Sleeping Beauty

by K. M. Shea

  Firra picked a leaf out of her hair. “What about him?”

  “Why is he so intent on killing me?” Briar asked. “And I’m not buying the excuse that ending me will cause mass chaos. Grandfather is the picture of health, and my parents are young. While they might not be able to have any more children, they’re most certainly capable of selecting a distant cousin as an heir. Besides, what would possibly move him to curse me as a baby when he could have held his silence and offed me when I grew a little older?”

  Firra shrugged. “He’s a dark magic user. He enjoys causing havoc and ruin. Must he have a better motive?”

  “Yes,” Briar said with conviction. “If this were aimless, he would have moved on by now, or he would have gotten more serious about killing me earlier. Moreover, he wouldn’t have gone after only me, but my entire family.”

  Donaigh removed his ever-present straw hat and ran a hand through his hair. “You certainly use that cleverness Lord Enchanter Evariste gifted you with as a babe.”

  “Donaigh, Firra, I’m serious,” Briar said. “Something is going on, and I can’t grasp it. I don’t have the whole picture.”

  “Then look at it from a wider perspective,” Firra said. “Think. If Carabosso attacked the entire royal family of Sole, what would happen?”

  Briar scratched her side as she considered the question. “Our allies would respond and send help, and the Sole army would be dispatched, as would all the Magic Knights.”

  Donaigh raised a finger, as if testing the air. “In other words, if he attacked your mother, your grandfather, and you, every power in the country would rain down on him, and the Veneno Conclave would have to get deeply involved, as it could be viewed as an act of war. If this plan was enacted when you were a baby, the entire continent would have taken note.”

  “Instead he attacked you, the granddaughter of the current king,” Firra said. “While your family and the nobles bleat on about the infallibility of the d’Avalas direct line, you are right. You have plenty of distant cousins who also are of the d’Avalas family, and any number of them could step in if you had been taken care of much earlier.”

  “But he didn’t,” Donaigh said. “So now, most of King Giuseppe’s energy is spent on trying to keep you safe and browbeat you into acting like the princess society expects.”

  Briar blinked. “I’m a diversion. He’s using me to distract grandfather and mother…but why?”

  “We don’t know for sure, but we suspect it might be a way to tie up the Magic Knights of Sole,” Firra said. “Normally, they’re dispatched all over the country and occasionally the continent. No one, besides conclave-sanctioned mages, can face dark and evil magic users as well as the Magic Knights.”

  “Strange things have been happening across the continent.” Donaigh’s laughing eyes were deadly serious. “Ringsted can’t be reached—it’s cut off by terrible storms. You remember the princes of Arcainia and how they were turned into swans, how Prince Severin of Loire was cursed? Normally, the king would have sent out Magic Knights to investigate and offer help.”

  A sick feeling filled the pit of Briar’s stomach. “But he hasn’t because most of them are tied up here, reassuring grandfather that I’m safe, and the rest of them are searching Sole for Carabosso.”

  Firra blinked slowly, like a cat. “Yes.”

  Briar jutted her chin out. “So cursing me as a child was the best way to ensure the Magic Knights would be wrapped up at the exact time other troubles just happen to be plaguing our allies.”

  “As best as we can guess…yes,” Donaigh said.

  It was probably the worst conclusion she could have come to, not because it was even more unsettling than the thought of one dark magic user with a vindictive streak attacking her out of sheer malice, but because she knew King Giuseppe would never see it. And if she tried to bring it to his attention, he wouldn’t listen. Coming off the heels of the conversation she had just held with him, she suspected that even if he did, he wouldn’t care.

  Briar wanted to scream, but this conversation was too important to interrupt with an emotional outburst, no matter how justified it was.

  Firra stretched and picked another leaf out of her hair. “It’s possible there may be something else at play, but the timeline seems too convenient.”

  Briar clasped her arms behind her back. “Is my curse inevitable?”

  Donaigh cocked his head. “What?”

  “Is my curse inevitable? Is there any way to stop it or break it?”

  “Now? No,” Firra said. “Curses aren’t like stains. It’s not something you can blot out with a bit of paint.”

  “If the timing is right and you have the power, modifying a curse is easy enough,” Donaigh said. “But to break or seal an evil like a curse, magic alone isn’t powerful enough—it needs an act of love to finish it off. That’s why Lady Enchantress Angelique used the requirement of true love’s kiss to wake you up.”

  “Throughout history, there have been only a handful of mages who can cancel out curses with their core magic—the first was a magic user named Liv who followed Verglas’s Snow Queen. The latest died a few years before you were born,” Firra added. “Outside of them, all other magic users can only modify curses or cancel them with an act of love.”

  So there was no way out, then. Briar had guessed as much—her parents would have moved the world to rid her of the curse entirely, if it were possible. “But the curse will definitely happen. There’s no way to avoid it if, for instance, I holed myself up in my room and didn’t come out until after my birthday?” Her nightmares cackled in her memory as she steeled herself for their answer.

  Firra folded her arms across her chest, and Donaigh shielded his eyes with his hands and looked off in the distance. “I say, Firra, I think your minty scent is drawing cats to us—are you sure you didn’t roll in catnip?”

  “Donaigh,” Briar said.

  Donaigh dropped his hand. His eyes looked weary, and the slant of his mouth was sorrowful. “I’m sorry, Little Rose. There’s nothing you can do to stop it.”

  Briar found it hard to swallow, but she bravely met his gaze.

  “You will prick your finger and fall asleep,” Donaigh continued. “I know it must frighten you, but I promise you that you will wake again.”

  Yes…if I can ever work up the courage to tell Isaia.

  “Falling into a deep sleep sounds ominous, but if we exclude Carabosso’s pesky habit of bothering you, your curse is quite tame,” Firra said. “Before his curse was modified, the Loire prince had the body and mind of an animal.”

  Briar nodded, though she barely heard the mage’s words. She wasn’t sure she agreed—she had experienced too many nightmares involving Carabosso for that. But her mind was a whirlwind of chaos and half-formed plans.

  Her curse was inevitable, but Carabosso was using it as a method to keep her grandfather and parents dancing to his tune. Still, as frightening as the idea was to fall into a deep sleep, Briar knew it would end, and she would wake up. When that happened, if Carabosso kept bothering her—without the threat of the curse looming—wouldn’t the royal family finally opt to attack?

  “What is the likelihood we could explain our suspicions—that my curse is a mere distraction—and that King Giuseppe or my mother would act on it?” Briar asked, even though she knew the answer.

  “Not good,” Firra said, “as we have already reported everything we told you.”

  “It was heavily implied we are paranoid.” Donaigh laughed as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “Which was rather rich considering it was your grandfather who told us so.”

  Briar slowly nodded. Her curse was inevitable. She was a distraction. The same two thoughts beat in her mind like a drum. But, oddly, she was not discouraged. If anything, she felt like she could breathe more clearly.

  As a forthright person, Briar greatly valued knowing where she stood. And now she knew exactly what the problem was. The only thing left to puzzle out was what she could do about it.


  “Thank you, Firra and Donaigh.” Briar shook herself from her thoughts long enough to smile at the mages. “I am very thankful for the information you have shared with me today.”

  “I’m sorry, Briar,” Firra said. “You have not been dealt an easy hand.”

  Briar shrugged. “It could be worse. Thankfully Carabosso was prideful enough to curse me in front of other magic users.”

  “No.” Donaigh’s voice was unusually serious, making him sound almost deadly. “Don’t undersell yourself, Briar Rose. Carabosso’s biggest error was choosing you for his target. If this had happened to any other noble of Sole—to any royal woman on the continent—the story might end differently.”

  Briar tilted her head. “And do you know how it is going to end already?”

  Firra smiled, turning her beautiful features wild. “Of course.”

  Donaigh’s smile was just as deadly. “You win.”

  “Your confidence in me is inspiring.” Her mind whirling, Briar turned to leave. “Let’s just hope it is not misplaced.”

  “It’s not, Little Rose,” Firra said.

  “Stand tall, and be proud of who you are,” Donaigh added.

  With their encouragement ringing in her ears, Briar made for the palace, still turning the questions over in her mind.

  I will overcome this…and Carabosso will rue the day he decided to play with my family!

  Chapter 7

  A Show of Courage

  Two weeks passed, and Briar had yet to come up with a feasible plan that satisfied her. She had tried feeling her mother out—after all, she might take to the idea that Briar’s curse was a diversion if it was her own daughter who said it—but Briar had been completely shut down, and once again warned that she could not take any risks.

  Likewise, Briar’s desire to speak with Isaia alone to discuss the breaking of her curse was proving fruitless as he was daily sent out on a patrol of Ciane, along with many other Magic Knights, greatly limiting his availability.

  So Briar, her jaw clenched in irritation, was perilously close to losing her patience as nobles and gentry bowed and scraped to her—complimenting her if they were in her grandfather’s pocket, scorning her if they were not. The ballroom was hot from all the bodies, and the air was stifling. Hidden beneath the skirts of her dress, she impatiently tapped her foot on the mosaic-tiled floor.

  There’s a war outside Ciane, and all we do is dance and laugh! Briar forced her lips into a smile and nodded to a young noble—probably one of the men her grandfather feared she would scare off with her shocking personality.

  “Your Highness, would you care for a moment of reflection?” Delanna whispered into her ear after the young lord moved on.

  Briar raised an eyebrow. “Reflection?”

  Delanna’s polite smile was nearly devious. “If you call yourself ‘reflective,’ it gives you the excuse to escape to a quiet balcony outside and ‘ponder the events of the evening,’ or, as I would call it, breathe.”

  Briar laughed and felt some of the tension seep out of her spine. “You are a gem of the highest quality, Lady Delanna. Yes, I believe I am in a very pensive mood this evening, and I should like a moment of reflection.”

  They joined arms and slipped through the crush of the crowd, weaving until they reached the outer perimeter of the room.

  Velvet, Jewel, and Silk were waiting for them at the door of one of the small balconies. Jewel smiled and curtsied a little. “I will tell your parents where you are, Your Highness, so they do not worry.”

  “Thank you,” Briar said. She almost lunged through the door she was so eager to escape outside. The stillness of the outdoors and the freshness of the air were the best greeting she could have hoped for, though the cooler temperatures made her grateful for her puffed sleeves and velvet gown. The nights and mornings were much cooler now as the weather shifted from summer to fall.

  She moved to the far corner of the balcony so she could not be seen if someone meandered past the door. There, finally, her ears stopped ringing from the chattering and the noise. She stared out at the lawn—still green in spite of the fall weather—and leaned against a marble sculpture of a knight on the back of a rearing horse.

  She had to do something about Carabosso. Perhaps if we attack this more from a magical angle? But the Veneno Conclave has already been informed of our current situation.… A sigh leaked out of her, and she wondered gloomily how long she had until her curse struck her. She had until winter, at least, when she turned eighteen.

  Delanna interrupted her thoughts. “Your Highness?”

  Briar spun around and blinked in surprise at the man who stood with her friend. “Isaia.”

  Delanna curtsied and discreetly stepped back into the palace, leaving the childhood friends alone.

  Isaia bowed and approached Briar with his usual long-legged stride. He studied her for a moment, and though Briar smiled—genuinely happy to see him—she feared some of the strain must have shown, for he cracked a rare joke. “Rethinking your desire for an Easy-and-Carefree-Life?”

  Briar laughed and sagged against the balcony ledge. “I was forced to say farewell to that plan the moment I learned who I was,” she said. “Though I do wish Nonna had told me it was a stupid idea and that I should prepare myself for a life of drudgery—that would have better prepared me for palace life.”

  Though it was dark outside, Isaia’s eyes gleamed in the moonlight. “Are you unhappy?”

  “No,” Briar said with great surety. “But while Sir Roberto properly educated me, and Nonna was the best foster mother I could have asked for, I wish they would have doted on me a little less and let me experience more troubles.” She tightly gripped the cold balcony railing. “I’m in over my head, Isaia. I’ve never faced a situation like this—where people don’t like me for no better reason than who my parents are, or that I’m not quiet and sweet. I never faced a looming threat that constantly hangs over my head.”

  “You have a rare resilience, Your Highness. You can best this.”

  Though his words were encouraging, the ‘Your Highness’ burned her like a brand. Miserably, she nodded.

  Isaia was silent for a few moments. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

  Yes, you could kiss me and wake me up after Carabosso’s curse strikes me. Briar pushed the thought away for a moment, though she knew this was her chance to tell him. She wanted to lead up to it gently—or he would run as he had when she was fourteen.

  “You remain my friend—that’s more than I could have hoped for,” Briar said.

  “I would never abandon you.”

  “I know that…but…” Lacking the words to continue, she trailed off. Her heart beat in her throat when Isaia slowly reached out and touched one of her hands.

  “I am yours to command, Briar Rose,” he said.

  Tell him now. Tell him now! He can hardly refuse me after that. Though Briar’s mind puffed up like an angry cat, she could stupidly say no words, and instead stared up at him like a foolish, lovesick girl.

  His expression was tender—the set of his mouth was gentle, and the caress of his hand on hers was warm and assuring. The light of affection in his eyes almost made her burst into tears. This was the man she loved…and there was a good chance that if she told him he had to be the one to kiss her awake, he would purposely fade from her life.

  Swallowing her pride and dread, Briar forced herself to speak. “There is something I need help with…Isaia, about my curse—”

  “Your Highness,” Delanna said. When Briar turned, her lady-in-waiting, Delanna looked just as regretful as Briar felt. “King Giuseppe…” she trailed off helplessly when King Giuseppe glided past her and took command of the balcony with his imposing presence.

  Isaia—who had taken a step away from Briar the moment Delanna spoke—bowed low. “Your Majesty.”

  “If you would grant me a moment with my grandchild, Sir Isaia,” King Giuseppe said.

  “Of course,” Isaia murmured and was gone
, taking with him Briar’s opportunity to speak to him about her curse.

  She knew she should be upset, but the emotional part of her was grateful as she didn’t relish the certain outcome of the conversation.

  Briar stood straight and forced her worries out of her mind. “Good evening, Grandfather.”

  The king nodded and joined her at the balcony ledge. Together they were awkwardly quiet as they stared out at the dimly lit lawn.

  “Do you detest me?” King Giuseppe asked rather suddenly.

  Briar blinked. I must have heard him wrong. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Do you detest me, Rosalinda?”

  “No,” Briar said, and was surprised to find it was true. She wanted King Giuseppe to like her—it was why his rejection hurt as much as it did. “Though I am now afraid to hear what you think of me if you thought such a thing was possible.”

  “When we sent you away, you could barely speak.” The king continued his abrupt speech. “But you screamed and hollered as you rode off, calling for your mother and father, and even for me. You called me Beppe then…”

  Briar could tell that he wasn’t really seeing the lawn, but a much younger version of her.

  “I wondered for years if we had done the right thing by sending you off. A child of royal blood should be raised as a royal. It is their right. And every time I thought that, I recalled your small hand reaching for mine as they took you away.” King Giuseppe turned so he no longer stood shoulder to shoulder with her, but faced her. The rocky mask he normally wore seemed cracked, and Briar could see a glimmer of something warm in his eyes. “Though your odd upbringing has brought you scorn—and even I cannot say I am pleased with it—I would have it done again in a heartbeat. No matter how stubborn, ignorant, and reckless you act, I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. You are my granddaughter. My rose.”

  Briar gawked at the stony man with wide eyes, shocked into silence.

  King Giuseppe nodded and strode for the door.

  His sudden movement spurred Briar into reclaiming her voice. “I must add to my previous answer, Grandfather.”