by C. J. Pinard
“Wait.”
She turned around to see Griffin standing there, his hands clasped behind his back. “Where are you going?”
“To the library.”
“I shall accompany you.” He put his hand on his waist so she could loop her arm through it.
“I would like that.”
She glanced back briefly to see the other three brothers talking with Francis, but it didn’t escape her attention when Alexander threw her a pained look. Mathias and Zackary had been too deep in a heated conversation to even take notice of her leaving, arm-in-arm, with the oldest Rothhaven.
Once they entered the library, Griffin sat on a plush, red settee and watched with an amused expression as Mariselle went to the wall and ran her fingers over the spines of the books. She pulled one out and smiled. “Oh, how I love Shakespeare so.”
Griffin chuckled, his hands in his lap. “Who doesn’t? He’s a tragic storytelling master.”
She thumbed through Hamlet, looking down at the book. “That is true. His sonnets are very thought-provoking and deep, too.”
“Mariselle.”
She looked up from the book and grinned. “Yes, Griffin?”
“Come here.”
She walked slowly toward him and stood in front of him, looking down where he sat. “Yes, Your Majesty?”
He gently plucked the book from her hand and set it on the settee next to them. Then, he pulled her down into his lap to straddle him. Once they were face-to-face, he brushed a stray curl from her face. “Have you missed me at all?”
She bit her lip, a flush coloring her pale cheeks. She nodded slowly. “Yes, I have, Griff. So much. I cried and cried when you left the North Haven. Alex comforted me well, but you’d taken my innocence. I always thought the one who had done that would be the one I’d marry and spend forever with.”
He shook his head, smiling at her. “It should be that way. But because of the state of Syracuse, and what was going on with Georgina, I didn’t want to let you go, but I had to leave.” He ran his finger down her cheek, over her cherry-red lips, and down her throat. “It broke me, Mariselle.”
She sighed and laid her head on Griffin’s shoulder. “I was broken, too.”
It was then she wondered if Mathias might be feeling how she felt when her virginity was taken, and then thought of how she’d been so quick to jump into another’s bed. Her heart ached for the youngest Rothhaven, and she hoped she could be with him again. But here, and now, she had to give Griffin—the one who’d deflowered her—her undivided attention.
She listened to his even breaths for a few minutes, until he gently pulled her back from him and sealed his mouth over hers. She sighed against his lips, realizing she’d have to, yet again, explain why he couldn’t make love to her—as much as she so badly wanted him to.
Chapter 19
After leaving the library, grateful Griffin hadn’t even suggested they go up to his chambers, she took her book upstairs and decided she really just needed to be alone. The next twenty-five days were going to be torture, waiting to see if she was carrying Mathias’s baby. She wondered if they should do it some more, just to be sure. Although, the marathon sex hadn’t worked for two straight months with Zackary, so she wasn’t sure she was even fertile to begin with.
After Serina helped her undress, change into her nightdress, and hang up her gown, she bade her goodnight and set the heavy book on her bed. She wasn’t feeling particularly tired, but her chambers were the only place she felt she could be alone to think. After dinner, the men had moved to the event hall to play card games and smoke. They had discussed nothing all night but the event with Gaylen from yesterday, and she just wanted the quiet.
Mariselle wandered over to the window overlooking the property, and rested her arms on the windowsill. The horses grazed under the moonlight, looking so peaceful and carefree—and they were. No troubles, their only concern was when they would eat next. She sighed and looked down at the garden house and the stain Gaylen had left. She had never seen anything more horrible in her young life. She had been so terrified when she saw the wizard blast Mathias with those bolts from his hands. She thought he had killed Mathias. She put her hand to her chest to calm her racing heart at the memory.
She thought of Mathias and his mischievous smile and full lips. She wondered if their baby would have the same features. Then, she frowned, knowing it probably wasn’t going to happen.
And if it didn’t, what was she going to do? Once she proved she could not provide an heir for any of them, what would be her fate? Were they going to send her back to her father’s farm? No, she wouldn’t do that. Yes, he was getting up there in years, but she would rather work as a chambermaid or a cook in any one of the Rothhaven castles than leave. She needed those boys and she couldn’t bear the thought of not being able to see them, to be around them. In fact, the mere thought of it made her sick to her stomach.
She chewed her lip as she continued to gaze out over the landscaping, cool, blue moonlight bathing her face. From her window, she didn’t have the best view of the mountains along the east side of the castle, but she could see enough of them, and wondered what it would be like to walk around at the top of one. To be able to see all of Syracuse.
Wanting to get lost in a story to get herself out of her own head, she wandered to the bed and lay on her side, then opened the book.
Hecate flew over the South Haven village and landed, unseen, in the middle of the marketplace. All was quiet, as it was late at night, and there were no townsfolk about. She had done the same thing at the West Haven, North Haven, and East Haven villages. She did not think this one would be any different, but she had to be sure.
In her ethereal form, she wandered down the cobblestone streets and did not hear what she thought she would hear. There was no raucous lovemaking going on. There were no cries from women with menstrual pain. There was no excited talk of trying for a child between loving couples. There was just… nothing.
After floating through a few homes, she sailed up into the sky. “I don’t understand. After she had relations with all four brothers, the curse was supposed to break.” Hecate tried to work it out in her mind. Maybe all the women wouldn’t start their monthlies at once. Perhaps it would be a couple of weeks before the country would know. Still, the women of Syracuse should have felt something. There should have been some magical break or snap. Hecate wasn’t sure, but she does remember when the curse was first placed. Every woman of age bled, old and young, had severe pains in their wombs, and then it had stopped as quickly as it had started. So, now, shouldn’t there have been something similar if the curse was really and truly over? Or maybe it had destroyed the ladies’ insides, and the damage was done. Maybe they would have to wait for the girls who were not yet women to grow up and be able to reproduce.
Hecate couldn’t get headaches, but she knew if she could, she’d have a doozy of one right at that moment. She flew back to her small cottage and went whole before going inside and realizing she still had work to do—and she knew exactly who she was going to call on for help.
When a witch or warlock was murdered, their soul and spirit go into a sort of unconsciousness or hibernation for a period of ten earthly years, called the purgatorium slumber. To the witch or warlock, though, it seemed like merely an overnight human sleep. During that time, it was almost like the universe was recharging him or her—preparing them for becoming another level of witch, like Hecate was. This was why she had fashioned the Blade of Enternum to kill Gaylen with. She didn’t want him to enter the ten-year purgatorium slumber and come back even more powerful. She wasn’t sure if he would come back at all, but by using the enchanted dagger on him, she had ensured if he did come back, he would never be able to go whole, the way she could. Taking on a human form, or briefly possessing a human—borrowing their body—took power, but it also drained it. If she hadn’t casted Gaylen into hell, she knew, at least, the humans would be safe from him physically harming any of them after his purgator
ium slumber was over.
Why she hadn’t thought of it after she’d killed Gaylen, she wasn’t sure, but after her visit to the last village earlier, the thought hit her like a ton of bricks: Angelique should be awakening from her purgatorium slumber at any time. She couldn’t recall the exact date of her death, but it had to be close, or have already passed. She had tried summoning her out of the slumber when the curse was first placed, but she knew it wouldn’t have ever worked.
But now—all she needed to do was locate her. Angelique had to have had her awakening by now, and boy did Hecate have a few choice words and a whole slew of questions for her former protégé! Excitedly, she went into her massive chest full of magical objects and rooted around until she found what she’d been looking for.
She set the wooden box on her work table and opened it up. She moved her gaze over the objects until she found the red cloth. She carefully unwrapped it and was pleased to see the long, auburn lock of hair tied together with a piece of straw. The cloth itself had been soaked in Angelique’s blood before she had wrapped a thick lock of her hair in it. And the witch hadn’t even known; Hecate had done it years ago, all while Angelique had been in a deep sleep after a long day of apprenticeship training.
Hecate had a few more similar cloths of her other apprentices, but she’d never needed them. None of them had been powerful enough to curse an entire country, nor had they ever cast any spells that Hecate herself couldn’t fix or undo.
She carefully closed the box and placed it back into the chest. Standing over the table, she stared down at the lock of hair. She couldn’t help but notice it was so similar to Mariselle’s and knew Angelique had bonded with the young girl at some point, giving her immunity to the infertility. Though, that was still up in the air as far as Hecate was concerned. If she didn’t bear Mathias a child, there would be nothing left to try.
Hecate activated the cloth with a little water, then squeezed the pinkish-red liquid into a stone pestle. Once she’d extracted all the blood she could, she took three strands from the lock of hair and placed them inside, along with the liquid. Next, she took a pinch of morticum root and a dash of sea salt, and threw them in. She crushed the items together, and then put both hands over the pestle. Closing her eyes, she began to chant low in Latin, repeating the same phrase over and over, faster and faster. The longer she chanted, the angrier her voice became; the more impatient she sounded.
Just when she felt as if she could chant no more, the strong scent of roses hit her, and she opened her eyes.
Gasping out loud, and smiling in triumph, she said, “Hello, Angelique.”
Angelique, looking dazed but beautiful in her ghostly form, gazed around at her surroundings, then to Hecate. “Mistress? What is happening?”
Chapter 20
A week had passed since the boys had returned home safely, and it was now time for Marcus to leave the West Haven castle.
“I wish you could stay, Papa,” Mariselle said, holding her father’s hand as he stood by the front door of the castle.
“I know, sweetheart,” he replied, squeezing her hand. “I’ll come back for a visit. Or maybe you can come out to the farm. I’ve planted new crops and built a couple more chicken coops.”
“How? You can barely walk,” she replied, concerned.
He chuckled and winked at her. “I’ve had some help. A very nice lady with a green thumb and a love for animals.”
Mariselle gasped. “Father, have you been holding out on me this past week?”
“Perhaps I have.” He grinned.
“Well, why did you not bring her along? I would have been delighted to make her acquaintance.”
He patted her hand. “Soon, darling, soon. For now, I’d better head out while I have daylight.”
“’Twas nice of Zackary to loan you a driver and a carriage. You think old Morton is up to help pulling it?” She pointed at her father’s horse. Thankfully, they had located him wandering through the forest on their way back and he was grateful Morton had been unharmed.
He nodded. “Oh, yes, he’ll be fine.”
“Okay. Give Smokey, Panther, Ebony, and Frosty kisses for me, okay?”
“I’m not kissing cats, Mariselle, but I’ll tell them you miss them.”
She giggled. “Okay, fair enough. I do miss them so.”
He hugged her. “Goodbye, see you again soon, I hope.”
“Bye, Father.”
He limped down the path with his cane, and Mariselle felt better that he would be traveling back to his farm in the safety of a carriage with a driver rather than alone on Morton.
She wandered upstairs to the solar room to see what the kings were doing. Before opening the door, she stood and listened. The knight posted up outside the door glanced at her, but said nothing.
“I believe that is all then, boys. I do appreciate your help on this.” Zackary’s voice.
“I cannot wait to sleep in my own bed.” Alexander.
“Probably not alone, though.” Griffin laughed.
“Yeah, we shall see.” Alexander laughed with him.
“What about you? Got yourself any fine lasses?” Alexander spoke.
“No, I do not.” Mathias, sounding serious.
“Who’s going to tell Mariselle that you’re all leaving tomorrow?” Zackary asked.
Mariselle burst into the room with tears standing in her eyes. She startled the knight at the door, who immediately pulled out his sword.
“Stand down, stand down,” Zackary said.
“You can’t leave,” Mariselle cried. “Why can’t you all stay?”
Zackary crossed the room and put his hands on her shoulders. Staring down at her, he bit back a smile. “No, love, they cannot. They have their own kingdoms to run. They were only here temporarily to help me re-fortify this castle. In fact, they should have all been gone by now, but the incident with the bandits delayed that.”
“I don’t understand why you even demolished Castle Rothhaven. I just cannot comprehend it! It was so beautiful. Right in the middle of the country, central to all the villages. I had so many fond childhood memories there. I miss it so. I miss all of you being together in one place. These past few weeks have been wonderful…”
Mathias’s heart ached for her. He understood her pain all too well, as he had felt the same way. He did not agree to demolish the castle, but had been outvoted by the other three. But, he kept his mouth closed. It would do no good to dredge it up again.
“Sweet Mariselle,” Alexander started. “You know why we had to. We needed to try to break the curse. Angelique died there. We thought the curse would die with the castle.”
“Well, it didn’t, did it? The only well and truly cursed one around here is me! I can bear this burden no more. You all go back to your kingdoms. As soon as my monthly arrives, I’m going to take a job as a chambermaid and live with the servants so I won’t have to feel this pressure any longer. Then you boys can move on and find wives of royal blood to marry. Then you can run your beloved havens as you see fit without worrying about me and my magical, useless vagina!”
With that, she held her head high, turned on her heel, and stormed out of the solar room.
Griffin put his hands on his hips, looked at his brothers, who were all trying to hide their smirks, and said, “Well, that went well, don’t you think?”
Mariselle stormed into the castle library and pushed the door shut. She slogged over to one of the red settees and flopped down flat on her back. Staring up at the ornately painted ceiling, she blew out a breath. She had immediately regretted her hysterical outburst and knew those boys did not deserve her histrionics. She should not have taken out her pent-up frustration on them—not in that way, anyhow.
She wasn’t stupid; she’d known all along that Griffin, Alexander, and Mathias would have to return to their respective castles. They had kingdoms to run. She personally could not imagine the pressure a king must be under to rule over a whole mass of people. She knew only what she observed while
living in the castles—and that wasn’t much. She was never invited to the secret meetings they held, and only when the Rothhavens were all together was she allowed to sit in. Most of the time, she really had no desire to, though. It was usually boring royal business about taxes and crime, and she had no interest in it.
In fact, she felt like she had no purpose at all. All she did was eat, sleep, and occasionally pleasure one of the kings. Other than looking pretty, reading books, and taking a rare horseback riding lesson, or walk through the garden, she realized she was bored and feeling useless. She knew that was why she had blown up at the brothers earlier. And they hadn’t deserved it, not one little bit. They were good, fine men, morally upstanding, patient, and kind. They were good rulers and well respected by their staff and the townsfolk. Sure, the peasants were frustrated by the curse, but Mariselle knew they had gradually come to accept that the four kings were doing everything they could to try to break it.
She lay on the settee a while longer, trying to formulate an apology that would sound sincere enough, when someone entered the library. She looked over to see Shawna walk in.
“Hello.”
“Hello, Shawna.”
The older woman sat down on the footstool in front of the settee and placed her hand on Mariselle’s. “Are you all right?”
She sighed. “I do not know.”
“You have a right to be upset. I know you’re frustrated, but if you want to talk about it, I’m here for you.”
Mariselle turned her head and smiled. “Thank you. I am just trying to think of a way to apologize to them. I exploded at all four of them in the solar room. They were speechless. None of them went after me. Not that I blame them, I clearly needed to cool off. And I did. Mostly.”
Shawna smirked and placed her hand in front of her mouth. “I know, milady. Everyone on the top two floors heard it.”
Mariselle sat up, her eyes wide. “Surely, ye jest.”
“No, but ’tis all right. Everyone is aware of your situation. We know you love all four of those handsome kings with all your heart. We all feel badly for you. Helpless to help you.”
