All throughout dinner, Berta had been shivering and sucking in long breaths and drinking more wine than was good for her, especially given how little of the food she ate. Fortunately, dinner was short. No servants, no fancy courses, just bread and meat. Simple. Everyone was pretty quiet. Brand drank several goblets of wine, but it did not make him feel like chatting.

“All right, you’re free to go,” he said at last, waving his hand. “If you’re still hungry, take something upstairs with you. There’s more in the pantry. Tonight, I’m going to talk to—”

“Can I speak to you tonight?” Seri asked. “I have something pressing on my mind.”

Well, that was a surprise. She volunteered?

“No,” Brand said. “I need to speak to Berta tonight. Her grace period is up.”

“Grace period?”

“Three months of grace, and then the dragon transformation begins.”

Seri was silent for a moment. “Can I speak to you tomorrow then?”

“Yes, that’s fine. Good night, everyone. Berta come with me.”

He helped her from her chair. He’d drunk a lot, but she’d drunk more and was visibly wobbling, so he took her by the shoulders and steered her into his room.

It was dark and cold and rather dusty. Brand had locked his private room before he left, and no one had been in it for several days. Brand sighed. He brought the candelabra in from the dining room and set it on a table, but the room was still dim.

“Sit down, please,” he told Berta. “I’d offer you some wine, but I think you’ve drunk enough. I’m going to start the fire.”

It bothered him that he couldn’t just snap his fingers and start a flame, but combustion was entirely different from moving objects, and sadly, he’d never learned it. He’d have to light his hearth the old-fashioned way, which he hated to do in front of the girls. It made him seem so… well, mundane.

“Here we go,” he said, when he’d gotten a flame going. He took a reed and began lighting more candles around the room. “I’m sorry about the state of this—Berta! What are you doing?”

Berta was already halfway undressed. Her gown was on the floor, and she was in her undergarments, fumbling at the laces of her bodice and sniffling and shaking the whole time.

“I… I…” Berta gulped. “You said…”

“I said to sit down. Here. Cover up.”

He threw her a blanket.

Berta sank into the couch, pulled the blanket to her chest, and burst into tears.

Brand rubbed his head. Well, this was going great. He took a few deep breaths, pulled out a handkerchief, sat down beside her, and offered it to her.

“Berta,” he said, as gently as he could. “Why are you crying? We’re only going to talk.”

“No,” she sobbed. “No, I don’t want to talk. I want you to take me. I’m ready, I am, I’m just—I need more wine.” She reached out with her hand.

“No wine.” He pushed down her hand. “You’re already sobbing—”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she said, wiping her tears.

“—and we haven’t even spoken about what I want.”

“I know what you want. You want the amulet in my castle. The one that holds our magic. If I sleep with you tonight, you’ll undo the curse. Once I get you the amulet, you’ll let me go, right?”

Brand stared at her. He blinked.

“Berta,” he said softly. “Did someone tell you this?”

He was trying to keep himself calm, to not scare her, but apparently it didn’t work, because her eyes went wide and then she let out a wail and toppled in on herself. Brand took a deep breath and stood up, walking around the room. Patience, he needed patience.

“Who told you?” he asked.

“I’m sorry, I’ve messed it all up, I’m so sorry—”

“Stop apologizing. Stop crying. Pull yourself together and answer my question. Who told you all that?”

It took several minutes, but Berta managed to choke down her sobs.

“Rilla,” she said. “She said that’s what you want. But… but she said it has to look like our idea. That we want to… to be with you.”

The wine lurched inside his stomach. Brand stood up and leaned against the wall.

Rilla? She’d told Berta to do this? Rilla, who had come to him and held his hand and kissed him. That was just an act? She just wanted to get away. Of course, she wanted to get away, he knew that, but he had asked her, he’d specifically said she didn’t have to—or he’d tried to say that. Had he said that? No, because she’d kissed him. She’d undressed him. He hadn’t made her do any of those things. If she didn’t want to be with him, all she had to do was say so.

“I’m sorry,” Berta said.

“Rilla told you this exactly?” he asked. The sound of her name was like a thud inside his stomach.

“Well, not like that, but… I mean, it’s not like she could, there are mirrors everywhere. But I figured it out. That is… that is what you want?”

Brand squeezed his hands into fists.

“Thank you,” he said. “Go to your room, Berta. Get some sleep.”

“But the dragon—”

Brand waved his hand. “The curse is gone. I will bring you home tomorrow. Now go to bed.”

Berta sniffled. She gathered up her fallen clothes and left the room.