Clipped

by Laura Greenwood

  Clipped

  A Children Of The Cursed Short Story

  Laura Greenwood

  © 2017 Laura Greenwood

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  All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means – electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or otherwise – without prior written permission of the published, except as provided by United States of America copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher at “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the email address; lauragreenwood@authorlauragreenwood.co.uk.

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  Cover Design by: Michelle Parsons @ Limabean Designs

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  Visit Laura Greenwood’s website at:

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  www.authorlauragreenwood.co.uk

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  www.facebook.com/authorlauragreenwood/

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  Accursed is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  To the authors of 12 Days of Christmas, thank you for indulging me in my crazy idea, and for all your hard work raising money for our chosen charity. While our stories have now gone their separate ways, what we achieved together can live on.

  Contents

  A Note on Language

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Other Books by Laura Greenwood

  About Laura Greenwood

  A Note on Language

  Please note that the author of this book is from the UK, and as such, spellings and some turns of phrase will appear in British English.

  Prologue

  4 years ago…

  Odette emerged from the tranquil waters behind her seven older sisters, shedding her soft white feathers and stretching out her arms, ridding them of the cramp of flight. It was the first time Odette had joined them this side of the river, but as her eighteenth birthday had just passed, it was one of her rites of passage as one of the seven Swan Princesses of Riversen.

  Her eldest sister handed her a robe made of a material almost as soft as her feathers were. Which was good. She’d been worrying about how it would feel to be wearing something that wasn’t her cloak. Even in her human form at the palace, it was all she wore. The feathers felt like home.

  Wrapping herself up, she stepped away from the river, and followed her sisters to where they would dance for an evening, worshipping the Swan Goddess who was the only one able to watch their dance. They did the same thing on the same night, every single year. It was the only time anyone got to leave Riversen. Such was their curse.

  Or the Swan Goddess was the only one who should have been watching. Without the sisters’ knowledge, a King watched as they danced, enraptured by their beauty and grace. Before they finished, the King snuck away to the river, where he took one of the feather cloaks that the Princesses had left there.

  When the sisters returned to the river, Odette watched as her sisters took turns donning their feathers, but when it came to her turn, and she went to pick up her cloak, all she came up with was air. Panicking, she looked around, hoping to spot the tell-tale specks of white that would reveal her cloak to her, but found nothing.

  A hand clamped around her wrist and pulled her back towards a hard chest. She began to struggle, but before she really could, something heavy hit the back of her head. Darkness engulfed her, leaving her at the mercy of whoever was behind her.

  1

  She’d lived the life of a Queen for four years. Yet each day, she woke up feeling more and more trapped. All she longed for was a chance to fly free, but with her feathered cloak gone, her wings were clipped and she was trapped in the life forced upon her.

  Which was all just a fancy way of saying she was a slave. One with a gilded cage, and jewels attached to her collar, but a slave nonetheless. Sometimes, she’d swear she could see pity in some of her attendants’ eyes. Mostly the ones that had seen the marks the King had left the first few weeks after their marriage. The weeks where she’d still held the determination to fight back. That’d fled first.

  Thankfully, the King had left her alone since the birth of their twins, three years ago, preferring the company of his mistresses. Maybe most wives would’ve been bothered by their husband straying as much as Ennardo did, but not Odette. If he was paying attention to them, then he wasn’t paying attention to her. And, while she wasn’t doing anything wrong, she just didn’t want him remembering about her. She already took great care to wear the dowdiest gowns she could get away with, ones that hid the figure she’d quickly regained after giving birth, as well as in cultivating a stern persona that no one wanted to question.

  The only people she showed her true self to her was her twins, the beautiful babies who’d been born out of such pain. She couldn’t love them more if she’d tried. They were something truly hers, but mostly because her husband couldn’t be bothered with them at all. Which was ridiculous in her mind. Their little boy was his heir after all, and at the very least, his daughter was a pawn in the marriage game. Well, not to Odette, but to Ennardo she was sure that’s all Lena was. She would do just about anything to protect her daughter from that fate. No woman deserved to be sold to the highest bidder, her daughter least of all.

  “Your majesty?” a male voice asked tentatively, and she turned gracefully, her skirts swishing against the floor. She studied the man who stood in front of her, not recognising him from about the palace.

  “Can I help you?” she asked softly, something about the man making her forget she was supposed to stay aloof and not lose her unapproachable front, but there was something about him that put her completely at ease. He was tall, but then, so was she, with strawberry blond hair and the toned physique and bronzed skin that showed he was someone familiar with working outside. And yet he had none of the roughness she’d expect from someone who did. His clothing was immaculate, and more than that, was Court appropriate, fitting his body like a glove. Luckily for Odette, he was in much better shape than a lot of the Lords about, for which she was grateful. It may be ungracious to even think it, but some of them really shouldn’t be wearing such tight fabrics.

  “Yes, I’m visiting on behalf of my Mother. She wanted me to give you this,” he said, handing her a thick parchment envelope. Their hands touched as she took it from him, and her heart skipped a beat. This close, the woodsy scent of him surrounded her, and reminded her of home, and of safety. Two things she’d been sorely missing.

  “Do I know her?” Odette asked, still speaking softly and surprising herself. The man chuckled, but it seemed like it was more to himself than to her.

  “I doubt it, Mother doesn’t always need to know someone to send them a note.”

  “Oh,” she said, turning the envelope in her hand, and being surprised to discover her name written on the front in a particularly elegant script. Slowly, and conscious of the man’s eyes watching her. Maybe he was going to report back to whoever his Mother was.

  She withdrew the letter and unfolded it, finding the same graceful script covering the page:

  Your majesty, Odette,

  What you’ve lost, may now be found. Trust in my son, he’ll find you what you desire.

  Gretel

  Royal Adviser and Seer to their Majesties Queen Keira and King Philip of Demetra and Aleventia

  Odette read the letter, then again, not quite knowing what to make of what she was seeing.

  “She’s genera
lly reliable,” the man said, breaking through her haze.

  “Do you know what’s in here?” she demanded, waving the letter to the side slightly as she did.

  “No. I don’t need to know where Mother is concerned. When she says to do something, you generally do it. It’s a lesson me and my sister learned when we were very small.” He smiled, his dark green eyes zoning out slightly as he recalled his childhood. She imagined that’s what she looked like when she recalled her own, though she tried not to. It was too painful to think of it. Without reducing her to a blubbering mess anyway, which wasn’t exactly an accepted reaction for a Queen to have.

  “Do you have a name?” she asked instead of the questions about his childhood that she longed to.

  “I’m Stefan. What may I call you, your majesty?” He gave her a teasing smile that suggested he was used to being around royalty, and well aware that they actually didn’t want to be treated any differently from anyone else. Then again, if his Mother was who she claimed she was, then he probably grew up around the Princess.

  “Odette,” she replied without thinking about it too hard. Really, she shouldn’t be allowing him to use her given name, but something about him, made using it seem right.

  “Nice to meet you, Odette.” He said her name slowly, as if trying it out, and she had to admit that she loved the way it sounded when it came in his low tones. “May I see?” he asked, pointing towards the letter. Maybe she shouldn’t have given it to him, but as with her name, it felt right, so she handed the parchment over, and watched his face as he read. A small smile spread across his face.

  “What is it?” She moved over so that she could read the letter again over his shoulder, almost expecting there to be something different written on it. There wasn’t, and she was more than a little disappointed. Without realising she was doing it, she placed a hand on his arm, moving closer to him rather than further away. His scent really was soothing, and it almost reminded her of home.

  “My Mother. Short and to the point, while being as vague as possible.” His smile revealed that his words were affectionate rather than anything else, and it warmed Odette’s heart to see such a pure love. Clearly she wasn’t the only woman in existence who loved her children so much it hurt. Or was loved in return.

  “What does she mean though?”

  “That depends. Have you lost anything recently?” he asked with a slight laugh.

  “Not recently.” She sounded sad, even to herself.

  “Tell me,” he whispered, turning so he was facing her. She was glad they were alone, her attendants gone to do whatever it was they did during the day. Even so, the two of them shouldn’t be standing as close as they were, nor should they be speaking in such hushed tones. To be completely fair, they probably shouldn’t be in the same room alone together. And yet, they were. And it felt natural, just like it felt natural for tell him about her past. He listened with rapt attention, not interrupting and waiting patiently for her to finish.

  “And now, I don’t know what to do. I want to fly, but I can’t, and then there’s my children...” she trailed off, tears welling in her eyes.

  “Please don’t cry,” he whispered, stepping around so that he was standing in front of her. To her surprise, he lifted a hand and brushed away a stray tear.

  “I’m sorry...”

  “No, don’t be sorry either,” he murmured, before leaning forward and capturing her lips with his. She wasn’t sure what made him do it, nor was she sure what made her respond in kind, but she was soon kissing him back, with a passion she’d never before experienced. This was what she’d always hoped her first kiss would be, not the forced submission to the King. At least this made up for it now.

  She broke the kiss, and looked up at him, seeing his green eyes sparkle. “Wow,” the word slipped from her mouth before she could stop it.

  “Yes, wow.” His voice was low. He was clearly as affected as she was. “I need to go now though, I need to go find you your cloak.”

  “You do?” she squeaked.

  “Yes. And I promise you, Odette, I’ll find it and set you free.”

  2

  The palace was an absolute labyrinth, and Stefan hated it already. There were so many people about that he couldn’t even search properly either. How he was going to find a cloak of dark feathers was beyond him. But his Mother had sent him here, telling him this was where he needed to be, while his sister, Sierra, had nodded along. Which was about when he knew he couldn’t ignore them. Both of them were powerful witches and seers in their own rights, but together, they were pretty formidable.

  He was never sure whether he envied Sierra her powers or not. She’d inherited most of their Mother’s magic, with a small sprinkling of their Father’s, mostly the ability to shift into a wolf, but her senses weren’t what they should be in that form. That was the side Stefan had picked up. Even in human form, his senses were unparalleled, and teamed with a little of his Mother’s tracking magic, there wasn’t anything he couldn’t find.

  Except for a damn cloak of feathers. Though it probably wasn’t helping that he couldn’t seem to get his mind off Odette. He wasn’t sure what had told him he needed to kiss her, but it had been one hell of a kiss, like nothing he’d ever experienced before. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the errant thoughts. She was the Queen, there was no way she should be kissing anyone, never mind someone like him. Sure, he’d grown up at a Royal Court, and the monarchs had treated him as if he was their own son. At one point, he was sure they hoped he’d fall for their daughter too, but time had passed and nothing had grown between him and Princess Yasmine. She was more like a sister to him anyway. But despite all that, he was no one. His grandmother had been a lady’s maid, and his grandfather a woodcutter, and that was only on his Mother’s side. On his Father’s, he was even less. Apparently his Mother had refused any offers of a title that Queen Keira had tried to give, until the point that Keira had stopped offering. At least in public. Knowing the woman as he did, he suspected both she and her husband still tried to convince his parents to accept.

  Until they did, he really was no one. He shouldn’t even be at a foreign Court, they’d probably kick him out if they discovered the truth. Or the King would, he wasn’t so sure about Odette, maybe she’d vouch for him now. If not for the kiss they’d shared, then for her chance at freedom. His heart had broken for her as she’d told him her story. All he’d wanted was to pull her into his arms and comfort her, even if it was highly inappropriate to do so.

  He had other things he needed to consider once he’d found her cloak though. Where would she go? By the sounds of it, she loved her children and would hate being parted from them, which meant he’d need to find a way to get them out of the palace as well.

  Luckily, it was night, ad there weren’t too many people about, unless he counted all the people who were having affairs and secret rendezvous. Which was a surprising amount really. There was a lack of morality in this Court that made him long for his own. Keira and Philip would never have allowed their people to carry on like this. But then again, Philip would never set the example that King Ennardo was. When the King was openly having affairs with at least three women and another man, then the people were going to see that as something that wasn’t only acceptable, but should be emulated. He chuckled to himself softly. He hadn’t realised that his opinion on people was so low. Well, not people, just Court people. They were far too impressionable.

  He made his way down the corridor, being as quiet as possible. He couldn’t see or hear anyone in his immediate vicinity, but that didn’t mean that couldn’t change at any moment. In fact, knowing his luck, it would change. For some reason, Sierra had got all the luck in his family.

  He came to the ornate double doors that indicated the King’s rooms. He was uneasy, very much so, it was hard not to be when being caught in there would likely end with him short of a head, at the very least. There was also a chance of general dismemberment too. Slowly, he turned the handle, glad
that the attendants in the palace were so attentive, and that they wouldn’t let any of the doors squeak.

  When there was just enough room for him to squeeze through, Stefan entered the King’s chambers. He really wished he didn’t have to be here, but this was the most likely place for Odette’s cloak to actually be. Nowhere else made sense. Other than the treasury, but Stefan doubted it’d be there. Too many other people had access, and came and went on a daily basis, it wouldn’t be safe to keep anything so secretive there.

  It was surprisingly still in the chambers, not to mention dark, though there was a soft glow of light from one of the doorways. He suspected that was the one that led to the King’s bedchamber, and hoped that he wouldn’t actually have to find out. There were rumours of what he’d witness if he went in that room, and he wasn’t in any hurry to actually find out if they were true. Though the soft sighs and giggles coming from it confirmed it enough really. Stefan shivered. Now he really hoped that Odette’s cloak wasn’t in there.

  He glanced around, trying to picture the palace plans in his head, and suddenly thankful that his Father had made him memorise them. At first, Stefan had been confused as to why he was being made to do it, especially given that he was a grown man and no longer technically under his parents control. Except that no one, not even royalty, said no to his Mother. Everyone listen to her, without exception. And she was the one that’d told him he had to come here. So he’d done exactly what she said.