A suite of bells began to play, their bright, tinkling sound akin to my sister’s laugh. At once my sister’s demeanor changed; she grew animated and agitated, her bloodless lips stretched thin in a grotesque smile.
“That must be him!” she said happily. “My Manók.” She rose from her chair, and stood in the middle of her barrow, waiting with her arms outstretched. I wondered who would appear—which of her tall, elegant swains from the Goblin Ball would play the Hungarian count. “Come in, my love!”
I turned, half expecting a door to appear and let in this mysterious Hungarian husband. But no door materialized. Instead, with a breeze that sent the fairy lights swirling, the Goblin King swept into view.
“Hello, my darling,” he said, taking K?the’s hand in his. Those wolf’s eyes glinted at me as he met my gaze over my sister’s head. “How did you enjoy your cake?”
THE OLD LAWS
The Goblin King and I locked eyes with each other as my sister made our introductions.
“Darling,” she said. “You remember my sister, Elisabeth, of course?”
“Charmed, Fr?ulein.” He brought my hand to his lips. I resisted the urge to snatch it away and deliver it back with a slap.
“Liesl.” K?the turned to me. “My husband, Manók Hercege.”
“A pleasure,” I said through gritted teeth.
“I do believe your sister does not approve of me, my dear,” the Goblin King said to K?the. “She stares daggers into my soul. They stab.” He pressed his hand to his heart.
“Liesl!” K?the reprimanded.
“Now, now,” the Goblin King soothed. “I’m sure Elisabeth is only doing her duty, as an elder sister must. Since she is doomed to a life of spinsterhood, she might as well pass judgment on all your swains, yes?”
“Manók!” K?the slapped him hard on the wrist. “Be kind. The both of you.”
“Mein Herr,” I said tightly. “A word?”
The Goblin King inclined his head. “Of course. Madam?” He turned to K?the, asking to be excused from her presence. My sister nodded her consent and waved us off.
“Manók Hercege?” was the first thing out of my mouth when we were alone.
The Goblin King gave an elegant shrug. “I know a little Hungarian.”
“What does it mean?”
He grinned. “What you think it means. I am not so creative as all that, Elisabeth.”
I frowned. “Is that your name? Have you a name?”
The Goblin King stiffened. “That is not the topic at hand.”
I raised my brows. But his face was shuttered tight as a house in a storm.
“No,” I agreed. “The topic is why and how you’ve made my sister believe she’s married to you.”
“Jealous?” He looked pleased.
“Did you force her? Coerce her somehow? Or is this all an elaborate fantasy you’ve orchestrated to trap her here with you forever?”
“Coerced is such a strong word,” he said. “I like to think I am persuasive on my own merits.”
“She thinks you are a Hungarian count.”
He waved his hand. “We all have our flaws.”
“You can play your games with me,” I said. “But leave K?the alone. She is not equipped to deal with you.”
“Oh, and you are?” The Goblin King leaned forward. I willed myself to stillness. “Do tell; I am intrigued.”
“The game is between you and me,” I repeated. “Leave my sister out of this. She’s innocent.”
His eyes darkened. “Is your sister truly innocent?”
“Yes.”
“A girl well acquainted with temptation, a girl with an inviting laugh, a fickle heart, and an adventurous soul,” he said in a low voice. “A girl given to self-indulgence, who reaches for the low-hanging, forbidden fruit and eats of it against the wisdom of her older sister—can such a girl truly be called innocent?”
I went rigid with rage. “It is not for you to judge.”
“But it is for you?” he returned. “Are you responsible for your sister’s virtue?”
“No,” I said. “But I will safeguard her good name.”
“Oh, Elisabeth.” The Goblin King shook his head. “When will you be selfish? When will you ever do anything for yourself?”
I was silent.
“You cannot leash yourself to your sister’s quim and whims.” All pretense of charm or chicanery were gone from the Goblin King. “Someday she must make her own choices. Without you. What will you do when there is no one left to take care of, no one left to look after? Is that when you will finally look after you?”
He had a way of attacking me with compassion. His unexpected kindness, more than his charm or beauty, was seductive. I disliked the truth in his words. And his pity. I did not want his pity.
The Goblin King sighed. “K?the is part of the game. The pieces have been set in motion, and she is one of them.”
“You gave me the days of winter to escape the Underground.” I crossed my arms. “And you’ve gone and married my sister behind my back.”
That smug grin returned to his face. “You are jealous. Well, well, well; that bodes well for me.”
When I did not rise to his bait, he shook his head.