The Cursed Girl, #1

by Maria Vermisoglou

  “You could enjoy the food every day if you like.”

  He was not serious, was he? But when I looked at his face, he was serious. “Do you make the same offer to everyone or just me?”

  He didn’t hesitate. “Just you.”

  I looked into his eyes—big mistake. His eyes were like blue crystal pools. I took a deep breath and said, “Then I decline.”

  He was taken aback by that. “Why?”

  He really didn’t get it.

  “Because I help the poor. I don’t enjoy the riches.”

  He looked thoughtful. “What do you mean?”

  Was he stupid? “Why would I enjoy something good every day when there are so many poor and sick who can’t? You don’t understand and you never will. Ask Alec. He does. He goes to the village every day and knows how many people are sick and if there is something new.”

  He looked pained for a moment. Well, that wasn’t my fault. The truth was sometimes ugly. If you didn’t like it, change it.

  “How is your arm?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

  “It’s fine, I’ve had worse.” He said it like it was something unimportant. “Why do you hate me?”

  I looked at him and smiled. “I don’t hate you. I hate all the royals. Except Alec and your mother. You might be like them one day, but you are not there yet. You should try harder to see what’s out there. Inside these walls is like a cage. It conceals you and it blinds you to the real world.”

  “Why do you hate royals so much?”

  I raised my eyes to meet his; that was not good. He just wanted to understand, but I always got heated up as Ritta said. “Because you are indifferent, you think we are pests, you don’t care for us. The only moment you acknowledge us is in big wars when your army is not enough. We die and you don’t care because you are safe in the palace with the servants granting your every wish.”

  He looked like I had hit him with a sword. He took a seat near me and said, “I didn’t know it was like that. I am not like that. I care about my people, but as you said, I have a long road to walk. I try to learn and be good to my people so when I become a king I will be better than my father.”

  I closed my eyes. I was stupid. How could I forget? He had lost his father and come here for company, and I was criticizing him. “I am sorry about your father.” I didn’t know anything about their relationship or how he treated his family, but I wanted him to know how sorry I was that I haven’t saved him. When I opened my eyes, I saw him staring at me.

  “How do you do that? You are angry at the royals, and yet you console me for the death of my father whom you despised. Why do you do that?”

  “Because it is the right thing to do. When someone loses someone he loves, you have to be there for that person. That is what I am sorry means for me, and I didn’t despise him—just the way he ruled over poor people.” I paused and then I added, “I am not angry at the royals. I am furious at them.”

  He smiled at me. “You are a weird girl.”

  I raised my eyebrows, but before I could ask what he meant a knock sounded and a servant rushed inside. The servant stood near Jonathan, whispered something to him, and then left the same way he had entered.

  Jonathan got up. “As much as I would like to stay all day, I have to leave you to work with my uncle. Since I am too young to rule, my uncle takes over for now until I am old enough to rule. And sadly, women can’t rule, although I think my mother would do a spectacular job.”

  I smiled. “There might be hope for you yet.”

  He gave me a proud look. “I’ll let you rest and come to see you later,” he promised.

  “I might not be here when you return,” I said with a hint of a smile.

  “Then I know where I can find you, and you can return to your shop.”

  I stared at him. “My shop was closed by the king... and I can no longer open it until further orders.”

  He smiled secretly at me. “Well, since no one knows about it but you and me, I don’t see the reason why you can’t open it.”

  I stared at him and then I understood. What had he done? “You made an official paper disappear?”

  He shrugged. “It wasn’t an important one.”

  “You disobeyed direct orders from the king—”

  “They weren’t direct orders, and I have a way with little things.”

  Why did he keep interrupting me? “And for a girl that doesn’t like you either.”

  A thoughtful expression crossed his face. “That would be a wrong assumption. We are like the stars and the moon.”

  Did he compare us to soul mates? I was getting furious. “If you had been a normal person—one of your peasants as you call them—” I said, gritting my teeth, “you could have been thrown in jail or hung for disobedience.”

  He smirked. “That proves that you like me.”

  I was fuming now and tried hard to keep my voice even. “I do not like you. Are you stupid?”

  He gave me a funny look. “Opposites attract.”

  That was it. I threw my pillow at him, and he ducked and left laughing. I was so furious. Who did he think he was? Yes, he was the prince, but that didn’t mean he was above everyone else. Did he think I was a toy? But he was partially right. In a way, I did like him. But I did not love him. No, I did not. However, the more I tried to avoid him, the more I failed. Why? I didn’t want to see him die while I would live for years. I would be all alone with nothing but memories of him chasing me every moment for the rest of my life. I got dressed and looked through my basket. Fortunately, nobody had touched it.

  The door opened and Ritta and my mother entered smiling. “I see you are feeling better already,” said my mother.

  “And you already had breakfast,” added Ritta.

  “A full, rich breakfast. It’s a pity you didn’t come earlier. You would have enjoyed it.”

  She took my arm and said, “Ah. I will when you become princess.”

  I laughed. The thought was ridiculous. “Me? Princess? No way. You must be confusing me with somebody else.”

  We continued arguing for a few minutes until my mother interrupted our arguing as we prepared to leave the palace. “The palace had been quieter than before and there are white rags hanged everywhere. There are white rags on the mirrors and doors, and even on the chandeliers.”

  “Why are there white rags everywhere?” I asked, confused.

  “When someone grieves, they wear black clothes and hang white rags to let others know they lost someone they cared about.”

  “And why let the others know?”

  My mother shrugged. “It’s traditional you could say. It’s a common thing and everyone does it.”

  Weird. We wore black for hunting so no one could easily spot us. For funerals, we wore something in the colors of nature—usually brown or deep green—but nothing too bright. When we walked out of the palace and took the main road, I took a deep breath. This black atmosphere was starting to get to me.

  “I heard the brother of the king will rule temporarily until the king’s son takes over. It’s a pity women can’t rule. I liked the queen. She would have been a better ruler than a man,” said Ritta.

  “Yes, she would,” my mother said.

  When we arrived at home, Ritta said, “It’s time to work.”

  My face brightened. I had told them about my conversation with Jonathan, but I had left some details out. Ritta had not made any of her typical replies, which was strange. She could have accepted my decision or she was “cooking” something. “Oh, right. I can go back to my shop.”

  Ritta held out a hand to stop me. “Not that kind of work. Besides, all work has stopped for ten days because of the grieving.”

  “Ten days? Are they serious? I have to help people. Heal them. Diseases don’t wait.”

  She smiled sadly. “I know, but they know your house, so they can come if it’s something urgent, and they know now that the shop is open.”

  Before we had gone home, we had stopped by my
shop, and I had put a paper on the shop’s door letting everyone know that I would be opening soon.

  “The work I proposed is this.” She took me to my room, and I saw three piles of books. Ritta grinned. “All from the library. Since you are still in recovery, I thought I could bring something to figure out what happened.”

  I shot her an angry look. “I hate you.”

  She smiled as she handed me a book. “You love me.”

  The Library

  After days of going through books, we admitted defeat. When I was well enough, we had gone to the White Land. We had read every single book in the library, and all we had found was a single helpful paragraph—love and friendship can beat even the darkest enemies. So we searched love and friendship but found nothing helpful. Then we searched the auras and powers, but nothing stood out.

  In the end, we asked the librarian, and after several minutes of thinking she said, “You should seek out special books.”

  “What now?” Ritta asked.

  The librarian said, “We don’t store all our books here. There is a special area for witches who seek special things, but we don’t grant access to everybody.” I didn’t like where this was heading. If there was a forbidden area, then how come no one knew about it? And why was there a forbidden area at all? Wasn’t knowledge free for all?

  The librarian answered my unasked questions. “There is some knowledge that is very dark and therefore forbidden. Spells that can cost lives if casted. Curses that can turn light into darkness. Only I know where they are hidden because I am Heather, the guardian of knowledge. Tell me what you seek, and I will decide whether you should be granted access.”.

  I laced my fingers, closed my eyes, and told her why we were here—my weird powers, my hidden aura, the black knight and how I saved the people I loved. I wasn’t afraid that she would tell anyone because librarians were only to store knowledge and help with research. After I finished my story, we were silent for a moment.

  The librarian stared at me. “Interesting. That is very interesting.”

  Ritta and I exchanged looks.

  “That is absolutely interesting.” For a librarian, she didn’t have an extensive vocabulary if all she could keep saying was “interesting.”

  “Excuse me, but what is so interesting, madam?” Ritta asked.

  “I have heard myths about what you describe me, but I never knew it existed until now,” the librarian said excited. “Come with me.” She took a silver key from her pocket, put it in the air, and turned it.

  Even though we couldn’t see a door, we knew one had opened when we saw another room. She stepped inside, and we had no other choice but to follow. Holding hands, Ritta and I stepped into the other room. It was like stepping through fire: warm and hot, bright and burning.

  The room was like a church but three times bigger. The whole building, even the chairs and the chandeliers, was made of glass. Where were we? Books were everywhere. Some flew through the air while others were in bases and in the countless bookstands. Displayed in showcases were mystical objects and scrolls. I had never seen so many scrolls.

  “Where are we?” Ritta said in awe.

  The librarian turned and I saw she had changed clothing. Her normal dress was now a fancy dress. It was bright yellow like the sun, and she had a cape around her.

  “What happened to your clothes?”

  Heather smiled. “You are in the Library of Light. So, I must be appropriately dressed.”

  Weird. “Is there a library for the other side too? Are you changing outfit for the bad side too?”

  She nodded. “I am afraid there is. My dress is purple with a black cape.”

  I smiled. I was starting to like her.

  “Always in style. I like yellow,” Ritta said.

  “Me too.” The librarian beamed.

  Well, look who found a friend. Ritta nudged me. “So, what are we looking for?”

  Heather went to take a silver book with a golden cover from a golden base. She opened it and the pages turned themselves like the book knew what we were seeking. The pages were silver, and it was like the silver was pouring from them. No wonder they guarded these books; they were priceless.

  Heather put the book onto a table and started to read. “At first there was the Sun and the Moon, and from them, the First People were created. They had the same abilities, but each one had a special and unique ability, and they helped create our world bit by bit. But like all civilizations, the First People faced a crisis—an Evil force that couldn’t be defeated.

  “For that purpose, they created two humans with all the First Peoples’ abilities, and they were the two witches from which we all are born. The witches battled the Evil force. The battle was fierce and every time an attack was deflected it created something living: plants, flowers, rainbows. It looked like the Evil was going to win, but in that moment, the witches put all their faith in the world, in peace, love, and friendship, and a miracle happened. The ultimate witch appeared, and with a wave of her hand, the Evil perished.”

  We were stunned. I had never heard that story before. Why? What danger did it have? Why were we told that we were created from the Nothing?

  “I don’t understand. If that’s a true story, then why we are told that we are created from the Nothing?” Ritta asked.

  Heather looked at us sadly. “Because in a way it is the truth. After that, the First People lived many happy years, but after a while, they started forgetting about the ultimate witch and the witches who helped them. They even started to forget themselves and became nothing and we called it the Nothing. We didn’t want to influence witches so they would become evil; it was only for your protection.”

  And they accuse humans of lying. “So we are born from the Nothing?”

  Heather smiled. “The first witches were created from the Nothing.” This was all very strange, but I still didn’t understand what it had to do with me. “What has that got to do with me?”

  Ritta looked sad. “And what happened to the witches?”

  “The two witches left the First Peoples’ planet and found a new one, and they called it the White Land because it was white like the moon. There, generation after generation of witches battled evil and lived happily with their duty to protect the Earth from outside forces. The ultimate witch vanished, but from time to time, she would appear when called in times of great danger. She was never the same person because witches don’t live forever, and her heirs are recognized by their uncontrollable powers and their mark. Although, no one has lived on Earth until now.”

  I was in shock, and pain whipped through my body. Shooting me with an arrow would have been less painful.

  “No. I can’t be one of her heirs. Yes, I have uncontrollable powers, but that doesn’t mean I am one of them.” I shook my head in disbelief. “And I have no marks!” I was getting tired of everyone saying I was special. Like the incident with the knight, wasn’t enough or my life in general.

  Heather pointed at my shoulder where my birthmark was. My birthmark was shaped like a star. The silver color of it was so realistic it was almost as though someone had melted real silver, formed a star and put it on my shoulder.

  “That is just a myth. It isn’t confirmed. I don’t want to be special; I just want to have a simple life. Why don’t you leave me alone?”

  Heather looked at me sadly. “You can’t change who you are or who you are going to become.”

  Ritta stepped forward and I was glad for this. “What she will become?”

  Heather looked at me with a light in her eyes. “A princess.”

  No. That was too much. “A princess? Are you joking? I don’t want to be a princess. I want to have a simple life with simple things and my cat. Is that too much to ask?”

  Sadness filled Heather’s voice. “Whether you want it or not, you will become a princess. It is your fate.”

  I was angry, so angry that the objects started rattling inside their showcases. “I make my own destiny. No one tells me what to
do.”

  Ritta put her hand on my shoulder. “We should leave.” I let Ritta lead me back to the main library. We left the library and the White Land. If Ritta hadn’t taken me out of the library, my anger was so strong I might have torn the whole building apart.

  We were almost home and I was still fuming. “Can you believe this?”

  Ritta glanced at me. “Actually, I can. You had powers that no one could explain from the very beginning. But that you would be angry for being special? No, I can hardly believe it.”

  I shot her an angry look. “Is this a joke? Because if anyone wants to take my place, I would gladly give it to her.” Sometimes I wondered how she put up with me.

  “But you can’t give them your powers or abilities. It is you and you will do it very well. Certainly better than the current one who isn’t an heir.”

  I stared at her. “How do you know?”

  She smiled with a conspiratorial smile. “I asked Heather when you were deep in your thoughts. The current princess isn’t an heir, but after the previous princess who was one, they couldn’t find another heir, so they put the ‘winged’ princess on the throne. You sure will do better than her.”

  At that, I had to smile. The current princess usually wore dresses with wings attached to them like she was an angel—more like a chicken it seemed to me. “What if I am like her? What if I don’t do well?”

  Ritta laughed. “You? Like her? Impossible. You couldn’t be like her even if you tried. Trust your friend when I say you will do better than her surely. And I will be with you. You can’t make mistakes with me on your side.” She smiled and headed to the market stalls while I took the street to my home.

  I didn’t have a long way to go when a woman stopped me.

  “A reading, miss?” A tarot reading—I hated those. Whoever invented tarots must have wanted to make our lives miserable. Tarots were dangerous because they were speaking the truth, and no matter what you did, you could never change them. People around the village didn’t know how to tell them very well, so there was not much harm.