For The One(13)

“Sir William. Have you a petition to bring before us?” Lord de Bricasse began formally, as he usually did during the meetings.

William bowed at the waist, as was custom. “My lord and lady, gentlemen, I’d like to let Mistress Kovac speak for herself.”

William waved a hand toward me and I dipped in an awkward curtsy, made even more so because I had no skirt to grab. Then I faced the council table to find all of them looking at me.

“Mistress Kovac, do you have a complaint against Sir William?”

My mouth dropped open, then I quickly recovered. “Not against Sir William, no. He’s here to support me. My complaint is against Doug—I mean, Sir Douglas.”

Doug picked that moment to show up, striding in with his chest puffed up. He halted on the other side of William, like he was more scared of me than he was of the guy who had injured him with a big-ass longsword not an hour ago. I noted that he now had his arm in a sling and he threw a stinging glare at William, who either ignored him or didn’t notice.

“This ought to be good,” Doug mumbled, turning that glare on me.

I cleared my throat and once again faced the council, explaining my plight as quickly as I could while giving as few details as possible.

Lady de Bricasse cleared her throat and adjusted her seat. “This might be out of the purview of our council if Sir Douglas does not choose to follow our arbitration, but it would seem that the item belongs to Mistress Kovac. What say you, Sir Douglas?”

“It’s true that I was with Mistress Kovac on the day in question when she chose to hock her supposedly precious tiara in exchange for money.”

Lady de Bricasse raised her brow. “But you weren’t willing to lend it to her?”

He shrugged. “I offered. She said she didn’t take money from friends.”

Her gaze narrowed and my hopes soared. Getting the lady on my side was a coup. This might work yet. “Yet you spent even more money to buy the item back.”

Doug shrugged with his good shoulder. “I was trying to do something nice.”

I stiffened. “He wanted something to hold over my head.” I folded my arms over my chest, unwilling to go into the details. I’d tried to talk to Doug about breaking up weeks ago, told him that I didn’t think we were right for each other. But he’d begged me to give it another chance. I should have gone with my gut, but I suspected that Doug saw the tiara as a bargaining chip. Jerk.

I scowled at him. What had I even seen in him in the first place? He wasn’t a bad-looking guy, and sure he’d been charming and effusive when we first started seeing each other. It had even been sweet at first, and then…it became needy and weird. Three months with him had been way too long.

Doug’s face contorted into a facsimile of sadness. “Mistress Kovac is being unnecessarily cruel and throwing my kind deed back in my face.”

I turned to him, fists clenched at my sides. “It would have been a kind deed had you chosen to give me the tiara and let me pay you back. Instead, you are claiming it’s yours.”

“Would you allow her to buy it back from you?” asked Lord de Bricasse.

“Hmm…” Doug put his hand to his chin as if this was the first he’d heard of the idea. Ass.

“I offered to buy it back at triple what he paid,” intoned William. “He refused.”

Doug made a show of lowering his head, emphasizing his “heartbreak.” I almost groaned.

“I’m willing to give it back, but I don’t want money attached to it. It will sully my memory of my time with Mistress Kovac.” His voice trailed off, and this time I did audibly scoff.

The council all turned to look at me. “You aren’t sympathetic, Mistress Kovac?”

“No. I’m not. That item…” My voice faltered for a minute and I swallowed. I didn’t want to go into it—not now, not here.

How could I explain this tight ball of panic in my chest at the thought of losing yet another part of my past? Before I could stop it, the memory of my dad placing it my hands with sorrow in his eyes overwhelmed me. “Kci,” he’d said—the Bosnian term for “little daughter”—“You have to be brave…be brave for Mama and Papa.”

My fists tightened at my sides and I was tempted to stomp my foot. I gave Doug major side-eye. “If not money, then what do you want?”

Doug got that look in his eye again, as if he were contemplating the answer to that question. But he’d already figured out what he wanted. Either I’d have to undo the breakup or…. Goddess, I had no idea, actually. He knew I was planning to follow the Renaissance Faire in a few months. I would not leave without that tiara any more than I’d leave without my right arm. Maybe he was using it to keep me here?