured us he did not inherit your father’s constitution. But now we see that madness is all relative. All of you must be as mad as loons if you believe we will accept such treatment!”

“My apologies, Your Majesty. I do not know what has come over everyone today, but I assure you it is most unusual.”

“Enough.” Felipe rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Whether or not you intended this, whether or not it is typical, you have insulted me today. Worse—and most unforgivably—you have insulted my daughter.”

At last, Rosa lifted her veil. Her dark eyes glinted with newfound purpose. “Father, please be reasonable. I am entirely unharmed.”

Felipe continued as if she had not spoken at all. “My Rosa is a good, obedient girl. She has never once spoken out of turn, and she is far too meek to say you’ve wounded her. But if she will not speak, I will. She is my only daughter, my crown jewel, and you do not deserve her.”

Rosa’s face twisted with anger and regret. It was the most emotion Niamh had ever seen from her, and yet, the fight drained out of her in an instant. How could she let her father go on believing she had no opinions or dreams of her own? How could she possibly let him speak for her, even now? The king loved her. If she found the courage to speak, surely he would listen.

“I understand you are unhappy,” said Jack, “but a bungled ceremony is no grounds to call off this engagement.”

“This is not a political matter. It is a personal one.” The king pulled off his glove. “And so, we will settle this like gentlemen.”

He threw it down between them. His eyes blazed golden, and the air within the cathedral surged. Static crackled through Niamh’s hair. The stained-glass windows trembled, and the petals whirled through the air as though lashed by a storm.

“Christopher Carmine, on my daughter’s honor, I challenge you to a duel.”

Kit paled. “What?”

Niamh clasped a hand to her mouth.What have I done?

She couldn’t kneel here and donothing.

“Absolutely not.” Jack stepped forward, throwing out an arm in front of Kit. His eyes glittered with cold, determined fire. “If you must duel someone, you will duelme. I made this arrangement, and as you said, I failed to manage it properly. I will deal with the consequences.”

Felipe ignored Jack entirely. His focus was trained on Kit.

“I accept,” Kit replied flatly. “Your terms?”

Panic, at last, erupted through Jack’s facade. “Sabers, surely. To first blood.”

“Magic. To the death,” the king said. “You will meet me in one hour in the field to the north of the city. Bring your second. I will be waiting.”

With that, he swept out of the cathedral.

No.Niamh nearly collapsed against the stairs of the altar. After all of this, she couldn’t let him die for a debt of honor. If anyone was to blame, it was her. It had always beenher. The petals scattered on the floor beneath her—and the joy they’d sparked within her—seemed a thousand miles away.

The bishop peered out from behind the altar. In a tremulous voice, he asked, “I take it there will be no wedding today, Your Highness?”