The Bride Tournament (Hexed Hearts Book 1)(34)

“The less people who know about their miraculous turnaround, the better.”

“Why?” Pierce tapped his booted heel.

Gerard kept an eye on Ellie. She was nearly crab-walking across the marble, hiding behind ferns, people, and chairs. “Because, little brother, the women, your friend—” Gerard made air quotes.

Pierce punched him. Hard.

“—required old magic to be healed. Old magic is rare, and almost outlawed here by the upper classes due to its destructive side. Old magic is the only remedy for a hex. We need to find out who cursed the women, before others share the same fate. I wish we’d been able to give her a clean bill of health but the hex runs deep.”

“I know, I read the old texts.” Pierce sighed.

“Really?” Gerard turned to his brother. “I hated those and I had to read them. You didn’t have to.”

“Sure, I won’t be king—so long as you don’t die before producing an heir—but I’d still like to be useful. I’m not an idiot, brother.”

“I know, Pierce.” He gripped his brother’s arm.

“The last time you saw me, I was nothing more than a foolish little prince, prancing about the castle like I owned the world. I thought because I wasn’t next in line for the throne, I didn’t have to care about the kingdom, the people. Not like you have to.” Pierce leaned against the ivory granite wall. “I saw how much you hated the responsibility, how much you wanted to run away though you never would. Part of me hoped you never came back after going abroad.”

“What?” Gerard frowned. “I had to come back.”

“Exactly, brother, you had to come back. You don’t want to be king any more than I do. We both see how it stresses and ages Father. Yet you always do the right thing. And it doesn’t matter if you don’t want the crown. You’ll take it because you think you have to.”

“True…” Gerard fidgeted. His brother laid out his faults so easily. He tried hard to seek the throne, pretending to want it.

“I hoped…” Pierce dug his booted toe into the marble, like a young boy admitting a secret. “I hoped that I could act as your advisor. We used to have them, centuries ago when old magic was practiced. Together, we could split the tasks of king.”

Gerard pondered the idea. It was true that their ancestors had appointed advisors—usually members of the royal family—to act as an ear to the king. Listen in on country matters, hold forums, etc. It ensured that the king could be in two places at once and run the kingdom without so much paperwork.

“I remember reading about the position in school. A few of the kingdoms I visited had several advisors.” Gerard looked at his brother, appreciating the man he’d become. “I like it.”

Pierce beamed. “You’d keep the real power.”

Gerard smiled. “We’ll draw something up with Father and Mother, get their observations on your brilliant idea. I like it. I think I need it.”

Pierce visibly fought a grin. The curtain behind Gerard rustled and a soft voice filled the great hall’s wing.

“Fruitcake.”

“Ellie?” He spun and stalked toward the sage curtain. A body, petite and tangled, struggled against the textured fibers.

“Gerard?”

He nodded to Pierce who sauntered over. Together, they tugged a waspish Ellie free. She shoved her cloak from her hair and pushed her mask up to her forehead. “Thanks, my cloak snagged in the fabric.”

He took in the sight of her pinkened cheeks and rapid pulse. She ran a hand down her neck. His fingers twitched to mimic the movement.

“I don’t believe we’ve met.” Pierce smiled, debonair. He held out a palm. “I’m Pierce, Gerard’s younger—handsomer—brother.”

Ellie smiled.

Gerard could have committed fratricide.

“Delighted, and so true.” Ellie slipped her hand into Pierce’s grasp. A tinge of electricity flared blue. “Oh! Sorry, must have been a zing left over from my battle with the curtain.”

“Not to worry.” Pierce bent and kissed the back of her hand.

I will kill him. Forget the advisor crap.

She giggled, like one of the ladies still chattering in the great hall.

He pinched his forehead. “Pierce. Cease touching her.”

Pierce scoffed but released Ellie. Her blurry eyes, flushing skin, and panting breath furthered Gerard’s sudden irritation.

He reached for Ellie’s hand, determined to greet her like the gentleman he was.

“AHHHHHH!”

“What in the—” Gerard shoved Ellie behind him.

Pierce yanked aside the curtain. Chaos reigned in the great hall.

Dumbstruck, he watched frightened women—and men—peal across the floor in a maddened dash for the exits. Tables spun to the ground, china shattered, his mother’s damn potted ferns tipped and dirt sprayed the air.

“Oh, dear.” Ellie peeked around his abdomen.

“Stay back, Ellie.”

“I’m fine. Look—” he followed the twist of Ellie’s wrist “—more have succumbed to the pox.”

***

“Gerard, I’m fine.” Ellie shoved at Gerard’s hold. He’d wrapped his arms around her legs and torso, hoisted her against his muscled chest, and trapped her against his solid frame. She bounced with every one of his giant steps. “We’ve passed the Citadel’s city limits ages ago.”