by Brea Viragh
“I would have liked her, I’m sure.” I tried to offer up a smile, hope blooming in my chest. “Reading is my favorite hobby. I find it a way to escape from otherwise harsh realities, especially down in the village. In that respect perhaps your mother and I share something in common.”
Wrong thing to say. “You are nothing like her,” Merek snapped.
“I didn’t say I was like her—”
“She was a kind and warm woman. Not some disgruntled witch who curses any man who wrongs her. Even one who wanted to marry her.”
I tried to draw air into my lungs when each inhalation felt like swallowing glass. “What do you mean, marry?” A shiver shook me.
I lifted my gaze to meet his and saw a man with his face drawn into an angry scowl.
“Forget I said anything about it. I’ve done my best to block out the events of that night,” he went on. “Perhaps my memories are unclear. It was a very harrowing time of my life. I must admit, though, by this point I should be used to it. It seems my past is made up of more mountains than not.”
Sitting very still in the chair, I tried to internalize his words, to recall a memory that seemed to have vanished from my existence entirely. “But we must have known each other fairly well, if there was talk of marriage.” My mouth went dry at the word.
A slow nod. “Yes. We did.”
I could have sworn a low growl accompanied his words, and for a moment longer, Merek stood without wanting to elaborate.
But finally he said, “We were both young and didn’t understand each other. I’m…sorry that you lost your memories. It would be a great help for you to recall the wording of the spell you used on me, and find a way to reverse it. I suppose I will have to grant you access to the library in this case, though it pains me.”
He walked over and sat in the chair across from mine. No matter how he appeared outwardly, Merek always carried himself like a prince. A king. His posture remained dignified if not a little imposing, and in spite of the fangs and claws he remained proud.
“Did anything about that night stand out to you?” I pushed. Trying to get him to open up more when he clearly did not want to talk about it. “I ask not to bring up painful memories but to give me a better understanding of what magic I worked.”
Merek worried the underside of his lip on his fangs. He didn’t want to give in to his unnamed expectations. I understood how he felt, because if the positions were reversed, and the same person who cursed me showed up promising a cure they might not be able to deliver, I would feel the same.
“Nothing much.” He pinched his nose, breathing heavily. “Most of it is a blur to me. I did my best to block out the memory. There was too much emotional pain associated with it and the days following.”
His voice remained low and raspy, slipping under my skin in a rich baritone that had the potential to take me under and drown me.
I turned to him, seeing the way he held himself, muscles stiff. “Perhaps you said something to me. Or did something that caused the spell to manifest in the manner it did. I don’t know. I need your help to fill in the missing pieces. Was it…was it entirely my fault? Or did you play a part as well?”
Pure silence reigned for a moment and outside a stiff breeze had the limbs of trees in need of pruning tapping against the windows. I refused to let him intimidate me with his attitude and callous manners. He’d saved me in the woods, I reminded myself, and by allowing me to stay here, he’d accepted my help.
He would answer me.
“You can think what you want about me,” he said after a long silence. “Your opinion is no longer my concern.”
“I don’t understand why you aren’t telling me about that night. Is there something you wish to hide?”
Merek blinked, as though the action would clear the horrors of the recollection from his mind. “Because there is nothing to tell you. You’ve already seen the results of your actions.” His face had gone cold. Like stone. And that unnerved me as much as seeing the way the claws at his fingertips curled over the arms of the chair. “What more do you need to know?”
“Everything,” I insisted.
In my mind, it made no sense for him to keep the details of that night to himself, unless it was a way for him to test me, to see what kind of resolve I actually possessed toward freeing him from the curse. Or to see if I really had lost all my memories and wasn’t just playing him for a fool yet again.
“I’m not allowing you to stay here in order to grill me,” Merek stated sharply. An end to our conversation. “You’re here as a means to an end, and the moment the curse is broken, you will be on your way. Out of my life once again. As swiftly as you entered it.”
“You must believe I don’t want you to suffer anymore.”
“Then you should have listened to me that last night,” he responded blandly and stood up.
“One more thing,” I said before he could go.
Merek froze in position but did not turn around. “What is it?”
I rose and swiftly headed for one of the shelves, pulling out a volume I’d spotted earlier before he entered the room. “This book. It is one of my favorites and I lost my copy due to…” An idiot with a huge ego. “…unforeseen circumstances. Would it be all right if I borrowed this one?”
After a long pause I heard him sigh. “Do as you wish. It’s not as if I’ve ever been able to stop you.”
My head throbbed as I watched him leave. Getting information out of him was going to be like pulling teeth. But I had to keep trying. The more I knew, the more it might trigger my memories and give me access to the magic I knew I had. Or at least had had once upon a time. I must find a way to release this poor man from a curse I had inflicted upon him. Before it was too late.
It might already be too late. Merek didn’t seem to care anymore.
Sunlight continued to illuminate the dust motes dancing in the air. Since Merek hadn’t physically taken me out of the library, I decided to stay. To see what his mother’s books might have for me in terms of answers. And hope he hadn’t changed his mind about allowing me to remain here.
His future depended on me finding answers. Mine depended on his mercy.
Chapter 11
I spent all that day in the library, searching through the books for any kind of arcane subjects. Who knew where an answer might come from? Luckily I found quite a few volumes with potential. But as the light began to fade, I decided to stack what I’d found on the table to be pored over tomorrow. Merek would probably highly disapprove and would rather I examine them one by one then replace them back to their original positions. Too bad. I had to do the research my own way.
By then the light was almost gone and my stomach was emitting embarrassing rumbling sounds. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Was I supposed to find my own dinner in the kitchen? Whatever servants remained at the castle—if any—still hadn’t made their presence known, but when I passed the formal dining room on my way to the kitchen I noticed the table set for two with elegant china and cutlery and crystal, though the lit candelabras offered little in terms of light.
It all looked too stately by far. And somehow too intimate.
I glanced down at the dress I’d donned that morning, now streaked with dust, and wondered if I was expected to change for dinner. Maybe there was something more appropriate inside my bedroom armoire. I wasn’t fond of wearing dresses but I had little choice without returning to the town for my clothes.
Part of me squirmed at the thought. The prospect of returning to Bellmare and facing the stares of the townspeople—or worse, Gray and his ardent attention—sounded sickening. I decided I’d write a note to my mother and brother just to let them know I was all right. At least for now. Who knew how long this might take, or when Prince Merek might decide to throw me out or throw me in the dungeon forever. But at least I wanted Patricia and Thomas to know that I hadn’t just vanished. Yet.
How to get that note delivered to them was the question. Would Merek even allow it? Savory
aromas wafted to me from the various covered dishes on the sideboard. Surely Marek hadn’t cooked all this himself. And I doubted he engaged a catering service. That thought made me smile, glad that I could still find some humor in the situation. Still, I thought, sobering again, this must mean there was at least one servant, and possibly more, no matter if they remained invisible. Perhaps I could persuade one of them to take a note to my mother.
I was parched, my throat dry from breathing in dust from the library. I spied a beautiful silver teapot on the dining table, a thin trickle of steam rising from the spout. Good. Still hot, still fresh. I took a seat and prepared to help myself, protocol be damned.
“You see,” Merek said suddenly from behind me, startling me so much I nearly dropped the teapot, “life here is not as bad as people have made it out to be. I’m sure you’ve heard rumors of the decadence and irregularities in this castle.”
I steadied my hands and poured tea into a delicate porcelain teacup as he sat next to me at the head of the long table. I added a bit of sugar into the tea before taking a sip and letting the warm liquid glide down my throat. Apple and mint and a hint of spice I could not name. It had been a long time since I’d had a cup of tea quite this good, with the sort of rich and robust flavor only money could procure. I took another sip before answering him.
“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
“The people of Bellmare. I’m sure they have nothing but terrible things to say about me. About the castle and the servants who still work for me. Forced labor, you are no doubt thinking. But rest assured I pay them well.” Merek shifted in his seat, his claws faintly tapping against the silver teapot as he poured himself a cup—an oddly elegant gesture.
Hmm. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was concerned with what the townsfolk thought. With what I thought. “Actually, I haven’t heard much at all. More than likely, considering I was responsible, most decided it was safer to keep me in the dark. I didn’t even know whether you were living here or not. Whether you even lived or—” I broke off quickly, took another long sip, hoping it would lessen the sudden flush across my cheeks.
Merek watched my every movement, his eyes keen. His expression inscrutable. The beast missed nothing. “I admit I’ve taken a step back from ruling and being in public since…this happened. But the villagers silent? It makes no sense.”
“I wasn’t exactly well liked in town,” I confessed. “I am not the type of person others would stop on the street and voice their opinions to or even stop for idle chitchat. More, I was the one they spoke about in hushed whispers or under their breath. I heard nothing about you until…until the day I came here to help.”
He gave a low grunt. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. I am more surprised that you and I are seated together having dinner without wanting to kill each other.” His scowl didn’t lighten as he idly fiddled with the cuffs of his sleeves. “Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined such a scenario.”
What I wouldn’t give to see him crack a smile. I stifled a sigh, hoping I could find a way to reverse the curse soon. To give this man back his life.
My empty stomach took that moment to remind me, rather loudly and insistently, that I needed food. I clapped a hand to my belly, mortified, and hoped he hadn’t heard it.
He gave no indication that he had. But two seconds later he turned his head and sniffed at the air in the direction of the sideboard. “Roast beef, I do believe. My, this is a special occasion.” He rose and came behind my chair, pulling it gently back so I might rise. “Might I offer you—er… Please help yourself to anything you like.” An arm out indicating the covered dishes and a swift, shallow bow were my invitation to provide for myself.
And yet there was something curiously tender about that. For all that he hated me for what I’d done to him, inherent good manners yet lingered beneath the beast-like exterior.
So he wasn’t completely devoid of humanity. That gave me tremendous hope.
“You know,” he said after we had both filled our plates and returned to the table, “perhaps the villagers’ silence and indifference are for the best. They’ve allowed me to slip into the shadow of obscurity, which oddly enough brings with it a degree of dignity I lost the moment the spell turned me.” A little shrug of those mighty shoulders. “Wishful thinking, at any rate. I’d have been a terrible ruler.”
I found myself at a loss for words. What could I possibly say to him now? Although I was determined not to leave until I found a way to remove the curse, there was no guarantee. We could both be trapped here indefinitely. I wondered how he’d managed to carve out a somewhat normal life for himself despite these abnormal circumstances. I wondered what he’d done between the spellcasting until now. What he’d filled his days with while his people governed themselves.
“You aren’t the least bit curious what they’ve done in your absence?” I asked him at last.
He scowled and growled. “Are you now going to lecture me on all the things I should have done instead of wallowing in self-pity?”
I swallowed a sip of tea and shook my head. “Not in the least. I am asking for your honest opinion.”
“Hmm.” Merek leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest, muscles bulging over the rough tunic someone must have knitted for him since his transformation. “May I admit something to you, Miss Barnes?”
I wasn't sure I’d ever get used to hearing my name coming from his misshapen lips. “By all means.”
“You aren’t the same person I remember.”
That gave me a start. “What do you mean? I—” Then I snapped my mouth shut, waiting for him to continue.
“Your memory loss must have affected your personality in only the best way. Here we are, able to sit together through a polite dinner without a heated, passionate debate in which you lose your head. You are calm and collected and a little intimidated. I find the combination…intoxicating.”
I gripped the handle of my teacup to keep from chucking it at him. Damn his smugness. “I love how you can sit there and mock me when you clearly have the upper hand in this situation. You remember everything and I nothing. It doesn’t seem fair to me. And before you lecture me on fairness, know that I have already considered that before speaking just now.”
I wanted information about my past and instead I got a personality comparison. Which at the moment was hardly helpful.
“You are a witch. Can’t you spell yourself to remember?” Merek said tartly.
Oh yeah, sure, an easy way out. “No.” I spoke through gritted teeth. “I can’t, because if I could have, I would have done it by now. Clearly.”
“What the hell do you mean?”
A small voice warned me to keep the information to myself, to not admit my vulnerability to him. I plunged ahead anyway. “My magic disappeared along with my memories.” I tensed, waiting for a snide retort and hearing none. “I can do small things, most of the time without truly thinking about them, but I know no spells. If you asked me to levitate this table the odds are very good that I would fail miserably.”
“You have no magic now?” he asked slowly, incredulously.
His gaze raked over me and I wanted to squirm in my chair. When I almost cracked the teacup, I set it back down on the table and folded my hands on my lap. A million questions raced through my mind, along with a million excuses that had no bearing in this situation. “None to speak of, at least.”
“How interesting.” Merek chuckled.
“What is?” I snapped.
“All this time I assumed you were lying to me.” He took another sip of his tea, the tiny fragile cup looking incongruous in his massive paw. “I thought you were still playing the game you started when we first met. This strange cat-and-mouse where we both try to gain the upper hand with extravagant statements, some true, some false. I felt this was the next step in your game where you thought to take advantage of me with fake ignorance. As though you wanted me to feel sorry for you.”
&
nbsp; I was enough of a wreck at the moment without adding psychological games to the mix. “Why would I? I have nothing to hide from you,” I replied.
Merek finally relented. “You want to know about the first day we met? Fine. I rode in my carriage down through Bellmare on a goodwill trip, to see the town, to see the people. It was my first official trip to visit the people I would lead without either of my parents present. I’d been too busy being an irresponsible gadabout and it took me a long time to gather myself together, to acknowledge my responsibility. To prepare myself to one day receive the crown. The future king? Me?”
He almost scoffed at that and I clenched my fists in my lap, clinging to every word of his tale.
“At any rate,” he continued, “it was time I grew up. To have a real look at the kingdom I would one day inherit. As you no doubt realized, it is not a terribly far trip to Bellmare, though it was the last village I visited on my, shall we say, goodwill junket.” He twirled his fork around absently. “I found the town charming, the village green suitable, and the fountain in need of a good scrubbing. Then I saw you there in the square and you were so beautiful in your blue dress. So beautiful.”
My blood warmed as I reached again for the teacup, running my fingers idly along the rim lined with gold. “Blue dress? You remember even such small details?” I asked cautiously.
“Oh yes. I do. They are burned into my memory and impossible to forget. A blue dress, yes, evidently one you’d managed to save before the bank foreclosed and took possession of everything. I didn’t know about all of your family’s misfortunes until later when I made inquiries. At that moment, I only knew I was very much taken with your beauty. You were the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. So beautiful,” he said and paused, his lips curling into a smirk at the end, “but cold. Cruel.”
