Ten

Kane and Briggs move Lord and Lady Ashwood’s bodies, gently lowering them against the base of a pine tree. The breeze softens around us, and with the light trill of birdsong and dappled sunlight filtering down through the canopy, the ambassador of Cups and his wife seem almost at peace.

Kane and Briggs take turns placing pine boughs over the bodies. My eyes burn, and I look up at the swaying branches and blink back my tears. I didn’t know them, but my lungs constrict, tightening with a sorrow I’m only now acknowledging.

The three of us stand together, still as statues around the makeshift memorial, the silence between us heavy with shared sadness. Briggs steps forward, his voice breaking the quiet. “I’ve worked in Lord Ashwood’s stables since I was a boy. He was always kind to me. It was an honor to serve them.”

Next to me, Kane’s words of acknowledgment vibrate through the air, and I feel my lips move, though I’m too lost in my thoughts to know exactly what I say.

While Briggs returns to the carriage, tends to the horses, and reattaches the trunk of belongings, Shadow, Kane, and I pick our way through the forest back to the stone cottage. Shadow clomps along the carpet of ferns and pine cones, twigs snapping beneath her hooves, and Kane guides the mare with an expert hand, ensuring the garments and jewels we took from Lord and Lady Ashwood’s trunk remain secure on top of her saddle.

We don’t have far to go to get back to the cottage. With every step from the grave site, a bit of the weight anchored to my chest and shoulders falls away until I feel almost like myself again.

“Thank you. For what you did back there.”

“It’s my duty to protect the people of Towerfall, no matter which kingdom they call home,” Kane says, matter-of-fact.

“I do appreciate that you keep saving me, but I mean what you did for Briggs. What you did for Lord and Lady Ashwood. It was nice.”

“It was the right thing to do.”

“You really are like a knight in shining armor. You seem all broody and bad on the outside, but that’s just to hide your gooey center. I bet your friends would say that you’re the nicest, most dependable of all the warriors.”

“I don’t have friends. Not anymore.” Shadow nickers and shakes her head, her silky black mane swatting him in the cheek. “Except for Shadow here.”

“That can’t be true. I feel like you’re totally—”

“Fawn, do not make the mistake of thinking you can trust anyone within the kingdom.”

His abruptness stings, and I fall silent, the words hanging heavily between us. I can’t help but wonder what’s behind those walls, what keeps him so guarded.

No, Hannah, you don’t care. He’s off-limits for anything more than a good time. Remember that.

“You have to admit,” I say, distracting myself from wanting to rescue a man who is no doubt another terrible mistake, “not listening to you was a really good idea.”

“I suppose Fate does work in mysterious ways.”

“Fate? I don’t think Fate would like being looped in with highwaymen and murder.” I scoff. “But, if Fate does have anything to do with our current situation, it’s about time she did something. To say she owes me considering the absolute bullshit I’ve had to deal with on the relationship front is an understatement.”

“Ah, it seems our Hannah is unlucky in love,” he says, smoothing his hand down Shadow’s sleek black neck.

“Is it that obvious?” I grumble. At this point, my heart has been bruised too many times to count, and I can only blame myself for the choices I keep making.

“When it comes to matters of the heart, not everyone is as skilled as I am.”

“Matters of the heart? Okay, Casanova.” I snort, rolling my eyes. “Saying you don’t want to catch feelings isn’t a skill. It’s typical.”

“Casanova…” He nods, clearly glossing over the fact that being a guy more interested in sex than a relationship makes him just like everyone else. “Another weeping asshole like your Chad.”

The mention of Chad makes my stomach clench. “Two things.” I hold up my hand to tick each point off on my fingers. “One: I do not need or want a man. I’m in my independent expansion era, thank you very much. And two: Chad isn’t mine. Turns out, he never was. And it’s not the first time I’ve had to face those facts.” The last part slips out, and I try to cover the admission with a change of subject. “On a different note, I’m pretty sure I’ll have to quit my job.” I bite the inside of my cheek. Of course, I would choose the second-worst thing to talk about. “Or maybe the silver lining of being magickally dropped into a different realm is the fact that I’ll get fired for randomly disappearing. I’m sure it’ll make Stephanie’s job a lot easier.”

“Stephanie?” Kane’s brow lifts with a question.

“Think of her as another flavor of Chad.”

Snot speckles the ground as Shadow sneezes, punctuating my point.

“I see.” Kane scratches the round tip of the mare’s soft muzzle. “You know, there are ways to ensure you arrive back in your realm at the exact time you left it.”

“How would that work?” I cock my head, mentally sorting through all the pros and cons cycling through my thoughts at once.

Pro: My mother won’t send out a search party when I don’t answer her about the date with the hobbit.

Con: I’ll be back in my life.

Pro: My landlord won’t let my mom, sister, and the police into my apartment to see the abysmal state of things when I’m officially declared a missing person.

Con: I’ll be back in my life…

Shit.

“She won’t like the answer,” Kane says to Shadow.

“Oh, wait. Don’t tell me. It’s magick .” I hold up my hands and wiggle my fingers to add a bit of flair. “So I won’t get fired. At least not because I skipped out on work. Guess I’ll have to face that nightmare of a problem head-on.”

“Shadow and I find it best to face all problems directly.”

We enter the small clearing where the stone cottage sits, as rickety and run-down as when we left.

“Oh yeah? Is that why you’re hiding out in the woods?” I motion to the derelict home up ahead. “I didn’t realize that was the most direct way to solve being banished.”

Shadow snorts, and Kane grumbles a curse. “I have a duty, and banishment won’t keep me from it.”

We reach the ramshackle cottage, its weathered exterior blending seamlessly with the surrounding forest. Kane loops Shadow’s reins around a post and smooths his palm along her neck, his whispers soft and soothing. He unties one of the leather bags attached to either side of the saddle, removes her bridle, and slips the bag of grain over her head. Shadow eagerly dips her muzzle into the bag and starts to munch.

“How long have you had her?” I ask, reaching up to take Lord Ashwood’s clothes from where they’re draped over the saddle.

“I found her.” Kane pauses as if choosing his words carefully. “About five years ago. She was just a foal then, abandoned and injured. We were returning from a hunt near the border of the kingdom when I heard her cries.

“It took a while to gain her trust, but eventually, I managed to free her. She was weak, starving. I took her to the palace stables and nursed her back to health. We’ve been together ever since.”

“She’s lucky to have you.” I try to block out the starry-eyed pang of admiration I have for Kane and run my fingers along the jacket thrown over the saddle, silver threads stitched in a pattern of cresting waves.

Kane shrugs, but there’s a softness in his eyes as he watches the mare. “I’m the lucky one. She’s saved my life more times than I can count. There’s a loyalty in animals not found in people.”

A comfortable silence drifts between us—a little too comfortable—and I rush to fill it. “Even with this on, you won’t look anything like a lord,” I tease and motion to the jacket, the corners of my mouth twitching with a grin.

“Thank you,” Kane says, patting Shadow while she munches on her snack.

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“Those born with royal blood don’t work with their hands. They don’t defend nor protect.” Kane’s dark gaze meets mine, intense and unflinching. “They don’t know how to do a great many things that I know.”

“Like what?” I ask, my fingers clutching the velvet.

A shriek pierces through the forest. I flinch as an owl’s mottled gray-brown wings slice the air above me. Kane reacts swiftly and sweeps his arm around my waist. Before I fully comprehend what’s happening, he’s pushed me under the safety of the sagging porch roof. My back meets the cottage door’s rough wood, and I clutch the jacket against my chest as his body shields mine from whatever dangers lurk within the trees. The sudden closeness, the warmth of him, the subtle scent of woodsmoke and pine that clings to him merge and send a rush of heat through my limbs.

“I can show you what I know.” His words caress my hair.

My heart skips, then races, pounding rapidly against my ribs. “I’m always up for learning something new.”

“That’s right.” That delicious grin returns, and I want to trace my tongue across its arch. “How could I forget what a quick study you are, Little Fawn?”

A pet name has never sounded so good as it does on his lips. I feel myself rise, lifting onto my tiptoes, drawn to him like a magnet to steel.

“Fawn…” His voice is a warm caress against my mouth.

“Yes…” I reply, barely a whisper, anticipation pulsing through me.

“We don’t have much time.”

I blink and ground my feet firmly back onto the creaky wooden decking. Thankfully the laces of my dress aren’t that tight. If they were, I would have swooned.

You’re independent and autonomous, Hannah. Not hoping some guy who’s made it clear he’s emotionally unavailable will kiss you. The reminder hits like a splash of cold water, and Kane’s warning runs through my thoughts.

Do not make the mistake of thinking you can trust anyone within the kingdom.

But why do I feel like I can trust him?

He opens the creaking door and steps inside, completely unaware of the battle that wages within me between the desperate and stuck past version of myself I’m trying to get away from and the new and much improved woman I am running toward headlong. Unfortunately, it’s starting to feel like one of them would be having much more fun than the other.

We haven’t been gone long, but as I step inside the snug hideout, I already feel like a different person than who I was when I first arrived. I know what’s happening and what I need to get home. More than that, I know falling into bed with Kane Blackthorne won’t solve any of my problems.

I trail my fingers along my waist and the soft gold scar that rests beneath the fabric of my dress. Kane has saved me more times than I’d like to admit, but I’m not helpless.

Okay, maybe when I first landed in Towerfall and was attacked by that mob, I was helpless, but I’m not anymore. I can contribute to this journey as much as he can. More even. Like at Posh Pulse, I bring the ideas and the clarity of action. I know how to create a brand. I can dream up a campaign that would sell rocks to a quarry, sunglasses during winter to that town in Alaska where the sun literally does not shine. I turn hot garbage into the garbage people think they need. And Kane is way more appealing than hot garbage.

He heads out of the cottage to gather the rest of the clothes from Shadow’s saddle, and I say to his back, “I can help you too, you know.”

Arms overflowing with lace and powder-blue velvet, he tilts his chin. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”

“Okay, so…” I begin, pacing around the small living room area like I’m back home in my studio apartment coming up with a new marketing strategy. “Sure, there are a lot of things in Towerfall that I’m not familiar with, but there is one thing I do know. And that’s branding.”

“Branding?” he asks, dumping the clothes and bag of jewels onto the chair in front of the fireplace.

“It’s like a vibe or signature style.”

He blinks down at me, confusion furrowing his brow.

“I really wish you would stop looking at me like that.” I hand him Lord Ashwood’s jacket and tap my nail against my chin. Coming up with a way to define branding without mentioning marketing, ads, or tech is more difficult than I realized. “Branding is basically about creating a unique picture that sticks with people. When you think of the Kingdom of Pentacles, what comes to mind?”

“I am its protector and—”

“No, no, no. I mean, yes, but that’s not what I’m looking for. So, when I think of my favorite coffee shop, I picture their cozy leather chairs, the warmth of their chunky, oversize mugs, the books that line the walls…” I close my eyes, lost in the memory of braving the windy Chicago winter to use their Wi-Fi to finish my term papers. “The smell of the from-scratch zucchini muffins they’re always baking, the jazzy music that’s just loud enough to drown out all the chatter…”

I take a deep breath, practically able to fill my lungs with the nutty caramel scents of my favorite latte. “Branding is about evoking a feeling. It’s about making whatever you’re selling unforgettable. About making people want to keep coming back for more. Does that make sense?”

Kane stares at me, his gaze so deep and black that I feel like I’m falling.

He remains silent, glancing down at the jacket in his hands. With an exasperated sigh, I pluck the dress from the chair and turn to search for some modicum of privacy.

“When I think of Pentacles, I think of honor and duty. The vast forests that stretch beyond the horizon. I think of the clear, cold rivers that wind through the land. Rolling hills and fields of grain. The Tower that has stood guard for centuries over its people—the families who have lived and loved and fought for this land for generations.” His gaze lifts to meet mine, and I see something there that wasn’t before. It’s as if a wall has cracked, letting a sliver of light through.

I swallow, my throat tight. “I understand why you want to protect it.”

He nods. “And I will do anything, hurt anyone, in order to keep it safe.”

“Then let’s make you look like a lord.” I motion to the tangled black waves resting on his shoulders. “Starting with your hair.”

He rubs his thumb against the rough pad of his forefinger. “I don’t suppose arguing will get me anywhere.”

“Admit it. You know this is an argument you wouldn’t win.” I step into the tiny kitchen and rifle through the cabinets. Amid the clutter, I find a rusted pair of shears. They’re not great, but they’ll do the trick.

My years at Posh Pulse haven’t just been about navigating the intricacies of brand management; it’s also about understanding the power of presentation. And countless evenings lost in the worlds of Bridgerton , The Tudors , Outlander , and every other ye-olden-days shows I can stream through my sister’s accounts have given me a clear blueprint of exactly how to transform Kane into the epitome of nobility.

I remove the stool from under the wooden table still covered in the breadcrumbs and egg-crusted pan from our earlier meal and motion for him to sit.

“I never admit defeat.” He tosses the jacket over the back of the chair and strides over.

Kane stiffens as I comb my fingers through his thick hair. It falls loosely around his face, rugged and untamed. It looks windblown and wild, and I wonder what it would feel like damp with sweat.

“Relax,” I murmur, more to soothe myself than him.

My fingers work through the tangles, and the tension in his shoulders starts to melt away.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“A little,” I admit, my lips quirking into a grin. “Only because I used to cut the neighborhood kids’ hair to make extra money to go on the high school senior trip to Venice. It’s this city built on water.”

“Why would anyone build a city on water?”

“I wouldn’t know,” I say, snipping away at the tangled waves. “I never got enough money together to make the trip.”

Black tendrils drift to the floor, revealing more of his striking features—his sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and his intense eyes that seem to swallow the light. As I work, it’s like a mood board comes together in my mind, and I take inspiration pictures pasted behind my eyes to craft Kane into Lord Ashwood, the ambassador of Cups.

As I finish the last few cuts, I step back to admire my work. His hair is shorter now, more structured, slightly longer on the top and with neatly tapered sides. He looks every bit the lord, regal and commanding.

“It’s amazing what a simple haircut can accomplish,” I say, in near disbelief with the change I’ve managed to create.

Kane rises from the stool, running a hand through his newly cut hair. “Not bad.”

“I know.” I grin with a rush of pride. “It’ll all come together once you’ve changed and put the eye patch on.”

“Would you like me to do so outside to protect your modesty?” he asks, a wicked smile creasing the corners of his eyes.

I shake my head and toss the velvet jacket to him. “Just turn around.”

“First…”

My cheeks betray me, flashing pink as he approaches and encircles me with his strong arms. Like he’s done it a hundred times, his fingers easily find the laces tied behind my back. With one motion, he unties the dress, and it loosens around my shoulders.

“Seems like you have a lot of practice.”

The fabric slides down my chest, and Kane catches it before it reveals my breasts. “I’m good with my hands.”

I’m captured in the pull of his gaze, my fingers thoughtlessly skipping over the rough ridges of his knuckles as I take hold of the dress.

“Remember, Fawn,” he begins, “a lady of Ashwood’s status will hold herself with poise and grace. Shoulders back…” With gentle pressure, he guides me to stand taller, his hands warm against my shoulders. “Chin slightly lifted.” His fingertips whisper against my neck. He presses into my jaw, and I tilt my head.

“Anything else?” I murmur, clutching the dress close as goose bumps rise along my skin.

He steps back, breaking the spell that wove itself around me and held me close. “Be a good girl and get dressed. More lessons will come.”

“Right,” I manage to respond, my heart racing as I reel myself in from making a mistake I couldn’t take back. “We’re running out of time.”