Downfall of the Curse

by Deborah Grace White

  The king described in curt detail the incident that had taken place, and the shock in the room turned quickly to alarm. To Lucy’s embarrassment, she found herself flooded with expressions of gratitude, even the unapproachable Queen Verena thanking her earnestly. There were many outraged comments about how the advanced decay of the stonework could have gone unnoticed, and Lucy found herself frowning.

  She hadn’t been able to bring herself to tell King Giles about her strange observation—she certainly wasn’t going to say it in front of this crowd. But the stonework hadn’t looked deteriorated to her. She had witnessed the fissure appear from nowhere. But how could it have been intentionally done? How could someone set up an attack that relied on so many circumstances conveniently coming together? And fire couldn’t make a stone balcony collapse, anyway. She must have imagined it.

  “What is it, Lucy?”

  She started in surprise at the familiar voice. She hadn’t realized Cody had moved so close. He was looking at her shrewdly. Her doubts must have been more evident on her face than she had intended.

  “Nothing,” she said quickly, communicating with a subtle shake of the head that she didn’t want to discuss it now.

  Cody nodded slowly, accepting the silent command. “Thank goodness you’re all right,” he said, his light tone belied by the worry in his eyes. “Your parents would have killed me if you’d fallen off a balcony on your first day here.”

  “I’m fine,” said Lucy quickly. “I wasn’t in any danger.” She looked up to find Eamon watching her with the same worry line between his eyes that Cody still wore. She wanted to roll her eyes. She wasn’t so fragile.

  With all the kerfuffle, Lucy was starving by the time she actually had the opportunity to eat the elaborate luncheon that had been prepared for them. And it was fortunate she was so hungry, or she might have struggled to do justice to the feast. The food was unfamiliar and, if she was honest, a little unpalatable. But all the guests rose to the occasion, not wanting to give offense.

  The conversation ranged over many topics, and with so many people in the room, Lucy was not part of every discussion. But it seemed most of the group was listening when the dowager queen asked Lucy and Matheus about how their parents were doing.

  “They’re both well, thank you,” said Matheus politely. “Mother especially sends her greetings. She was sorry she couldn’t attend the coronation herself, but she and Father couldn’t get away from Raldon at this time, not with things…” he glanced at Lucy, clearly searching for a diplomatic way to allude to the recent crisis, “…unsettled.”

  “No greetings from your father?” asked Prince Roland, the youngest of the king’s brothers.

  “Oh yes, Father sends his greetings as well, of course,” said Matheus hastily.

  Prince Roland nodded. “I was sad they couldn’t come. I would have liked to have seen Jonan again, as well as Scarlett.” He grinned. “There’s never a dull moment when he’s around.”

  “Yes, well.” King Giles’s voice was dry, and Lucy raised an eyebrow. “It’s not that I don’t want to see Jonan,” he clarified. “It’s been a long time, and I would be glad to meet him again. But his presence in Nohl might be more problematic than usual right now.”

  He cleared his throat. “Recent events in Kyona were…unfortunate, there is no denying.”

  Lucy barely refrained from snorting at this mild description of the devastating effects of the unsanctioned visit of her mother’s brother, Lord Scanlon Wrendal.

  “And I need hardly repeat that Lord Wrendal acted without the knowledge or support of the crown in his schemes against Kyona,” King Giles was continuing. “But nevertheless…there was quite an uproar the previous time your father visited Nohl, not long after he had killed the former Lord Wrendal. For him to visit again now, so soon after the subsequent Lord Wrendal died, also at his hand, might create unnecessary tension between our kingdoms.”

  Lucy had been watching the king with a furrowed brow when he began this speech, but by the end she was looking at her feet, her cheeks flaming and her heart racing. She glanced up to see Eamon’s eyes burning into her, and quickly looked down again. She could feel not only his eyes, but Matheus’s, Jocelyn’s, even Kincaid’s, trained on her face. No one said anything, but she knew what they were all thinking. Every one of those people had been there to see what happened, and they knew perfectly well that contrary to general belief, Lucy’s father had not had any hand in the death of his brother-in-law.

  The conversation mercifully flowed on around her, and she took several deep calming breaths before raising her head to rejoin the discussion. Her fellow visitors were still shooting surreptitious glances at her, and although there was nothing unfriendly in their faces, she still felt tainted by the knowledge they all concealed. She shuddered to think how the Balenan court would respond if they knew what she had done. Perhaps it wouldn’t even be safe for her here. She saw Cody looking between her and the others in evident confusion, but she refused to meet his eyes. He hadn’t been close enough to witness the true cause of Scanlon’s death.

  “Did you say your town is called Raldon?” one of Prince Astor’s sons, a young teenager, was asking Matheus. “I’ve never heard of any place with a name like that.”

  “Oh, um, yes.” Matheus looked as awkward as Lucy felt. “Our mother named it, actually.”

  “How did she come up with it?” asked the boy, apparently oblivious to the discomfort of his distant cousins.

  “Uh…” Matheus looked to Lucy again, but she wasn’t sure what to say either, still rattled from her previous embarrassment. Cody, it appeared, had no such hesitation.

  “She named it after Raldo, a person.” His face was uncharacteristically hard, and he pushed on before anyone could ask for clarification. “He was one of the Kyonan nomads born and raised in the jungle here, outside Nohl.” He met King Giles’s eye with what Lucy thought was a reckless challenge.

  “One of the resistance, I mean. He was one of our key leaders. I suppose you never even knew his name, but in fact he was one of Scar’s closest friends. He was the last Kyonan to be beheaded by the crown before Jonan and Scar broke the curse, and we all sailed back across the sea. I believe if you were to look at the wall in your execution chamber, you would find his name etched there, alongside those of many other good men and women who died for our cause.”

  The Kyonan man paused for a moment, folding his arms across his chest. “You know, the cause of getting free from the tyrannical slavery your kingdom forced us into, for no other reason than being Kyonan.”

  Chapter Four

  Cody’s prolonged speech was met by a silence so deafening that Lucy could have sworn everyone in the room could hear her swallowing convulsively. Lady Rodanthe was frowning slightly in Cody’s direction, and Queen Verena shot her husband a look that contained just the tiniest hint of accusation. It made Lucy suspect there had been some debate about whether to include the untitled, unrelated former slave as part of the formalities.

  Cody stood straight, his expression unyielding as his eyes passed around the group. Lucy felt torn in equal parts between pride at Cody’s fearless confidence, and embarrassment that he was surely fulfilling all the less charitable predictions of the Balenan royals.

  “A dark time in our history, indeed,” said King Giles at last, his tone neither combative nor apologetic.

  It must be a fine line this man had to walk, Lucy reflected, to avoid conflict with Kyona while still keeping his own people happy. Lucy knew that however unjust it might be, many Balenans felt cheated—even attacked—by the departure of the slaves whose unpaid labor had strengthened their economy for generations. And King Giles must be vulnerable to his courtiers’ criticism on a more personal level as well, due to his close relationship to the high-ranking noblewoman who had turned out to be secretly leading the infamous slave resistance for years before her abrupt departure.

  Lucy had often heard her mother comment that she didn’t envy Giles any part of his r
ole. She knew that neither her father, nor any of the former slaves, were impressed by any suggestion that either the Balenan royals, or the kingdom’s population more generally, were deserving of any sympathy whatsoever. But watching the careful way King Giles chose his words, Lucy couldn’t help but see her mother’s point.

  “I imagine I have seen this man’s name on the wall of the execution chamber,” the king was saying. “Although I must confess, it is not familiar to me. There are, as you say,” he nodded to Cody, “many names on the wall.”

  “Indeed,” the dowager queen interjected quickly, “we have all seen them. After Rupert became king, he initiated a program where people—commoners and nobles alike—were encouraged to visit the execution chamber, view the names on the wall, even spend time locked inside, if they chose. The idea was to help people imagine what it would be like to be in another’s shoes. To encourage compassion.” She looked at her eldest son with pride. “It was Giles’s idea.”

  “Is that so, Your Majesty?” Cody’s tone was thoughtful, and Lucy recognized the grudging respect hidden in his words. She was both surprised and impressed herself.

  King Giles inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment of Cody’s question.

  “Did it work?” Lucy asked curiously. “Did it…soften people?”

  The king gave a wry smile. “Its effectiveness was varied.” He shook his head indulgently. “Some of the younger courtiers even went as far as to spend the night in there. It certainly seemed to have a profound impact on them.”

  “I was one of them,” chimed in Prince Roland unexpectedly. “I was young and eager, and thought it would be an adventure.” His look turned more serious. “I will certainly never forget the experience. I can’t imagine what it was like to spend a night in there knowing the blade awaited you in the morning.”

  Cody was watching the other man with a frown, making no effort to hide his surprise. Clearly the Balenan royals were not quite what he had expected.

  “Well,” said Queen Verena, her tone making it clear that the conversation was closed. “We can all be thankful that neither the chamber nor the blade is in use anymore, so that we are free to turn our thoughts to more pleasant topics.” She looked at her husband. “Will this accident with the balcony affect the coronation, do you think?”

  “I can see no reason why it should,” King Giles replied with his usual calm, neither his words nor his tone giving any acknowledgment of the abrupt change of subject. “I have already given orders to have the doorway boarded up so that no one else will be in danger of falling out.” His eyes passed to Lucy, the flicker of a smile on his face. “And thanks to Luciana’s intervention, I am still here to be crowned.”

  Lucy returned the smile awkwardly and was relieved when they were dismissed shortly afterward.

  “Are you really all right, Lucy?” Jocelyn asked quietly as she walked Lucy back to her room, so that she could once again change her dress.

  “Of course I am,” said Lucy bracingly, seeing no need to mention the fact that her arm was still painful from nearly being torn from its socket. “I wasn’t the one to nearly fall to my death.”

  Jocelyn shook her head. “It’s remarkable—and very fortunate—that you happened along when you did.”

  “Yes,” Lucy agreed. “I was lucky to be in the right place at the right time.” She hesitated, debating with herself over whether she should mention the flame that she may or may not have imagined, but she decided against it. “I just hope King Giles won’t make a big deal of it in front of the whole court or anything,” she said anxiously. “I don’t think I want that kind of attention drawn to me.”

  “He won’t,” reassured Jocelyn. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t mention it to anyone else at all.” Lucy looked at her friend skeptically, and Jocelyn smiled. “I know a little of how court works, remember? King Giles needs to look strong. He may seem confident, but Balenol is not like the North Lands. I think in some ways his position as monarch is more precarious than my father’s, or Kincaid’s father’s. I don’t think he would want people to know that he nearly lost his life from something as mundane as falling from a balcony in his own castle.”

  Lucy nodded thoughtfully, sobered by the reminder that there was so much she didn’t know about how royal life worked. She had tried, at one time, to make a study of it, but there were still many things that seemed obvious to Jocelyn yet made no sense to Lucy. Perhaps she had been naive to ever think she could fulfill the role of a princess. It was probably for the best that she no longer aspired to marry Eamon, she told herself, refusing to acknowledge the sharp pain the thought seemed to send through the region of her heart.

  Despite her insistence that she was fine, Lucy felt disproportionately wearied by the events of the day. Immediately after lunch, Lucy received a brief visit from the king’s physician, who declared her arm in no danger of lasting harm. The rest of the afternoon was spent in a tour of the castle that felt endless, and by the time the evening meal arrived, she was exhausted.

  “Does the rain ever stop?” she asked Cody wearily as the visitors made their way to the dining hall to the continued dull pounding on the outside of the stone walls.

  He smiled. “Eventually. For a while. Sometimes we go months with very little rain, but at other times it can rain for days and days without stopping.”

  Lucy looked sideways at him, wondering if he had caught his own slip in referring to Nohl as if it was his home. “That must have been pretty miserable when you were living in the jungle,” she observed.

  Cody chuckled. “Not really. We weren’t out in the open, mostly. But the mud was pretty awful. Still, easier to sneak around the city in a downpour. Everyone can hardly see past the end of their noses.”

  Their conversation was cut off as they reached their destination. Mercifully, they were once again to dine with only the Balenan royal family. From what Lucy knew of court life, she suspected it wasn’t common for the royals to eat in such relative seclusion, and she could only imagine it was a courtesy for the newly arrived guests.

  “I heartily approve of the fact that the official welcome gala isn’t until tomorrow night,” Jocelyn said to the group at large as they were ushered into the dining hall. “An informal, low pressure evening meal on the day of arrival…that’s the way to welcome foreign dignitaries.” She shot Kincaid an impudent look. “Valoria should take a leaf out of Balenol’s book.”

  Kincaid grimaced in acknowledgment of some point Lucy didn’t understand, but he didn’t comment as he took his seat beside his wife at the long table.

  It might just be an intimate family meal, but the dining hall where it was held was still elaborate and impressive. The walls were lined with tapestries, mostly depicting colorful jungle scenes. Lucy recognized the red hibiscus flower that her mother had often described to her, as well as a beautifully woven depiction of the rapids that she knew could be found not far up the river from the city.

  But the real feature wasn’t the tapestries. The room was long and narrow, as though it had been built especially to accommodate the enormous wooden table that extended from one end of the hall to the other. Perhaps unsurprisingly for a kingdom that chiefly traded in timber, the table itself was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship. Its surface gleamed with polish, but the many sturdy legs that held it up were left intentionally unfinished, retaining the appearance of tree trunks. Lucy could only see it once she was sitting down, but the exterior edges of the table were carved with intricate, meaningless patterns.

  The whole thing was impressive, and beautiful in its way, but not exactly warm or homelike. The air was still heavy with moisture, and the room was dim, the torches along the walls doing little to dispel the gloom of the gathering night. Perhaps it was because she was sitting down to eat directly across from a tapestry vividly depicting a jaguar pouncing on a terrified monkey, but the general effect was a little intimidating.

  She joined the conversation mechanically, her mind circling around the following
night’s gala, on the eve of the coronation. She felt apprehensive about being presented to the Balenan court, but there was also a strange stirring of excitement.

  She had always thought of herself as Kyonan, and in her forest town of Raldon, no one questioned that identity. But during her many visits to the capital, Kynton, she had often come up against attitudes like those Sonia and Vanessa had obviously intended her to overhear at the port. Her mixed heritage and darker coloring would always make her a foreigner to some people, regardless of the fact that she had never set foot outside Kyona before she traveled to Valoria a few months ago for Jocelyn’s wedding. And to the stuffier members of King Calinnae’s court, the fact that her mother was a noblewoman by birth counted for nothing. Not only was her mother from a foreign court, she had renounced her title upon marrying Lucy’s very common father, and never looked back.

  The opinions of such people had never mattered much to Lucy as a child. But somehow, as she got older, she realized to her own embarrassment that she did care. She cared far too much. Perhaps it was because she wanted so much for people to see her as they saw her mother—elegant, beautiful, and educated. Or perhaps it was because she started to dream of a future life in the very heart of the court, where her success or otherwise at gaining the people’s respect might very well affect the well-being of the kingdom.

  Not that she had any anticipation of being Kyona’s future queen now.

  Of course not.

  But still, it rankled that to some people, she would never be able to measure up. And although she had never liked being referred to as anything other than Kyonan, she couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel to be among the Balenan court. Here, she was the daughter of a well-known noblewoman, and she looked much like the locals. Her mother might have become infamous due to her activities with the resistance, but if the royals were ready to forgive and forget, perhaps the rest of the court would be, too. And from all she had heard, her mother had been admired to the point of obsession by most of the court before the revelation of her double life.