Bluebeard's Curse (Dark Tales Book 1)

by Regine Abel

  Upon my request, Tormund had the servants refresh the empty hunters’ pavilion at the edge of the woodlands. I would spend my days there, with Traxia’s voice nothing more than a dull echo in the back of my mind. The first time I entered the pavilion, the peace it offered was so wonderful I attempted to spend the night there. However, like Eric had warned, I had to be within the castle at night. As the evening advanced, the gem on the medallion took on a pinkish tint that slowly edged toward red. Physical symptoms began to manifest the darker it became: shortness of breath, arrhythmia, and dizziness. Eric raced us back to the castle on his horse, berating himself the whole time for indulging my request when he knew better.

  Evenings were a nightmare. Traxia’s voice had grown in urgency and potency. She was running out of time with only the nights to try to break me. Eric never left my side, staying awake from dusk until dawn to keep me distracted from her enticements whenever I couldn’t sleep. In my despair, I asked him to cage me or chain me. That would have been too easy. As part of the curse, I couldn’t be held against my will or physically prevented from entering the Sealed Room if it was my desire. All Eric could do was try to sway me until I granted unequivocal consent.

  Thus we chipped away at the remaining days of my challenge. December came and went, followed by a snowy, chilly January. It was my birthday this month, and Eric decided to organize a ball in my honor. He was breaking his own rule by having a formal event involving his queen before the curse was lifted. When I pointed this out to him, Eric simply responded that since I wasn’t allowed to fail, he would have his queen’s birthday properly celebrated.

  It was odd finding myself in the ballroom again. This time, instead of being the pariah trying to make herself invisible among a smattering of hopeful maidens, I was the center of attention. The blatant ogling, speculating gazes and assessing stares quickly grated on my already frayed nerves. Traxia’s voice was relentless and I would have given anything to simply curl up in Eric’s arms while awaiting the blessed sunrise so that I might escape the castle again.

  As expected, my father didn’t allow my sister to attend the ball. He believed he was protecting her – and himself – from my inevitable death. However, through the correspondence my sister and I regularly exchanged, he subtly kept himself appraised of my continued welfare. I couldn’t wait for the next six weeks to be over so I could show him it had all been worth it, in more ways than one. He would love Eric.

  Lady Freya was droning on about the endless virtues of her oldest daughter Solveig. She hoped I would make her one of my ladies in waiting once the trial was over. Lady Freya was only the latest in a never-ending series of such opportunistic conversations. My eyes sought Eric among the guests, hoping for a rescue. He spoke with one of his councilors and frowned when he noticed my distraught expression. I could see him trying to free himself to come to me and immediately felt guilty for being so needy. Shaking my head at him, I smiled in a way I hoped he’d find reassuring.

  With a barely repressed sigh of aggravation, I interrupted with some vague excuse the constant flow from Lady Freya’s nearly non-existent lips. The bulging of her already protuberant eyes and her chubby hand clutching at her ample bosom in shock should have been comical. However, the pounding headache that tore at me, thanks to Traxia’s relentless assault, had me in a less than humorous disposition.

  I took refuge on the balcony overlooking the garden. The late January evening offered a pleasantly brisk weather. Without a coat, my hideout would only provide a brief reprieve, but I would take whatever I could. I inhaled the fresh, crisp air biting at my nose. The sound of the door opening behind me drew my attention. Turning around, I was surprised to see Hilda close it before approaching me. She held a beautifully embroidered shawl which she extended to me. Stunned, I accepted the unexpected present and wrapped it around me. I nearly moaned at the welcomed warmth it provided.

  “Thank you, Lady Hilda. I really needed that.”

  “My pleasure, your Highness,” Hilda said, smiling.

  Her sudden kindness baffled me. It was no secret Hilda always believed she would be Eric’s bride and the one to end the curse. When he chose me over her, the hurt and confusion she felt had been plain to see. I expected sourness and bitter resentment from her in the face of my apparent success – not this considerate gesture. Eyeing her cautiously, I wondered what her agenda was and when she would strike.

  “You must be wondering what I could possibly want, seeking you out here, away from prying eyes and indiscreet ears?” Hilda said, her eyes sparkling in amusement.

  My cheeks heated and I hoped their sudden redness would be attributed to the cool air. “I must confess that I do.”

  Hilda wrapped her shawl tighter around her delicate shoulders and leaned against the stone railing of the balcony. “Against all odds, it appears that you will succeed where all others have failed. You’re well aware that I was… upset that King Eric didn’t choose me. It certainly was a considerable blow to my pride. But I guess it was also a much needed lesson in humility, which took me quite a few months to digest and accept.”

  My lips parted in stupor at her unexpected candor. Unimpressed by my own lack of decorum, I schooled my features and gave her a gracious smile. “To be fair, Lady Hilda, we all thought you would be chosen. I was just as shocked as you no doubt were.”

  “If I’m honest though, a part of me was relieved.” She giggled prettily at my dubious expression. “I’m serious. Despite all my bravado, I couldn’t help but wonder if I could survive the challenge that defeated so many others. Whatever flaws I may have, being suicidal isn’t one of them.”

  I couldn’t help but chuckle at the self-derisive expression on her face. “Ah yes, self-preservation… My father deplores my apparent lack of it.”

  Hilda seemed surprised by my answer. “Your father didn’t approve of you attending the ball?” When I shook my head, she said, “But this was the best possible outcome for your family, in light of your previous circumstances!”

  “It was,” I shrugged, acting more casual than I felt. “However, Father believed we would find another solution that wouldn’t put my life in jeopardy. He would have preferred us becoming destitute and have all his children alive, rather than be wealthy and in mourning.”

  A strange look crossed her face, and then Hilda turned to face the frozen garden. She rested her hands on the stone railing. “I envy you, you know?”

  “What?” I also leaned against the railing, while admiring Hilda’s regal profile. She looked every bit the queen she had longed to become.

  “My parents wouldn’t particularly care if I died, as long as I was chosen. They would have only wanted me to last as long as possible before I keeled over. Were you aware that your bride price increases for every month you survive?”

  I blinked at her in complete shock. “This is the first I hear of this.”

  She snorted. “Ariana’s mother became extravagant in her spending after her daughter’s hand fasting – each month more outrageous than the last. When my mother asked her what the source of this new wealth was, she confessed. Ever since, my parents have dreamt of the same privilege for themselves.”

  My heart went out to her. I couldn’t begin to imagine what it must be like to be nothing more than a pawn to the people who should care about you the most.

  The balcony door opened behind us, revealing a worried Eric. He cast a concerned glance at Hilda before turning questioning eyes to me.

  “Is everything alright, my darling?” Eric asked, closing the distance between us.

  “Everything is fine, Eric,” I said, smiling. “Lady Hilda and I were having a friendly conversation. Were you looking for me?”

  He blinked, no doubt trying to hide his surprise. “Yes, actually I was. It’s time to open the ball.”

  I gave Hilda an apologetic smile, who curtsied gracefully, before Eric led me inside. The ball lasted for a couple of hours. Whenever possible, I danced with my husband, but otherwise accepted the r
equests of our guests, as a proper hostess should. I caught myself looking for Hilda on a few occasions, but she was nowhere to be seen. Maybe she had made a discreet exit while we were dancing? However, as the guests began bidding their goodnight to Eric and me, she suddenly reappeared.

  “Lady Hilda,” I said smiling, when she came to pay her respect, “thank you for coming.”

  “The pleasure was all mine, your Highness,” Hilda said. She curtsied and turned as if to leave, but changed her mind. “If I may be so bold, I rather enjoyed our conversation earlier. Would it be alright if I came back to visit now and then?”

  I felt Eric’s startled glance. The request was unexpected, but I too had enjoyed our conversation. I also missed the feminine companionship my sister and I used to share. Hilda no doubt had ulterior motives, but right now, I would settle for anything other than the servants’ reluctant surveillance.

  “It would be lovely to have you over for tea, Lady Hilda,” I said. “I’m always home, so feel free to come by whenever you please.”

  She seemed delighted by my answer. After a final curtsey, she took her leave.

  CHAPTER 8

  Astrid

  My head was throbbing from the strain of Traxia’s constant and desperate assaults. We were only four days away from March first, and the activation of the final seal. Twice more, I had nearly given Eric a heart attack by sleepwalking to the door. Tricked each time, not at night, but in broad daylight by even more deceptive daydreams. Sleep deprivation was taking its toll on me. Even the hunters’ pavilion was failing to provide any kind of real relief anymore.

  I was preparing to go on a horseback ride to the edge of the estate when Tormund informed me Hilda had come calling. This was her eleventh visit since my birthday celebration six weeks ago. Our relationship was still somewhat awkward, but her company had become a welcomed distraction. She was smart, worldly and shared my passion for embroidery and poetry. Hilda was an accomplished flutist. We played many duets together, with me at the harp. Eric even surprised us by sitting in on one of our sessions.

  “Hello, Lady Hilda,” I said while putting on my riding gloves, “I was just heading out for a horse ride. Would you care to join me?”

  Under different circumstances, I would have postponed it, but I desperately needed to get out of the castle. Accommodating as ever, Hilda bowed her head in acknowledgment.

  “It would be my pleasure, your Highness.”

  We rode for nearly an hour in the surrounding woodlands. I needed to clear my head first, so I set a rather intense pace, not overly conducive to conversation. By the time we returned to the castle, I was chilled to the bone. Hilda didn’t utter the slightest complaint at my inconsiderate behavior. While she tried hard to hide it, her shivering spoke volumes about her level of discomfort. Ashamed, I asked the servants to bring us tea in my boudoir.

  I stood by the fireplace, my palms extended toward the flames to warm my frozen hands. Hilda sat behind me on one of the couches across the hearth. Minutes later, a servant came in with tea and biscuits, which she lay on the coffee table in front of Hilda. The soothing fragrance of herbal tea soon filled the room.

  “Sugar and milk?” Hilda asked, pouring us tea.

  “Yes, please. That would be lovely,” I said over my shoulder.

  After lingering a moment longer by the fire, I took a seat in front of Hilda, across from the coffee table. She presented me with a cup which I gratefully took from her. I couldn’t repress the moan of pleasure that escaped me at the first sip, blessed warmth spreading through me. Hilda smiled then drank from her own cup with a contented sigh.

  “You are proving quite gracious, Lady Hilda, in spite of my rather inconsiderate behavior,” I said sheepishly. “It was far too cold for such a long ride. Yet, you have kept the pace without so much as a remonstrance for my callousness. Please accept my apologies.”

  Hilda shrugged. “No apologies needed, your Highness. You’re clearly under a great deal of stress. I can see that your trial is taking its toll on you. It’s my great honor to be able to support you in whatever capacity I may.”

  “You’re so kind and understanding. I’ve greatly enjoyed your companionship over the past few weeks. However, under the circumstances, I cannot help but wonder about your motives for the sudden display of friendship.”

  “Why indeed. Well, since you are asking so bluntly, I will be as forward with my answer.” She took another sip of her tea, then set it down on the table and looked me straight in the eye. “As you well know, I wanted to be King Eric’s queen. It’s now obvious that it isn’t meant to be, but that hasn’t dampened my ambitions. In a few days, you will be officially acknowledged as Queen of Rathlin Islands. You’ll start taking part in many royal functions that will put you in frequent contact with the most powerful men of our allied and neighboring kingdoms. Any woman smart enough to secure a place by your side as your confidante or lady in waiting will have many opportunities to catch their eye.”

  I chuckled, flabbergasted by her honesty, unable to decide if I was impressed or offended. “Your candor astounds me, Lady Hilda. Aren’t you afraid that such forwardness would behoove me to cast you from my side?”

  Hilda smiled and bowed her head in a conciliatory fashion. “It would be foolish and arrogant of me to presume to know how you will or won’t react. But I know you enough now to believe you do not suffer flatterers and sycophants. You would want the truth, however unpleasant it may be.” Hilda refilled my cup, then hers, and gave me a teasing smile. “That said, I must confess that your company has proven quite enjoyable for me too. Trying to ingratiate myself to you hasn’t actually been a hardship.”

  I burst out laughing at her boldness. She smiled smugly while adding sugar and milk to my cup. While I wasn’t overly ambitious myself, I could respect that trait in others. Hilda would probably never be a confidante, but she had been a pleasant companion. I didn’t mind helping her in securing a rich and powerful husband.

  The next fifteen minutes or so were devoted to some mild gossiping as Hilda got me up to date on the latest events in the realm, outside the confines of the castle. However, the sleep deprivation that had plagued me suddenly demanded its due as an intense wave of weariness washed over me. My eyelids seemed to weigh a ton and my mind struggled to form coherent thoughts. Noticing my abrupt change in disposition, Hilda rushed to my side, a concerned expression on her face.

  “Your Highness, are you unwell? Should I call for assistance?”

  “Ti–tired… So tired…” I barely managed to say.

  “Of course.” Hilda sounded relieved. “With your current ordeal, you would be. Don’t fight it, your Highness. Please lie down and rest awhile. All will be fine. I will stay by your side.”

  Hilda coaxed me into resting my head on the arm of the couch and put my feet up so I would lie down. I wanted to protest, but my mind was too foggy to even form words. Hilda fetched a throw blanket, which she laid atop me, still whispering comforting words. My last thought before darkness claimed me was how odd that Traxia’s voice had gone silent.

  * * *

  An acute chest pain and the impression of suffocating brought me out of my slumber. It was as if ice cold hands dug sharp claws into my heart and choked my neck in a bruising hold. Clutching at my chest, I gasped for breath. I scrambled off the couch on unsteady feet and noticed Hilda’s absence. She had promised to watch over me! Though my gut knew better, I told myself she probably only stepped out for a few seconds. My weariness, however, had been too sudden, too brutal to have been natural. That’s when the ugly truth dawned on me. This chest pain and shortness of breath were familiar. I had felt the same when the medallion had warned me I was too far from the castle for too long. I looked down at my chest, already knowing my necklace would be gone.

  “No! Hilda, you fool!” I said breathily.

  Taking support on the furniture, I stumbled my way to the door of my boudoir. When I opened it, it was as if I had walked into Hell itself. Traxia’s voice
exploded in my head, shrieking for me to come to her at once. It was so excruciatingly loud, I screamed and doubled over in pain. On instinct, in a futile attempt to block her out, I slapped my hands over my ears.

  “Your Highness, are you unwell?” a servant asked.

  Overwhelmed by pain and fear, I barely registered her, too focused on blocking out Traxia and getting to Hilda before she did something irreversible. Supporting myself against the wall, I teetered toward the dungeon shouting incoherently for Hilda to stop.

  “Your Highness, please…” the servant pleaded, “you mustn’t go there! Please return to your boudoir and I will ask Master Tormund to come see you.”

  Ignoring her, I plowed forward. She grabbed my arm to stop me. Shoving her more forcefully than I would have had my mind not been so tortured by agony, I made a last dash for the dungeon door and tore it open.

  The fading voice of the servant shouting for Tormund to come at once was drowned in the vicious shouts from Traxia inside my head. Lurching down the stairs, I almost fell more than once. When I reached the landing, I saw my greatest fear had come true. At the end of the corridor, past the octagonal hall, the eleven active seals pulsated red around the gaping darkness of the opened door.

  Taking a few more steps forward, I halted in the middle of the octagon and peered inside the dark room ahead, afraid that I wouldn’t be able to stop if I went any closer. Hilda stood in front of a magnificent psyche with a frame made of corals inlaid with precious gems. The soft purple glow from the corals was the only source of light in the formerly sealed room. Trapped inside the psyche, the beautifully cruel looking Traxia sneered at me. How had I not seen her resemblance to Eric during our first encounter?