Downfall of the Curse

by Deborah Grace White

  Kincaid looked surprised by her attire, and Lady Rodanthe pursed her lips slightly, but Jocelyn, Eamon, and Matheus all greeted her without comment, clearly too distracted by other matters to note that her clothes were out of place. It was a testament to how normal it was for women in Raldon to dress in such a fashion.

  “Where have you been all day, Lucy?” asked Jocelyn. “Lady Rodanthe said Cody told her he was taking you out of the city early this morning, but I thought you’d be back hours ago.”

  “As did I,” chimed in Lady Rodanthe, her gaze shrewd as it rested on Lucy.

  “That’s right, I was with Cody,” said Lucy, not elaborating. She thought she saw Eamon’s brows draw together slightly, but she ignored him.

  “Anyway,” Jocelyn hurried on, “we’re just talking about what we’re going to do about our…situation.”

  “By situation do you mean the assassination attempt?” Lucy asked.

  “Yes,” sighed Jocelyn. “There’s no denying that the whole fiasco has put us in a difficult position. Eamon and I are trying to figure out whether we should delay our departure for Thorania. We’re supposed to be leaving in a couple of days, and traveling with the Thoranian delegation on their trip back to Thirl.”

  “It is difficult,” said Lord Rodanthe heavily, his eyes troubled as they rested on Eamon’s injury. “I will not deny that I am extremely alarmed by this incident. Honestly, I wonder if we should simply return to Kyona immediately.”

  “Absolutely not,” said Eamon flatly. “We came here to treat with the Thoranians, and we’re going to do just that. Besides,” he added, his voice dry, “if the whole delegation flees the kingdom immediately after my guard attacked King Giles…”

  “It makes Kyona appear guilty of an attempted assassination, yes,” Lord Rodanthe acknowledged. Lucy had to feel for the man. He looked more stressed than she had ever seen him as he visibly weighed the risk of further injury to Eamon or another of his charges against the risk of war between Kyona and Balenol. “Nevertheless, I am not eager to linger in Balenol,” the nobleman said at last. “As we have been saying, our safest and least suspicious course is probably to continue on to Thorania as scheduled.”

  “The trouble is,” Jocelyn explained to Lucy, “we don’t like to leave while the guard’s fate is…unresolved. But we’re also especially eager not to overstay our welcome, given…well, everything.”

  Kincaid cleared his throat. “Do you think it’s worth trying to…you know, persuade the king not to execute the guard until we return from our visit to Thorania?” His eyes flicked to the Kyonan courtiers before returning to his wife.

  “It’s all right,” she said quietly. “You can speak freely.”

  “In that case,” Kincaid said, looking meaningfully between Jocelyn and Eamon, “surely either one of you could convince the king if you tried.”

  Lucy raised an eyebrow. “If you mean what I think you mean, isn’t that a bit dishonorable?”

  Kincaid shrugged. “I don’t see why. Joss and Eamon’s power isn’t a bad thing. Not if they’re using it for a good cause. It’s an extremely useful asset, actually. And we shouldn’t waste it.”

  Lucy frowned, surprised by the thoughtful rather than confused looks on Lord and Lady Rodanthe’s faces. The Kyonan king and queen must trust the noble couple more than she realized. But in all honesty, Lucy was equally surprised by the Valorian prince’s casual reference to his wife’s unnatural magic ability. She would have thought it would unnerve him a little more, but he spoke as placidly as if he was commenting on Jocelyn’s hair color.

  She glanced at Eamon, and she thought he looked uncomfortable. It must be strange for him to have his power, for most of his life such a closely guarded secret, discussed so openly.

  But Jocelyn showed no such discomfort—presumably she was used to Kincaid’s perspective on her abilities. The princess sighed.

  “I’m not against the idea of using my power to save the poor man from execution—at least until we figure out for sure whether he was acting of his own free will. But it’s a diplomatic quagmire to use our magic on a foreign monarch.”

  “Just what I was thinking, Your Highness,” Lord Rodanthe said approvingly, looking relieved at Jocelyn’s words.

  “Except King Giles doesn’t know about your power, does he?” Kincaid argued. “No one here does. He certainly didn’t seem to notice yesterday when Eamon used his power to convince him that Kyona was not behind the attack.”

  Jocelyn quirked an amused eyebrow at her husband. “You caught that, did you? You’re getting better at detecting it.”

  Kincaid grinned. “My mountain blood does come in handy every once in a while.”

  Lucy frowned as she thought back over the conversation in the antechamber. She remembered how convincing, how infallible Eamon had suddenly seemed when reassuring the king. That had all been magic?

  A strange chill passed over her. It was maddening—and alarming—that she had been unable to detect it. But why would she? She had no mountain people in her ancestry, and none of the blood of Kyona’s royal house of Dragonfriend ran in her veins, either. Her heritage was nothing but a murky mix of enemy kingdoms. Her frown deepened into a scowl.

  “Well, I think it’s unconscionable,” she said curtly.

  There was a moment of silence, as everyone searched for a response to her unnecessarily sharp comment. Lady Rodanthe’s eyebrows were furrowed as she looked at Lucy, as though she was torn between disapproving of her tone, and wondering if she was actually right.

  “Well,” said Jocelyn at last, clearly deciding to take a diplomatic approach. “Maybe it won’t be necessary.”

  Lucy didn’t miss the look that passed between the twins, the one that said they would discuss the matter further in privacy. She drew in a breath, trying to rein in her disproportionate reaction. If she wasn’t careful, her outbursts would achieve nothing but having the royals shut her out of their strategic discussions next time.

  Lord Rodanthe took over the conversation then, discussing practicalities of the visit to Thorania.

  “Where did Cody take you?” Matheus asked her curiously, letting the conversation flow around them.

  “To the jungle,” she replied, her eyes gleaming as she remembered all she had seen. “It was incredible.”

  She suddenly felt guilty that they hadn’t invited Matheus. He had just as much right to learn about their mother’s past as she did, and she knew Cody had only excluded him because of her insistence that they do their training in private.

  “We have to go together next time,” she said, promising silently to repair the omission. “He showed me the rebel base.”

  “Really?” Matheus said, eagerness in his voice. “You have to take me there, too! Was it amazing?”

  “It was,” she said, pausing. “But also unsettling.” She shook her head. “And hot. I need to wash before dinner.”

  Matheus looked like he wanted to question her more about what she had seen, but she made good her escape without giving him the chance. She was still trying to decide what she thought about it all, and didn’t want to unpack her reflections for her brother.

  By the time dinner was served, Lucy was clean and composed and once again dressed in a gown, one of her least conspicuous ones. But it was evident from the moment she entered the dining hall that she was the focus of a great deal of attention, and not the kind she liked.

  It took all of her carefully cultivated grace to keep the flush from her cheeks as whispers and stares followed her all the way up to her seat. She didn’t stop to talk to anyone, sliding straight into a chair next to Cody. But if anything, the muttering increased. It only quietened when King Giles stood, formally welcoming the visitors once again and opening the meal. This was no private royal family dinner. Much of the court was in attendance, and the dining hall felt almost as crowded as the ballroom had done at the gala.

  “What’s going on?” Lucy asked Cody quietly, as servers began to bring food around.

&nbs
p; The Kyonan man looked at her in surprise. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean everyone is staring and muttering!”

  “Are they?” Cody glanced around, clearly not concerned. “Maybe they’re jealous of your gown or something.”

  “No, that’s definitely not—” Lucy cut herself off with a sigh. There was absolutely no point trying to have this conversation with Cody.

  She glanced over to where Jocelyn was sitting, and caught her friend watching her. Jocelyn smiled in greeting, but not quickly enough to hide the anxious look that had been on her face a moment before.

  Lucy felt her stomach drop uncomfortably. Jocelyn knew something she didn’t. Although as she scanned the room, noting the many eyes still scrutinizing her, she wondered if perhaps she did know. Her heart sank. If only she could have slipped into the castle by a back entrance that afternoon.

  The meal crawled by. The moment people began to move about, Lucy slipped away from her seat, taking a chair next to Jocelyn. She had noticed Lady Rodanthe’s eyes on her fairly often, but she would much rather hear whatever it was from Jocelyn.

  “Tell me, Joss,” she said flatly.

  Jocelyn sighed, and Lucy couldn’t help but notice that Kincaid, sitting on his wife’s other side, hurriedly engaged his neighbor in conversation, looking uncomfortable.

  “I’ve caused some kind of a scandal by wearing my forest clothes earlier, haven’t I?”

  Jocelyn sighed again. “It wasn’t just the clothes, although I think that was enough to set some of the loose tongues wagging.” She rolled her eyes. “Ridiculous, isn’t it? Considering what they wear here.”

  “I knew it was a bad idea to go out in public in—” Lucy cut off her bitter thoughts, apprehension rising within her as she ran through Jocelyn’s words in her mind. “What do you mean it wasn’t just that, though?”

  Jocelyn glanced over Lucy’s shoulder, and with a supreme effort of will Lucy stopped herself from following her friend’s gaze. She had no desire to meet any of the judgmental eyes fixed on her.

  “Apparently word spread that you spent the day out in the jungle with Cody.”

  Jocelyn waited for a response. When Lucy’s face remained blank, the princess grimaced apologetically before adding, “With just Cody.”

  “Oh.” Mortification battled in Lucy’s mind with an absurd desire to laugh. It was Cody, after all.

  “Yes,” said Jocelyn, sounding like she found it as stupid as Lucy did. “And dressed…well, scandalously according to local custom.”

  Lucy groaned. “Surely people can’t think—” But again she cut herself off. She knew exactly what people could think if they were so inclined. If only they had invited Matheus. It hadn’t even occurred to her to take a chaperone—such considerations had been the last thing on her mind. Honestly, she had been surprised even to learn that Cody had told Lady Rodanthe of their intended trip. She was certain he had been thinking only of issues of security when he had done so. But Lucy should have foreseen something like this.

  “It’s stupid, I know,” said Jocelyn soothingly. “And I know it’s uncomfortable to be talked about by malicious gossipers. Believe me, I know. But what does it really matter in the end? Anyone who was looking for something to criticize was always going to find it, no matter what we did. The king wants good relations with Kyona and Valoria, and that’s what we really came to ensure.”

  Lucy was silent for a moment. That might have been why Jocelyn and Eamon came. But she and Matheus had come for more personal reasons. They had come to represent their family, and to visit the royals who were their cousins. And, in Lucy’s case, to discover if the Balenan court could fulfill her childish desire to be accepted. A desire the Kyonan court was all too often reluctant to satisfy.

  “It’s ridiculous, is what it is,” she said, her irritation rising.

  “It’s not that ridiculous, really.”

  Lucy turned her head so fast at the unexpected interjection that something clicked uncomfortably in her neck. Eamon had materialized behind her chair. She wondered darkly how long he’d been standing there.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Of course people are foolish to be so narrow minded about clothing and such,” said Eamon fairly. “But it’s not so ridiculous for people to ask questions when you disappear for a whole day with a man and no other companion.”

  Jocelyn was skewering her twin with a look that suggested no high opinion of his intelligence. Lucy felt like rolling her eyes herself.

  “But it’s Cody!” she protested, spreading her hands in a gesture of appeal.

  Eamon shrugged. “Cody is a man.”

  “An old man,” retorted Lucy.

  Eamon made a noise in his throat that was somewhere between amused and impatient. “He’s not old, Lucy.”

  “He’s my parents’ age!” said Lucy. “Or not much younger.” She looked to Jocelyn for support. “Cody’s been bossing me around like a second father since the day I was born. He couldn’t be more like an uncle to me if he was my actual flesh and blood. The idea of a…” she struggled to even say the word, “romantic connection between us is as disgusting as it is absurd.”

  “We know that, Lucy,” said Jocelyn quickly. “Of course we do.” Her eyes flicked to Eamon, a silent message in them.

  “Yes, we know,” the prince chipped in belatedly. The faint hint of relief in his tone might have been Lucy’s imagination. “But we’re not the ones criticizing.”

  “Aren’t you?” asked Lucy tartly. She pushed herself from her chair in a fluid motion, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I’m going to my suite.”

  Jocelyn put a hand on Lucy’s arm. “Don’t worry about it, Lucy.” Her cheerful tone sounded a little forced. “It will be fine.”

  Lucy just nodded, not trusting herself to respond. She was putting on an indifferent front, but inside she was mortified by the whole situation. The fact that Eamon followed her as she started across the room did nothing to decrease her embarrassment.

  “What were you and Cody doing all day?” he asked, apparently unable to help himself.

  “That’s none of your business,” said Lucy haughtily.

  Eamon raised an eyebrow. “Oh yes, that answer will definitely make everyone less suspicious.”

  Lucy stopped walking, turning to glare at him. “I thought you weren’t the one criticizing.”

  He sighed. “I’m sorry, it’s just…I don’t like to hear people talking about you as if you’re something I know you’re not. It makes me angry.”

  “Well, how do you think it makes me feel?” Lucy shot back. Glancing around, she saw an unsettling number of eyes fixed on them. “You’re probably damaging your reputation just talking to me,” she said acidly. “So how about you let me be?”

  Eamon followed her gaze, a look of pure scorn passing over his handsome features. “Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t care about the opinion of these narrow-minded people.”

  Lucy stared up at him for a moment, the truth of his words washing over her with surprising force. He meant what he said, and it wasn’t just the sincerity on his face that told her that. It was years of watching him grow and thrive in the Kyonan court. Eamon had always been confident and poised. It was one of the things that had always so impressed Lucy about him, because she herself had never been as secure as he was. On the contrary, she always felt like she was watching every step, every word whenever she was in Kynton.

  Of course, Eamon had been born to his position. But so had Jocelyn, and Lucy knew that she had always struggled with the pressure of court life. Not Eamon. He had never been rattled by the opinions of those members of court who were relentlessly negative. So many times Lucy had witnessed him shrugging off a malicious comment, or a condescending manner. And never, not even for a moment, had he paid the smallest heed to anyone who expressed reservations about his connection with the half-Balenan family in the forest.

  He didn’t care what the overly critical faction of the court in Kynton thought. Of course
he wouldn’t care about the opinions of the Balenan equivalents. He wasn’t self-conscious like she was.

  But he cared what she thought. And her sustained rejection was slowly crushing him. Thinking back to his uncharacteristic hesitation and uncertainty at the ball, she could suddenly see that with blinding clarity.

  She turned away, wishing she knew how to care less, like he did. Wishing things weren’t such a mess between them. Wishing she had skipped dinner altogether to avoid this room full of dozens of judgmental strangers and one far too familiar prince.

  “Lucy?” Eamon’s voice was hesitant. He seemed to have noticed her sudden struggle with her unruly emotions. “What did I say?”

  “Nothing,” she said hastily. “I just need some time.”

  “Can…” Eamon’s hopeful expression was heartbreaking. “Can I walk you to your room?”

  Lucy looked down, not ready to sift through the varied emotions of the evening. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said, trying to keep her tone light. “Thank you for the offer, but I’ll be fine.”

  With a supreme effort, she resisted looking up at him as she bobbed a quick curtsy for form’s sake, then turned and swept from the room.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “It’s time. Are you ready?”

  Lucy’s heart pattered wildly as she nodded at her best friend. Jocelyn looked like she might be ill, but Lucy was so excited that she could barely spare a thought for nerves. She felt like she’d been waiting her whole life for this moment, and it couldn’t come fast enough.

  “Thank you for coming,” said Jocelyn, for probably the twentieth time. “I could never have faced my first ball without you.”

  “Thank you for being a nervous wreck!” teased Lucy as she followed her friend out of the princess’s lavish royal suite. “If you hadn’t begged my mother to take pity on you, there’s no way she would have let me attend a ball at the castle.” Lucy wrinkled her nose in disapproval. “She thinks fifteen is too young to attend balls.”