Page 54 of A Fragile Enchantment

“Careful,” Kit warned. “You could do some damage with that thing.”

“Then it sounds likeyouare the one who should be careful,” she said teasingly.

“Is that a threat?” he asked, matching her tone.

Her stomach twisted itself into another wicked knot. She had no pert reply to that. Mercifully, she was spared from floundering when she caught a glimpse of a figure emerging from the fog. Their coattails billowed in the wind, a dark banner unfurling over the whispering grass.

“Who is that?” Niamh asked.

Sinclair shaded his eyes and grimaced. “Well. This is awkward.”

Within a few moments, Jack came clearly into view. The wind had made a mess of his hair, and his gait seemed uncharacteristically loose—almost uneven. He even smiled at them as he approached, and it gave Niamh the same impression she imagined witnessing some sort of rare cosmological event would. Rosa and Miriam immediately curtsied to him. Niamh remembered her manners a moment too late, murmuringYour Highnessunder her breath.

“No need for such formalities,” he said. “May I join your game?”

Kit stared at him as though he had spoken another language entirely. For once in his life, he seemed to be entirely speechless.

Sinclair, however, recovered enough wherewithal to reply. He clapped Jack on the shoulder, a bit too hard to be friendly. “Of course, Jackie. Grab a mallet.”

With that, they each took their first shots—an altogether unremarkable round, apart from Niamh almost breaking her own ankle bone with a misaimed swing. Rosa, meanwhile, abstained from effort altogether. Her ball sailed lazily through the air and thunked to the earth no more than a few yards away. But when Jack knocked his ball against Kit’s and sent them both flying far afield of the course, the air went brittle.

Seething, Kit rounded on his brother. “What are you doing?”

“I am playing the game. I see you are still a terrible sport.”

“No,” Kit replied slowly. “What are you doinghere? Don’t you have guests to entertain—or appease, for that matter? Or perhaps you should focus on your staff first.”

At that, irritation broke through Jack’s unusual languor. But instead of replying to him, he turned to Rosa. “What say you, Infanta Rosa? You’ve seen enough of Avaland’s troubles to weigh in on them. I’d like to ask your opinion.”

Rosa, who had been politely pretending not to eavesdrop, regarded them with a preoccupied expression. She leaned against her mallet. “You truly want my opinion, sir?”

“Indeed I do.”

“It seems to me that you are under siege, holding a disadvantageous defensive position. If you give the Machlish what they are asking for, you will end the worst of it.”

Jack seemed bitterly amused. “And when my court moves against me for adopting such a weak position and insulting my beloved father’s legacy? Or when the working class rails against me for treating the Machlish as their equals?”

“In the event you are replaced, a new regent will likely use force against them to appease the people—your opponents—who put power in their hands. That will only worsen the situation, potentially inciting an all-out revolt. Such mismanagement would smooth the path for your reinstatement as soon as your father passes. In the very worst-case scenario, I ask for a favor from my father, or your pretty wife from hers.” She paused. “That is my humble opinion, of course, Your Highness.”

“And there you have it,” said Jack. “By God, she has solved all of my problems in seconds.”

Rosa narrowed her eyes with displeasure, clearly aware that he was making some sport of her. Muttering something in Castilian under her breath, she hit the ball, sending it soaring toward a distant iron post.

Once she ambled out of earshot, Kit seized on Jack. “Are youdrunk?”

“It has been a very long couple of weeks,” Jack replied tartly. “Why should I not enjoy myself, on my own private lands? Mother would surely approve of getting drunk to mark the occasion of her house’s grand reopening.”

“Because you’re making a complete fool of yourself,” he hissed, “and you are about to let everything fall and crush you underneath it.”

Jack looked at him for a long time, through bleary eyes. Then he laughed so hard a tear ran down his cheek. “Oh, this is rich.”

Oh no.Niamh shrunk back a few steps. She had witnessed enough of their fights by now to know this would not end well.

Kit recoiled, but he masked his hurt with a scowl. “Mother would be ashamed of what you’ve become. You talk about familyas though it means something to you, but you care more about our poisonous legacy than the family you have left, much less your own subjects.”

“Mother? Ashamed of me?” Jack tilted his head. “What on earth are you talking about?”

Kit’s anger fizzled, doused by uncertainty.