by M. Lynn
“Of course he did.” Alex rubbed his chin. Lord Leroy had been pushing them together since Amalie came for the ball more than a month before. Her sister had been sent back to her husband, but the younger girl was forced to stay. Leroy probably thought Alex was going to back out of the betrothal.
He had to admit, it’d crossed his mind. He’d even planned the words he’d use. But that was when he thought he wanted to be with Etta. Now he didn’t know what he wanted, but the kingdom needed a queen.
“Would you like me to leave, si—Alex?”
Guilt warred inside of him as he watched her guarded expression. He’d never treated her poorly, but he hadn’t exactly been kind either. And she was still young. Like his brother.
That thought kicked him in the gut and he leaned forward with his hands on his knees. His brother was wholly unprepared to be out in the world, magic or no. Part of Alex knew he’d never see Tyson again. Another part told him to do anything he could to change that.
But he was king and must rule a kingdom that harbored an extreme hate for magic. Weeks ago, he’d hated it as well. Then he learned three of the people he loved most in the world had a power he couldn’t have even imagined.
“Are you okay?” Amalie asked tentatively.
He straightened and closed his eyes for a brief moment, breathing deeply. “No.”
“Oh.” Her lips pursed. “Okay then.”
“Would you walk with me, Amalie?” He told himself it was because he’d feel bad about sending her away, but in that moment, the truth was he couldn’t bear to be alone.
She nodded and looped her arm through his when he held it out to her. Her loose fitting, yellow dress blew in the wind as it whipped through the streets. Their steps took them through the outer castle grounds.
Neither of them spoke as Alex led them to his favorite spot. Near the abandoned North tower, there were steps leading up to a section of the wall. In war, archers lined the top. In peace, there was nothing but ghosts.
Alex helped Amalie up the steps. Her breath caught as she took in the view of Gaule.
“Stunning, isn’t it?” Alex asked.
“Sometimes I forget about the Gaule that exists beyond the walls of the castle or my father’s estate.”
He dropped her arm and sat atop the wall. She lowered herself beside him and took off her shoes to place them next to her.
“I don’t spend much time out there either,” he admitted.
“But you’re the king. Surely you could if you wanted to.”
He laughed harshly. “You’d be surprised how little freedom I have.”
She smiled sadly and raised her eyes to the horizon where the sun was beginning to set. The Black Forrest stretched toward the edge of their view and memories assaulted Alex. He couldn’t escape them.
“I went into the Black Forrest,” he said. “Even spent the night in there.”
Amalie’s eyes widened and her tiny mouth fell open. “That must have been terrifying.”
Alex shook his head as images flashed in his mind. Etta standing before him, vulnerable. Her blond hair shining as slivers of moonlight illuminated the night. They’d just escaped the attack on the village and yet, he couldn’t remember a night so insanely perfect.
“There’s this part of the woods where bright flowers decorate the ground as far as the eye can see. I’ve never seen anything as magnificent as I did that night.”
“Is everything we’ve been told a lie?” she asked.
His eyebrows knitted together. “What do you mean?”
“The Black Forrest is not a place of nightmares. The people we’ve trusted are not what they seem. Magic… it’s not really evil, is it?” Tears shone in her eyes and she wiped them away quickly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be saying this to the king.”
Something in her eyes told him to trust her and he was desperate for anyone to trust. He put his hand over hers. “I don’t know.”
“I know some people with magic are bad, horrible people. La Dame is evil. But Tyson… Do you miss him?”
“Every day.”
“I was there when he found out about his magic.”
Alex turned to her. “How? You didn’t come until the ball.”
She smiled sadly. “No, your Majesty. The ball was the first time you noticed I was here. I’d been living at my father’s palace residence for months.” She studied her hands. “I may have been avoiding you.”
“Why?” When she continued to look down, he hooked his fingers beneath her chin and tilted her head up. “Why?”
Truth warred in her eyes before it finally broke free. “I don’t want to marry you.”
He took his hand away and released a low chuckle. “Is that all?”
“Sire… Alex, we are betrothed. We don’t have a choice in that. The ceremony was done when we were children. It is binding in the laws of Gaule.”
“I know.”
They were quiet for a long moment before her voice broke through again. “Do you think Tyson is okay?”
“I have to believe he is. And don’t forget, Edmund is with him.”
She blew out a heavy breath. “I wish Etta still was.” Her eyes widened at her own words. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I know she’s the daughter of Viktor Basile. Like I said before, some magic is evil.”
Her words didn’t sit well with him. He’d never even seen Etta’s magic. She’d never used it on him or anyone in the castle. Was it evil?
The words were out before he could stop them. “I loved her.”
She slid closer and tucked her arm into his. “I know.”
“You do?”
“Everyone in the palace knew. I’m so sorry, Alex.”
“As my betrothed, aren’t you supposed to be jealous?” He laughed at the ridiculousness of it all.
“I loved Tyson.” She sighed. “I do love him, present tense. You should have seen him when he first used his power. He was so happy. I pretend he still is, and that smile haunts my dreams.” She peered up at him. “Do you still love her?”
Words caught in his throat, thickening his voice. He shook his head. “I can’t.”
“Loving someone is something you can always do. It’s the hate that takes effort.”
“You’re not nearly as shy as you seem to be.”
She smiled. “And you’re not as frightening. Can I give you a piece of advice?”
He nodded.
“Release the queen mother from her confinement. I’ve been spending time with her in her rooms and I think you could both use each other.”
“You’re right. She’s all I have now.”
Amalie squeezed his arm. “Not all. Whatever the future holds for our marriage, right now we can be friends.”
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “I could use a friend.”
Chapter Two
“Persinette,” a tiny voice whispered from the cell next to hers. “Are you awake?”
Etta crawled toward the far wall. She couldn’t see those on the other side, but it helped to feel close to the other magic folk being held in the cells.
Henry and Analise shared a cell next to hers and at times, they were the ones who kept her going.
They were her people.
They knew who she was and the hope they’d spoken of in those first days still burned in her mind.
“Henry.” She placed a palm against the stone. “Are you okay?”
“Yea, I just wanted to hear your voice.” A beat of silence stretched between them. “I’m scared.”
Her breath shook as she blew it out. “You listen to me,” she said. “We’re going to be okay.”
In the weeks since her arrest, Etta had learned a lot about the people held in the dungeons.
Footsteps echoed through the cavernous halls and Etta scurried back into the corner of her cell.
“No,” Henry yelled before they could see the visitor. “Leave her alone.”
“Henry, don’t,” Etta called. She couldn’t hav
e Geoff or Lance’s wrath fall on the boy.
Henry tried to yell again, but his words were cut off as Analise quieted him. Geoff hadn’t been there in over a day and he was due. But these steps were off; they weren’t made by heavy boots. Etta listened closer and when the queen mother rounded the corner, she leaped to her feet, regretting it instantly.
Nausea overwhelmed her, and she doubled over as a wave of dizziness threatened to drag her under its current.
“Persinette.” Her name was a whisper on Queen Catrine’s lips.
Etta collapsed onto her knees and raised her eyes to take in the familiar woman, relief surging through her. She’d been prepared for another beating.
“Your Majesty,” Etta croaked. “You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t bow.”
The breath hissed from the queen mother’s lips as she stepped closer. The orange glow from the lantern in her hand struck Etta, illuminating the discolored skin where old bruises faded and new ones stood dark.
“Alex promised me he’d ordered you to be made comfortable.”
Hearing his name sent a chill over Etta. “Don’t I look comfortable?” She waved a hand around her bare cell. “Your son would like nothing more than to see me sent to the hangman.”
“That isn’t true.”
“I’m surprised to see you. It’s been weeks since I was put here.”
“Oh, Etta.” Catrine sighed. “You must feel so abandoned. I hadn’t forgotten about you. Alex has had me confined to my rooms for concealing your identity and your magic from him. He released me tonight.”
Etta collapsed back onto her heels. “I should have known. The curse exists for a reason. The Durands and Basiles have always been enemies. How could I let myself trust a Durand?”
“My son is not like his ancestors.”
“Your son has kept me locked in here. He’s had me beaten again and again.” She scooted toward the cell bars to look into the queen mother’s face. “If he ever lets me out of here, I’ll kill him.”
A smile tilted one corner of Catrine’s mouth. “I’m glad to see this place hasn’t broken you, Etta.”
“No matter what you people do to me, you won’t break me.” She raised an arm to point one finger to her head as she struggled to stand. “Bela exists in here. It goes beyond physical pain. It’s who we are.” Anger rushed through her and she sucked in a breath. “Bela is everywhere. In your villages. In your armies. We’re hidden and we’re ready. We’re tired of persecution. Bela is coming for you and you don’t stand a chance.”
Catrine seemed unaffected by the words. “You should take the king’s deal.”
“I know nothing of any deal.” Confusion tempered her anger.
“He’s been offering it to you for weeks—since the day after you were brought here. He wants you moved to your rooms in the palace and you have been refusing. He only asks for your cooperation in the war that’s coming.”
Etta stared at the queen mother in blank accusation. She stepped toward the bars. “You Durands might have shifting loyalties, but I’m a Basile and I won’t leave my people in these cells. I will suffer what they suffer. You can’t take that from me.”
Catrine lifted her chin and scanned Etta’s cage with a shake of her head. “We could be great allies, Persinette. I know the stories. A fully powered Basile can defeat La Dame.”
Etta’s stomach clenched. She’d thought of little else since her imprisonment, but she was not who they wanted her to be. She gestured to her surroundings. “Do I look fully powered?”
“No.” Catrine’s dark eyes bore into Etta’s. “But your words are that of a queen.” She turned and left, her steps echoing through the stone prison long after she was gone.
Etta laid back against the cool floor and looked up to the pitch-black ceiling. Catrine’s plea had been desperate but Etta wasn’t ready to give in.
“Etta?” Henry asked after a while.
“Yeah?”
“Are you our queen?”
If it hadn’t been for the curse, she’d have been born in the palace of Bela and raised to rule. Instead, all she could do for her people was stay in that cell in solidarity with them. Her one act of loyalty was to be a symbol. But she wanted to do more, give them something to fight for. Something to believe in. Whether the Belaen people ever had true freedom or not, it could never be taken from them.
She rolled over. “Yes, Henry. I am your queen.”
Maybe she wasn’t born to serve the curse. If she made it out of the dungeons, she’d lead her people against those who would oppress them.
But she’d practically declared war on Gaule, so who was she kidding?
She’d never make it out.
Alex enjoyed spending time with Amalie. She reminded him of his brother. Amalie began accompanying him to many of his meetings and helping with kingly duties. She was especially good with the people, a skill he sometimes lacked. She was going to make a good queen, and that thought sent his head spinning.
Her arrow flew wide of the target, yet again, as he attempted to instruct her.
“Brother,” Camille said, joining them. She gave Amalie a harsh look that was then turned on Alex.
“What is it, Camille?” he asked.
“Why did you send Anders to the border?”
“I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
She huffed. “He’s the captain of your guard.”
“And he’ll serve me well at the border.”
She stepped closer and leaned in, dropping her voice. “You’re going to regret this.”
“Watch yourself, sister.” He stepped back. “Dine with me this evening. I think it’s time we discuss an advantageous marriage.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re eighteen years old. It is time.”
“What about your marriage?” She eyed Amalie.
Alex sighed. “Amalie has a few more years before she is of age.”
“I’m not leaving the palace. I’m next in line to your throne.”
“And you can be next in line from your husband’s estate. The matter is decided, Camille.”
She narrowed her eyes and used her cane to push Amalie aside so she could hobble across the training yard in a rush of fury.
A piercing pain shot through Alex’s skull and he cried out. His guards came running as he doubled over and the pain traveled down through his abdomen.
“Your Majesty,” one of his guards said, gripping his arm. “Is everything okay?”
Alex shook his head. “I need the healer.”
“The royal healer went with the troops.”
“Then take me to the outer castle.” He gritted his teeth as his head throbbed like he’d smacked it against a wall.
His legs were suddenly too weak to support him, so his guards lifted him and rushed out of the inner palace and through the streets. Amalie followed close behind.
By the time they arrived at the healer’s shop, Alex could barely lift his head. They barged through the door and a dark-skinned man jumped to his feet.
“What is this?” he asked, eying the guard’s uniforms. He stepped closer. “Your Majesty? Put him there.” He pointed to a bed along one wall.
The guards set Alex down and pain shot through him. His breath came out in short pants as he grit his teeth to keep a scream at bay.
The healer shooed the others out. “You can remain, my dear,” he said to Amalie. “Tell me what happened.”
She wrung her hands together. “We were practicing archery and then suddenly he was overtaken with pain.”
Cool fingers pressed against his forehead and the healer spoke. “No fever. Good. We can begin to rule out illness as the cause of your pain.” He leaned in toward Alex’s face and seemed to be examining one spot.
“Why is it red?” Amalie asked.
The healer straightened and stepped back to run a hand through his hair. Alex watched him with glazed eyes. What did he know? There was fear in his voice.
Another presence entered t
he room.
“Father,” the girl snapped. “What is he doing here?”
Alex recognized that voice, but he couldn’t place it. All his mind could focus on was the pain.
“I couldn’t turn the king away,” the healer whispered to his daughter.
“You should have.”
“No,” he said. “Don’t you see what this is?”
The next time the healer spoke, it was to Alex. “Sire, can you describe what has happened.”
Alex groaned. “I get these sudden bouts of pain and weakness. I’ve never experienced anything so horrid as these last few weeks.”
“This is not the first time this has happened?” the healer asked.
“No. Sometimes I wake up in pain, other times it hits randomly.”
“No,” the familiar girl sobbed. “What are they doing to her?”
Her words made no sense.
The healer shook his head. “This is why you should have left me there, Maiya. That girl is too important.”
“Father, I couldn’t.”
“You betrayed your people. I won’t say you didn’t.”
Maiya hiccupped back another sob.
“What’s wrong with him?” Amalie asked.
Both father and daughter flinched as if forgetting they weren’t alone. The healer thought for a moment. “I have a tonic that will help for the time being but it won’t prevent it from happening again.”
He went to a table laden with bottles and began to mix them. “It will also put you to sleep so you’ll be spending the night here.”
He turned to Amalie. “Dear, you can return to your residence. We have him from here.”
Amalie hesitated before nodding. She brushed a hand over the top of Alex’s head. “Feel better.”
When she was gone, the healer helped Alex sit up, and he was face to face with the healer’s daughter. It was her. The girl from the village. The one who’d turned Etta in. If he’d had any energy, he’d despise her for taking his Etta away, even if that girl never existed.
But she’d also helped him during the village attack. “It seems you save me once again.”
Maiya smiled sadly, tears still hanging in her lashes.
