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Story 1: The Blue Feather
Warlocks, Beggar Girl, Revenge
CHAPTER 1
The sun was hidden from those of us below the mistline. When the fog dissipated, for a few precious hours, dappled golden light found its way through the leaves above, and I smiled as it warmed my skin. This was my favorite time of day: when the riches of the king’s forest were revealed to us scavengers. I collected wild bitterroots and hoped to catch a silvery fish from the stream for supper. Fortunately, the duchess turned a blind eye to the orphans and the young. But even her mercy had limits.
At nearly sixteen, I was definitely pushing them — not that I had a choice.
I pressed my fingers against the bark of a cypress’s trunk, blinking away the threatening faintness. I tilted my face up, away from the caked dirt between my toes, soaking up the sunlight. An overhead branch bobbed in the breeze, and I caught a glimpse of bright blue feathers between the leaves.
Blue?
A cool wind moved the limb again, and I sucked in a breath and the sapphire plumes. The forest had plenty of birds in every shade of brown. I’d seen some with yellow breasts and on rare occasion red, but I’d never seen anything so vibrant in the forest.
Don’t muck this up, Ibina. I rolled my lips together, making a plan.
If I gathered the dropped feathers, they might fetch a decent price from Hasraz, the merchant. If I could catch the bird, even better.
Please, don’t let it get away. I sent a silent prayer to Anzu.
I grabbed a lower limb and swung my legs over, hoisting myself into the tree. The loose, knee-length cut of my dress made it easier to climb. My only accessories were a thin rope for a belt and the pouch I tucked over it. I pulled myself higher, listening and feeling for any sign of weakness in the branches. As luck would have it, the small creature stayed on her branch . . . at the top of the tree. I climbed tentatively as the branches thinned. If I fell, I’d be more of a burden to my sister, Mali, who’d always taken care of us.
Movement above caused the branch under my feet to quiver, making my stomach drop. I craned my neck upward, and my eyes widened in surprise. Not only was the bird larger than I’d expected, but the blue on her chest was so deep it was almost purple . . . unlike any animal I’d ever seen. Where had the bird come from? Was it from one of the magic-held noble households above the mistline?
My mouth watered. The only thing I knew was those feathers would fetch enough money to feed us for a month. The meat, dried properly, could last even longer.
The bird flapped her wings, but she was caught in a tangle of branches. She was knocked back to her perch with a screech, sending feathers down in a cascade of cobalt. Oh dear, Anzu, so many feathers! This would be the most rewarding scavenging trip of my life.
I pulled myself level with the creature. It had to weigh at least a stone, slightly smaller than a turkey. Yet . . . my mouth dried as I considered the bird. Something about her filled me with awe; perhaps because she was so wonderfully unique or her graceful lines.
“You’re someone’s pet,” I whispered with certainty. At my voice, the bird tucked her wings and turned toward me. Her orange eyes sparkled, as if they were made from the tears of the gods. Goosebumps prickled down my arms, despite the temperature. Her long tail feathers flared, revealing delicate strokes of red. I reached for her. I should ring her neck. With no place to go, the bird was mine. Me and my sister’s security was within reach. My fingertips grazed her feathers, and she simply tilted her head, inspecting me with her jeweled eyes.
I hesitated.
I should kill the bird. It would mean a month of security. It was a gift from Anzu I couldn’t ignore. Could I? I pulled back. It felt wrong to hurt this creature. I chewed my lip, and thought of my sister begging at the falcon gate. But something about the bird made my heart ache.
How could I save them both?
I stared at the bird, and a plan unfurled in my mind. A risky . . . impossible plan. But I had to try.
If I could safely capture the bird and return it to its owner, our reward might be much greater. The bird would be saved, and we could eat. But finding the owner above the mistline when I wasn’t allowed through the hillside gates would take planning. Plus, the guards would definitely want a significant bribe.
“Did Anzu send you to me? Did she know I’d take care of you?” I cooed, as I worked the branches away from her. “It might actually be worth working with Hasraz to see the smug look wiped off his face. He’s the most arrogant merchant, but he’s the only one who comes to our square who has access above the mistline.”
I pulled a net from the pouch at my waist and secured the bird. I carefully tucked her against my chest and descended the tree with my treasure in tow. I secured the bird in a wide, notched out area on a lower branch, hidden from any other young scavengers. I was one of the oldest, but it would be a mistake to underestimate even the youngest child.
“I’ll be back before sunset—”
The bird jutted her beak forward, pecking me just above my wrist.
“Ouch!” I jerked my arm away. “That’s a fine thanks for not eating you,” I grumbled.
I jumped down and both of my feet landed on the ground with a soft thump. I quickly gathered all the plumes and hid them in a natural hollow at the base of the tree, except for a single medium-sized feather that I tucked into my belt.
The sun was almost at its highest point, and my stomach grumbled. I’d been saving a spot of well-hidden mushrooms, waiting for them to grow bigger before I harvested them, but I needed to get through two sets of guards and back to the forest before dark; they were the only sure way to do it.
Be quick. Be careful. And don’t get caught. My sister’s oft-repeated warning came to mind. I gazed one last time at the quiet bird before I hurried northwest along an animal track, deeper in the forest.
My mind wandered back to Mali, my sister. She’d been asking me more and more if the guards had taken special interest in me yet. I was thin, even for a beggar, but I’d been binding my chest, just to be safe. But Kuda, a protector for the Sand Dragons, had pulled me aside yesterday after supper.
“It’s time for you to change your daily activities, Ibina,” Kuda had said in the alley. The clanging of wooden spoons against kettles and children fussing for their dinner just around the corner. “The guards are going to want more than a cut of the items you find. And Malihi will be crushed if you’re hurt.”
I’d bitten back a sarcastic reply that he was only pretending to care because he’d had a crush on Mali since they were young enough to scavenge in the forest.
Instead I’d said, “There’s no place for me at the falcon gate. And the peasant gate is only for the destitute.”
“There’d be space for you at the falcon gate if you could afford protection. But we both know you’ll be a better thief than a beggar.”
I had winced, knowing what his words meant. My sister was a rare beauty and a profitable beggar. I was neither.
“As a thief, it’s not if but when I’m caught,” I said. At some point, I’d be caught and whipped. My hand would be ruined and my sister couldn’t afford the care I’d need. Which meant I’d be slowly starving to death as I sat at the peasant gate. I dreaded it, but complaining would only burden Mali.
“You have skill, you just need more practice.” There was a distant hardness to Kuda’s voice, practically an admission that he agreed with my fate.
I shook off the conversation with Kuda, determined to enjoy my days in the forest for as long as possible. The forest around me grew more dense as I drew nearer to the king’s hunting grounds. I slowed, listening. If scavengers were caught by any noblemen, the duchess would not protect us. In fact, her guards always reminded us that we’d be flogged if we crossed into the highly desirable game territory. Still, some beggars risked getting caught this close to the border because barberries and shelf mushrooms were easier to find.
I chewed a bitterroot while I waited to be sure I was alone. Then I climbed a pine tree where a dozen small mushrooms waited. While shoving the first one into my bag, I heard voices. Deep voices.
I gripped the tree trunk, straining to hear where the voices were coming from before I peered around the side. This part of the forest wasn’t completely sparse, but I was exposed up in the tree. I spotted several tall figures approaching, footsteps and the rustling of leaf litter growing louder. I hid myself as best I could and pressed up against the tree, my heart pounding. I’d never seen an adult in this part of the forest. Those who could afford the privilege of hunting in the king’s forest had far better grounds than these.
“We should split up,” a man with a baritone voice said.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you,” a woman shot back, venom in her voice.
“I’m the only one who knows this forest, so unless you want to all be lost in your quest for favoritism, I suggest you stay with me,” another man, this one with a nasally voice, ended the brief argument of the other two.
They continued past my hiding place without stopping. When the three figures were well beyond my tree, I dared breathe. I dropped my forehead to the bark of the trunk and almost laughed in relief, but I swallowed it when a fourth figure passed by, a few steps behind the others. I shifted to put the tree trunk between us. He was shorter than the others, but my attention snagged on his blue cloak, a similar hue to the bird.
He paused, and I froze. He turned and scanned the forest. I pressed my fingers into the bark, sending a silent prayer to Anzu to protect me. His cowl hid much of his face. From what I could see, he didn’t look much older than me, but he was clearly much better fed.
His attention lingered around the shrubs below me. He didn’t drop his hood, but I could see the curve of his nose and the sharp angle of his jaw. His gaze moved up the trunk, and I hoped between the branches and my clothing that he wouldn’t spot me. I held my breath as his attention grew closer and closer to where I stood. Then his dark eyes found me, pinning me to the tree. We seemed to stare at each other for eternity, and the air charged with intensity.
Then . . . he turned away, breaking the spell. He strode after his companions, disappearing deeper into the king’s forest. I wrapped my arms around the trunk, sucking in one unsteady breath after another. Only warlocks wore cloaks like that, or so the rumors said. Either he thought I was a child and took pity, or he didn’t see me at all. I didn’t know which, and I tried to convince myself that I didn’t care.
I shoved all the mushrooms into my pouch and then bolted to the guards’ station. If the strangers kept going on their same path, they would be too far north to discover the bird. Still, as adults were never in that part of the forest, I guessed they intended something unsavory. I’d have to be careful not to run into them when I returned. I needed to inquire after the bird, without drawing attention, and return to hide it in an even better location.
<<>>
Fortune was on my side as one of the nicer guards was on duty.
“Take care of that injury,” the guard said as I handed over my pouch for inspection.
I was annoyed to see a thin trickle of dried blood leading to the spot above my wrist where the bird had stabbed me with her beak.
“Can’t have you getting hurt,” The guard continued as he took his bribe: half of the mushrooms. “You’re the best forager in the city.”
My face flushed at his emphasis on the last sentence. Kuda was right. Even this guard was giving me a not-so-subtle warning. According to the laws, no one was allowed in the king’s forest unless they paid a handsome fee. But the duchess had allowed young orphans to scavenge. I didn’t know if it was to protect the children or her guards, but once we reached maturity, we were no longer welcome. I mumbled my thanks and raced across the hard-packed road toward the peasant gate, the smaller of the two entrances on the eastern side of the city.
While I waited at the back of the long line of people waiting to enter, the discomfort in my forearm grew from a nagging soreness to a deep thrumming ache. I pressed on the wound and then pulled back with a hiss. I needed to clean it soon. We couldn’t afford medicine.
Then again, perhaps with the money from the feathers, I might be able to afford many things I’d only dreamed of before.
I ran a finger over the soft feather, checking to make sure it was hidden. As the line moved forward, I glanced at the city wall, stretching into the distance, up a hill, and curving out of sight. Mali didn’t beg at this gate. Only those who could not find a finger’s span of space at the falcon gate bothered with an entrance through the lower quarters. At the peasant gate, the guard searched my pouch and helped himself to half of my remaining mushrooms. Once I was allowed through, I followed the twists and turns of the narrow streets toward my section of the city: home.
I rarely found anything worth trading with a merchant. Beggars usually bartered with each other. I’d never done business with Hasraz, but I knew his reputation. He was a hard-nosed man who commanded the best spot in the square, but he was the only bird dealer I knew of and the only merchant with access to the noble houses above the mistline. Hasraz drove hard bargains, constantly complaining about the poor quality game delivered to him in our sector. But what did he expect when only children could hunt and were confined to an area only rich in squirrels and snakes? On a very good day, someone would bring a partridge or even a pheasant. This feather would get his attention. Maybe too much attention.
I chewed the inside of my cheek, feeling a warning rise inside me. But it was just my nerves. I’d done some business with other merchants, so I knew what to do. And none of the fulxes, including the Sand Dragons, had ever cut off business with Hasraz, so the merchant had not burned bridges in the past. I’d be fine; I’d ask my questions and be back in the forest within the hour.
As I entered the merchant square, unease crawled down my spine. Most of the carts were hand-held, while the wealthier merchants had donkeys. Hasraz was a large man, with beefy hands and a perfectly trimmed beard. Quail dangled on a string along a bar over his wagon, their black, lifeless eyes looking past me.
The sun beat down, sending a trickle of sweat down my back. Hasraz was tightening the harness on his donkey, preparing to leave. I bounced on my heels and took a deep breath. I knew he and other merchants sometimes went to other sections of the city for weeks at a time. What if he didn’t come back tomorrow? Or the next day?
The smell of smoked carp and spices made my stomach growl. My days in the forest were numbered. I needed to do proper business with these merchants today so I could more easily steal from them tomorrow. No sense in delaying the inevitable. I marched over to Hasraz’s cart, but stumbled halfway across the square. I flushed, but at least I righted myself before the merchant turned in my direction.
“Excuse me, Hasraz, I have something you’ll be interested in.” At least I sounded more confident than I felt.
He glared down at me, sweat dripping down the side of his face. “I’m all done this afternoon, girl. If you have something to show me, send your sister. At least her face is pleasing and she doesn’t stink like a corpse.”
I shuddered, realizing the merchant had taken note of my doe-eyed sister. “She’s begging at the gate. She needs to work while the skies are clear.”
The merchant snapped his fingers at an unfortunate child who happened to be lingering nearby, and they scurried to find Mali. My stomach dropped; I didn’t want her speaking on my behalf — for both our sakes. I yanked the feather from my belt and shoved it toward the merchant.
He gave an exaggerated shrug, yet his eye’s glinted. An uncomfortable feeling niggled inside me, like snakes slithering in my gut. But, perhaps this was normal for Hasraz.
He plucked the feather out of my hand. I opened my mouth to object, but I needed Hasraz’s cooperation, not an argument. He ran a light finger across the edge of the feather, along the tiny strip of red I hadn’t noticed when I’d picked it up. He cleared his throat, and his face hardened.
“This is a poor specimen. See how the feather spine is broken in three places? The vane is crumpled throughout.” He dug his stick in the ground, making symbols I didn’t recognize, though I knew he was calculating a price. “If you could bring me a fresher, undamaged feather, it would be worth much more. Possibly even enough to feed your beautiful sister for a month.”
He seemed to forget I needed to eat, too. Still . . .
“A month?” My mouth watered at the thought of prunes and apricots dipped in honey. Of course, my sister would never allow for such an extravagance, but I could dream.
A peddler approached Hasraz with a plump turkey with shiny feathers, but the merchant sent him away, all without taking his attention off me. I knew a turkey would fetch a good price higher on the hill.
My hands started to shake. Hasraz was far too interested in the feather. Suddenly my sister’s words shouted in my head.
Be quick. Be careful. Don’t get caught.
I hadn’t done anything wrong, but the urge to flee was overwhelming. I snatched the feather from his hand and stepped back.
“That is a very good offer. I will return to where I found this broken old feather and continue to search all week.” I lied, giving him a slight bow of subservience.
The merchant grabbed my wrist before I could blink. “Thief! This wretch has stolen from my cart!”
My heart jumped into my throat.
“Keep the feather,” I gasped, shoving it back toward him. I looked to the peddler to speak on my behalf, but he slunk away as Hasraz took the crumpled feather from my hand.
A familiar figure rushed toward us. Mali’s long dress whipped around her body as she marched, her arms swinging.
“I will take the punishment,” my older sister shouted. Her raven black braid was slung like a thick rope over her shoulder, loose tendrils framing her full lips and large eyes.
“As is right you should.” The merchant spoke to her, but he looked at me, his eyes dark and menacing. “Though with a damaged hand, you will hurt your chances of fetching a decent husband.”
He wanted to be sure I knew the consequences. But why? The hundred ways this moment was going to destroy my life were already running through my mind.
“I didn’t steal that feather!” I proclaimed my innocence, trying to shake him off. His grip only tightened and he pressed the heel of his hand across my arm. I bit back a cry and shot to my toes sensing his threat to snap the bone. How had everything gone so wrong so quickly?
I’d been too slow. Reckless. And I’d been caught.
I turned my head, desperate for someone to help, but I already knew that no one would speak for me. A merchant was two rungs above my caste. Who would dare speak against him? The Sand Dragons couldn’t even step in for anyone in their fulx with city guards nearby, especially when the law tended to believe respected merchants.
“I’ll take the lashing,” I whimpered.
Some merchants turned away, not wanting to watch what came next. But more moved closer, practically salivating at the show. The harder I tried not to tremble, the harder I shook. My thieving days were over before they even began. I’d be marked as a thief, with fingers too scarred for quick grasping.
“Your sister will take the punishment, as is her right as your guardian,” The merchant spoke loudly as if he was putting on a morose theater performance. “And you insult her further by insinuating otherwise.”
I felt dozens of people staring, boring holes into the back of my skull. I was disrespecting my sister by arguing, especially in the public square, but I couldn’t allow her to take my punishment.
Mali shot me a desperate look, silently begging me to be obedient. Then she turned and held out her perfect, clean hand.
“The law dictates twenty lashings.” The merchant puffed himself up.
“No,” I hissed.
The merchant pulled me closer, and dropped his voice, though I could still smell the strong cheese and meat on his breath. “Give me the bird.”
“W-what?” I stammered.
He shoved me to the ground and my arm collapsed under my weight. My head slammed against the cobblestones. The market swam around me, the sounds muffled and the ground tilted. I tried to push myself up, but pain shot up my arm causing my ears to ring. I fell to my side, pulling my arm into my chest, tears blurring my vision.
A scream cut through the air, pulling me like a fish on a hook out of the depths of my pain.
Leather snapped across Mali’s hands. My sister cried out, again. She stood in front of the merchant, her body shaking.
“You can have all the feathers,” I pleaded. My tongue felt too big for my mouth. “I’ll go right now and search through the night. I’ll stay past curfew. As Anzu is my witness, I’ll find every plume!”
The merchant looked down, a look of disgust across his face. His lips drew back like a feral dog. If my sister collapsed, I didn’t doubt the merchant would be less careful about where the whip landed. He’d already injured my sister, and without the bird, any hope of medicine and treatment was gone with it.
The merchant brought down the leather with another sickening smack. My sister fell to her knees.
“I’ll get you the bird!” I screamed, tears blinding me.
But the merchant didn’t stop.
I promised him all the feathers. The bird. All my wages. My first born. Anything I could think of. But the lashes kept coming.
“That’s ten lashes, Hasraz.” Kuda stepped past the crowd.
“Ten lashes is the minimum required.” Hasraz lifted the leather above his head. “The law entitles me to twenty.”
I crawled forward, ignoring my throbbing skull. I touched the hem of Hasraz’s pants, numbly repeating my blubbered promises.
Kuda braced my sister against him, holding her upright. He couldn’t take her away without Hasraz’s permission. The crowd quieted, waiting to see what the merchant would do.
Hasraz let the leather fly, snapping against my sister’s flesh. Panic shot through me and my fist tightened on the merchant’s pants.
“It’s in the woods. I’ll take you!” Desperation filled my voice. What else did this man want?
His nostrils flared as he looked down at me. “You’ll take me now.”
“Anything!”
The moment Hasraz released my sister from his grip, she collapsed into Kuda. And he thanked the merchant for his compassion.
Thanked him.
I wanted his eyes to be plucked out and left to die in the great desert.
CHAPTER 2
I sat on my sister’s mat at the falcon gate at dawn. I hadn’t seen the merchant in five days. Even if he did return, the Sand Dragon fulx was never doing business with him again. He’d still get business from the Vipers and other fulxes on the eastside, but never from us.
The fog was thinning enough for me to see Kuda’s scowl. My sister had begged him to let me have her spot, but the Sand Dragon’s weren’t happy about it. She had thanked them several times for allowing me to use her mat. I found her groveling ridiculous as we’d already paid our protection fees for the month, so it seemed only fair. Still, my sister’s fawning did the trick, and Kuda escorted me, personally. I could never be as good at smoothing ruffled feathers the way Mali did.
The first day, Kuda cleared away a haughty woman with a ridiculously bright orange scarf who had taken Mali’s spot before I’d arrived. Of course one of the Vipers would pounce on an opportunity.
Kuda was the protector of several beggars in our fulx at the falcon gate. He interfered if there were any fights over coins or coveted spots. Going against him meant having the Sand Dragons come down on you. No one wanted that. Even Hasraz, though the law protected his lies and actions, wouldn’t risk being in our sector without a city guard or five nearby.
The merchant had followed me into the forest, but I’d kept a healthy distance in front of him at all times. I climbed the tree and lowered the bird down, knowing there was a good chance Hasraz would hurt me or worse once he got the creature in his possession.
I’d even given him all the feathers, just as I’d promised. No merchant would dare cross Hasraz and buy them from me now, anyway.
“Keep one for yourself,” Hasraz had sneered, tossing the first one with the broken vanes into the dirt. “It’ll remind you never to cross your betters. You’re not worthy to clean my chamber pot, let alone try to barter with a creature this fine. You are a street beggar. You’ll never be anything different.”
Wagons floating past pulled me out of my reverie. Beggars around me called out for compassion. For charity. For coin. They cited needing to feed their sick mother, their young siblings. I sat on my mat, my hand outstretched crying that I needed help feeding my baby.
One would think that would get the best response, but apparently I didn’t have my sister’s facial expressions to go with my request. I worried my sister would die of starvation long before infection. I brushed the blue feather, deciding it would remind me of my spite and determination to survive.
“How is Mali?” Geotema asked. The elderly woman was toothless and her reflexes were slowing. I’d overheard her ask Kuda for an extension on the dues she owed him. Once beggars fell behind on protections, and the other beggars found out, it . . . never ended well. In the end, not even Geotema could escape the fate of all beggars: the peasant gate.
“My sister will be back. Some day,” I said. Mali’s hands were bruised and the broken edges of skin were swollen and red. The bones had been crudely re-set, and we thought she was recovering. Then yesterday she developed a fever. But she would recover. She had to. “When our protection ends, I’ll figure something else out.”
The old woman gave a sage nod. She glanced at my arm, and I realized I was rubbing it again. I quickly dropped my hand away, not wanting to reveal how much it ached.
I’d washed my wound left by the bird’s beak several times in the salty water of the port. I’d even boiled water for a proper scrubbing. But the area around the wound was darkening as the ache deepend. My sister and I were a fine pair.
A carriage floated toward the gate. The wealthy could afford wagons with retracting wheels. While they were on the king’s roads, they could hover about six hands’ high above the cobblestones, like a boat on the seas, but without the water. The nobles kept the secrets of magic hidden, so the rest of us could only guess at how it worked.
A stern-looking woman inside the carriage tossed out a few bronze coins, hardly sparing us a glance. Two of them fell on Geotema’s mat, and she fumbled to pick them up. The Viper with the orange scarf in front of us leaned back. The movement was small and smooth, but I didn’t miss her far hand removing the only bronze coin out of the elder woman’s bag.
“You’d make a good thief.” My nostrils flared. “But not quite good enough. Give the coin back.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” the woman said, a smug look on her face. She was under the Viper’s protection and technically, Geotema had none. How the Vipers had figured that out, I didn’t know.
Geotema glanced into her pouch and paled. She looked to Kuda, but he gave her a slight shake of his head. I fisted my hands in my lap, anger festering deep inside me like a poisonous wound.
I narrowed my gaze at the Viper-thief, but she just grinned. “You need to learn to pick your battles, child. This old woman isn’t worth it. Your sister would’ve known that, but she’s not here, is she?”
Heat unfurled from my belly, and I flew toward her. People shouted around us, but I barely registered it as I yanked back the woman’s hair.
“The coin doesn’t belong to you!” I screamed.
“Kuda, get your dog off me!” she demanded, but her words were muffled under me.
From the corner of my eye, I noticed the Viper protector and Kuda both rushing toward us. I grabbed the woman’s bag and jumped up. If I was in trouble again, I’d make sure I actually deserved the punishment.
And I dumped her coins.
Bronze glittered in the sun as the coins bounced off her face and shoulders. The nearest beggars dove for them without question. I picked one up and handed it to the elderly woman.
Her body was trembling, but she held out her hand. I pressed it to her palm, just as Kuda grabbed me by the back of the neck.
“What are you thinking?” he growled.
“Wait!” another woman’s voice shouted. “Guards!”
Kuda froze, and I shifted enough to see the stern woman exiting her carriage. Her hand was up, signaling for a gate guard.
It was just my luck that a nosy, wealthy woman would insert herself into beggar’s affairs.
“Anzu help you, Ibina!” Kuda cursed.
There was little he could do against Hasraz, and absolutely nothing he could do when confronted by someone from above the mists and a guard. I hoped Kuda would grab me and run, but no such luck. Kuda was a known Sand Dragon. If he wanted to keep his job, he couldn’t make trouble with the city guards.
“Bring the girl here,” the woman demanded.
Kuda held me until the guard gripped my upper arm and yanked me to the wealthy woman. She wore a long, white linen dress with an embroidered edge and a gold belt. Her hair was tidy, pulled up into a tight bun. I dropped my gaze to her gold embellished sandals, wishing the ground would swallow me up.
“Who is this girl?” she asked Kuda.
“She is Ibina of the eastern gate,” Kuda responded.
“Is she available to come work for me?” She spoke to Kuda.
My jaw dropped. After this woman had seen me attack someone, I could only imagine why she would want me anywhere near her or her household.
“What would you have her do?” Kuda asked, his expression guarded.
Obviously, this woman understood the rules of the streets: for better or for worse, I was tied to my fulx, and it would be easier if they gave their permission for whatever job this woman had in mind. I shuddered at what she might want of me.
She looked down her nose, giving me an appraising look. “Be a servant in a household above the mistline.”
The guard next to me stiffened, and Kuda’s eyes widened. But no one was more surprised than me. Instead of some dire punishment, this woman was offering me a chance to leave — to live and work above the mistline.
<<>>
Story 2: The Dragon Fae’s Curse
Curses, Fairies & Princesses, Dragons
CHAPTER 1
The smithy’s shop pushed up against the castle, as if trying to smash through the stone, stuck in a never-ending battle with the palace. The shop’s terra-cotta, shingled roof practically grew out of the majestic granite structure where my family lived. I figured my presence at the forge still counted as adherence to Mama’s prescribed confinement, “for my own good—as well as that of the kingdom.” In any case, it was the furthest away I could get from the throne room and the inevitable questions that made me sick.
After fourteen years, one would think the courtiers would’ve learned the consequences of talking to me—of pestering me for information. At the very least, one would think my sister would understand. But no. So the blacksmith’s shop was my refuge: fire, old stones, and the scent of red-hot metal burning down my throat.
“Princess Malor, shouldn’t you be preparin’ for one of those fancy banquets?” the smithy, Old Man Isanov asked, plunging a pauldron into the cooling tank. The metal hissed, and steam billowed into the air, hiding the smith, but his voice crawled through the cloud. “The northern duke, LeCourant, and his family are visitin’. Rumor is they’re here to discuss the trouble beyond our borders.”
“All the way from Rosekeep?” My brow furrowed as I considered how long they would’ve traveled to get here—at least two weeks. “Did you hear anything else?”
“Nay,” Isanov said, shaking his head at me as the mist disappeared. “I don’t have time for gossip. However, it’s not every day the duke and duchess visit. Shouldn’t you be gettin’ ready for some royal welcome?”
I snorted with disgust. First, Isanov might not have time for gossip, but the old man was a treasure trove of it. As for a state dinner. . . “No. No feasts for me.”
Isanov was good at keeping my identity secret, but if he knew the truth of my curse, he’d know better than to ask such foolish questions.
I focused on the sword in front of me, wiping my finger down the pristine blade Isanov had repaired earlier in the day. The weapon was made of the finest steel, and whatever repair had been done was seamless and indistinguishable from the rest of the blade. “And I wish you’d call me Princess Mal.”
“No chance a’that. If the queen were to hear such things . . .” He gave a low whistle.
“How is your grandson?” I changed the subject, as much for me as for him. I preferred not to talk about my family—that ground was too dangerous to trod.
“Thanks to you, he’ll be fine.” Isanov set the shoulder armor on the anvil and grinned. “Yes, I know t’was you who sent the healer.”
I wanted to deny it. I wanted to tell him a gracious white lie, but even thinking about deceiving him made my stomach churn.
Princesses were humble; or so my tutors still seared into my mind. But my curse made that all but impossible.
“I’m glad to hear he’s improving.” The truth slid from my mouth, and my queasiness abated. I’d learned that keeping my responses simple was the best way to skirt the consequences of Nox’s curse.
The door to the smithy opened with a clang, announcing a patron, and I skirted away from the hearth and ducked into the shadows. Knights often came and went, and they rarely paid me any mind, but even so, it was easier to avoid an encounter than steer a conversation. A young man strode in, wearing a sleeveless gray tunic of fine spun wool, and his muscular arms and broad shoulders declared him at the very least a squire, and possibly a knight. His swagger made me reconsider the possibility of a nobleman, and I stiffened. I’d spent the better part of my life with a myriad of tutors, as I’d stirred up too much trouble when interacting with courtiers.
The young lord stood silhouetted by the sunlight, the warm yellows and golds casting his features in shadow, but he was tall—well over six feet in height—and moved with the lithe grace of a skilled fighter. I’d seen many nobles and knights from the shadows, but I didn’t recognize him.
“Master Smith, is my weapon ready?”
“Master Jae,” Isanov straightened and set his tools aside. He bustled around the forge to greet the young man. “You’re early, but I finished your sword just this morning.” The smith pulled the case from a shelf and then shuffled around his shop, looking for the piece as he continued, “It’s a beautiful weapon, sir. Whatever did you do to damage the cross guard?”
My gaze jumped to the sword in my hands, specifically to the thin metal guard perpendicular to the blade. Most knights of King’s Valley had Isonov’s signature stamp on the steel, but the one in my hands had been crafted by a smithy in a different city. Realization struck me, and I inwardly groaned. This was the young man’s sword . Stepping away from the back wall, I brought the blade out to its owner. “It’s here.”
The young man, Jae, jerked his chin up, his green eyes narrowing at my approach. With a thatch of dark hair tied at the nape of his neck, his sharp features were on full display. With each of my steps, the intensity of his gaze increased, and I dropped my chin and quickly set the sword in its case.
“It’s a fine blade,” I said, my mouth suddenly dry. “How did you acquire it? Draconian steel is rare.”
Forged by the fairies, draconian steel had dragon scales mixed in the metal, making it impossible to destroy. The weapon was priceless—especially considering the threat of the North were dragons.
“Thank you,” he said. “It was once my father’s and his before that. I received it as a fifteenth birthday gift this year.” He puffed out his chest as he spoke to me, and then turned to Isanov. “I damaged it in a dueling contest in the North and didn’t have time to have it repaired before we left.”
Fifteen? He looked several years older than his stated age—and very handsome. Not that I noticed… or cared. And dueling?
“You’re hardly old enough to be a squire,” I blurted. “Why are you risking injury playing in duels against men twice your age?”
The young man’s attention jumped back to me, and the muscles in his neck tightened. “If you think that, it’s more than just the soldiers in King’s Valley who’ve grown naive and lazy. The people of the northern dukedom are more concerned with being prepared for battle than looking pretty… or spouting poems about lofty ideals.”
I blinked, stunned at his jab—not only at me, but also the king’s knights. “There are dueling contests here. In fact, there’s one tomorrow. If you’re so good, you should sign up.” My lip curled, and then I added, “I’m sure you’ll do very well.”
No sooner than I’d finished the last sentence—a definite lie, and a sharp pain sliced through my insides and twisted my gut. Bile burned the back of my throat, and I swallowed it down while cursing the horrid dragon fae, Nox. Sarcasm shouldn’t count as a lie.
Not that it seemed to bother the visiting knight.
“I already have,” Jae said as he inspected his sword.
Of course he had. Arrogant noble.
I pressed my hand against my abdomen, fighting the nausea. As much as I wanted to see this fool humbled, it wasn’t worth getting sick. I forced another swallow and straightened. “Actually, you should rethink signing up. You’re very young—”
“You look younger.” He raised a brow. “And why would you care—”
“That’s not the point,” I said, sharply. “You may mock the knights in King’s Valley, but they’re bigger, stronger, and more experienced than you. If you fight them, you’ll likely wind up dead.”
Speaking the truth stopped the pain, but a dull ache would remain for several hours. Stupid Mal. And for what? A traveling knight?
Jae’s eyes flashed with indignation. “Don’t you know that your king’s army grows fat while Nox’s army increases in numbers and strength beyond the border? Or perhaps you don’t care.”
I scoffed as irritation burned in my chest. How dare he? Returning his glare, I snapped, “I assure you the king—and the entire royal family—care about the sins of that dragon.”
Next to Jae, Isanov winced at my words, and even from the corner of my eye, I didn’t miss the look of sympathy on my friend’s face.
The young knight shook his head as if he knew better. “Your king hides his own daughter away rather than seek to defeat the dragon who dared upend her Wishing.”
Is that what the people thought?
His words pressed on me, adding weight and heat in the already stuffy room. Papa had requested the fairies work tirelessly to figure out a way to end my curse. What more could he do? I tugged at my collar, a bead of sweat running down my spine, but said nothing.
“Thank you for allowing me to work on your sword.” Isanov shot me a look, his brow creased with worry, and then steered the nobleman away.
The young man allowed the smith to lead him a couple of steps, and then pulled away and faced me, his lips pursed. After one long heartbeat, he said, “I’ve only visited here a few times over the years. Perhaps I’m mistaken in my assessment. I hope I am.”
But the way he said it… I didn’t believe he meant it. Not one bit.
Who was this stranger to dissect relationships he knew nothing of? He’d insulted the king, our soldiers… and now he offered pity?!
“You don’t know the first thing about the royal family,” I growled as Jae handed over a sack of coins to Isanov.
But then he didn’t leave. Instead, he moved closer to me, and I had the urge to punch him.
“You’re right, though it seems you know a lot about the royal family.” His eyes narrowed, and his gaze swept down my figure before returning to my face. “You look a bit familiar. Have we met?”
“I don’t believe so.” I’d have remembered his smug face.
“Do you work at the castle?” Jae pressed. “I arrived late last night. . .”
My mind spun with the revelation of who he was. I bit my lip, trying to keep the words from spilling before I had a chance to craft my words. “I’m often at the castle, but I don’t believe we’ve ever been introduced.” In fact, I knew my words were true. Only one noble family arrived last night: The Duke and Duchess LeCourant. And this would be their son—their younger son, Jaeseph.
Dragon’s teeth!
‘Aline,’ I silently called out in my mind to my Bonded faerie.
“Excuse me.” I turned away from the nobleman, pretending like I was tidying up.
‘I was about to fetch you,’ Aline answered in my mind. ‘I have great news.’
‘I need a glamour. And fast.’ I spoke to Aline. ‘I’m pretty sure Lord LeCourant’s youngest son is here, staring at me.’
‘Curses, Mal!’ Aline shouted back, and I could feel her panic as she drew closer. ‘I can’t leave you alone for one single moment!’
Trying to keep my back to the nobleman was awkward, but what choice did I have? Lord LeCourant wasn’t a regular visitor, and his son even less so. With any luck, he’d forget this meeting by the time we were officially introduced; hopefully years from now. I picked up a tool and put it away, knowing Isanov would have to get it right back out.
“Smithy!” Aline exclaimed as she flew through the open window in her true fae form, not much bigger than my palm. Her hummingbird-like wings beat with a low hum, completely drowned out by the roaring fires here. She pressed her fingers into her side, like she’d gotten a side ache, and her face was screwed up like she’d eaten a lemon. “I need . . . use of . . . your . . . apprentice . . .,” she huffed. “Immediately.”
Aline casually flew past me, and I felt the slight tingle of a glamour against my face.
‘It’s nothing drastic,’ Aline said. ‘And it won’t last long.’
I stepped full into the light, letting Jae get a good look at whatever face Aline had given me. “Try not to die in the tournament tomorrow.” I smirked at him, then to the smithy, who didn’t even react to my changed appearance. Clever man. “I’ll return when I can. Hopefully, tomorrow.”
‘Stop chatting, Mal! Look at the poor smithy, he’s about to drown in his own nervous sweat!’
‘He works in a forge hotter than the core of the earth. Of course, he’s sweating!’ I shot back as I followed Aline to the door.
Being bonded to a fairy had its perks. But Aline’s ability to share her every sarcastic comment was not one of them.
“We must be going,” Aline said with feigned cheerfulness, before changing to scolding tones just for me. ‘If you don’t report to the king before the next notch in the candle, they’ll send out the cavalry looking for you.’
I raised a brow. Papa hadn’t called for me in months. I rushed out the door, but still caught Jae commenting on my rudeness for not even asking permission of my master to leave, nor did I curtsy. Well, maybe he’d assume apprentices were just as lazy as the knights of the king’s valley. Insufferable nobles.
Aline and I hurried around the corner and ducked into the castle. The guards jumped out of Aline’s way, but me, dressed as a castle servant, they only gave a cursory glance.
“What was the ‘great news’ you wanted to tell me?” I asked once we were deep in the corridor and away from prying ears.
“The queen told me to make sure you’re presentable for the feast tonight.”
I skidded to a stop on the polished marble. “Tonight?” I blinked at her, my jaw working up and down while I tried to come up with something more to say.
“Well, I thought it was great until you bumped into the duke’s son dressed like a pauper. At least he’s the second born. No one will care what he thinks.”
As we strode down the hall, my mind swam. Beyond the embarrassment that the nobleman’s son might recognize me tonight, I had bigger worries. I’d been a child when I’d told a visiting dignitary of Struthia the hard truth rather than a polite lie. And while I now understood that telling someone their son looks like “a brutish old man” was uncouth and unacceptable, nine-year-old me did not. I felt compelled to tell the whole truth, and hadn’t quite understood the potential consequences.
I was better at biting my tongue now, but even holding back the truth cost me.
Nox’s curse haunted me everyday and everywhere I went. The Dragon Fae had only been in my home for a short time, but she’d left behind a Wishing gift that lasted every moment since she’d pronounced it. I’d be impressed with her handiwork if I hadn’t been so bitterly affected.
I kept my thoughts hidden from Aline, but I was sure she could sense my unease. Still, I delved deeper into my thoughts; the invitation made me wary. For years, I’d been hidden away. It was for the best, until my curse was broken. The queen was very particular about allowing me to be seen only from a distance. I thought Mama would prepare me for months before even the briefest, most informal meeting. My tutors were unrelenting of their lessons of the kingdoms, trade, and history. But, as I considered my last year of study, I couldn’t recall a single lesson relating to the niceties of the court.
I’d always assumed the king and queen intended to break Nox’s curse on me before they’d present me at court again. Or, at the very least, wait until I was twenty-five and they’d brokered a marriage contract without the poor fool ever meeting me.
But maybe I was wrong.
Maybe Mama thought I was ready. . .
“In here,” Aline looked behind us and then pulled me into a deep alcove.
“You’re sure the queen requested me?” I worried the edge of my sleeve, my heart racing. I desperately wanted another chance, but… This was so unexpected.
“Of course. It’s about time, too. Most royals are engaged from birth. As your parents waited to see which kingdom would be the best alliance, you and Bella are quickly becoming the king’s most valuable assets.”
I rolled my eyes. “You sure know how to make a princess feel special.”
Aline ran her wand through the air, starting at the top of my head. Pointing the carved wooden piece, she muttered under her breath and waved… all the way down to my toes. My hair tugged gently against my scalp, and my clothing shifted around my body.
My faerie grinned as she worked. “I nearly forgot what you looked like under that soot.”
I glanced down at her handiwork to find I now wore a deep red floor-length gown. My arms and shoulders were bare, except for the wide strip of material draped from the bodice to the back. The elbow-length gloves Aline had conjured were the same color as my dress, fading to black as they worked up my arms. As I shifted, the hem shimmered, casting dots of red light against the wall as something refracted the light. “Are those gems, Aline?”
“I’m borrowing them,” she said with a dismissive wave. “Don’t get excited.”
Inspecting them, I gasped. “Please tell me they aren’t my mother’s.”
“She’ll never know.” Aline waved off my concerns. “I’ll set them right back into the necklace they came from.”
“These are from her engagement necklace?” I croaked. “If you get caught—”
Aline grinned, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “You do look fantastic in rubies. This is going to set a trend. Just you wait. And your hair finally doesn’t smell like a forge.” She circled me before hovering in front of my face. “You’re welcome.” She tapped her wand against her chin and stared at my updo. “Which crown do you want?”
“Don’t think I didn’t notice you changing the subject. But thank you for asking. I simple circlet will do.”
“Noo!” Aline’s face fell. “Can we at least make it larger than Bella’s?”
As if besting my twin sister’s crown would help me manage the dangers of the evening. If I left it up to Aline, my crown would be so laden with jewels, my neck would break. “Sometimes I think you confuse boldness with obnoxiousness.”
“That’s not true,” she said, her eyes widening in feigned offense.
“Oh? Shall we get a confirmation?” I lifted my hand, pretending I was about to stop the next servant to pass down the hall.
“Stop,” Aline said with a shake of her head. “You know jokes can go awry far too easily. We can’t have you getting sick. Not tonight.”
Her words sobered me.
I straightened and led the way to the grand dining room. When the guard opened the door to the antechamber, only Bella and her faerie, Vaperina, were waiting in coordinating outfits of dark blue. Both of them stared at us, but Bella’s jaw actually fell open.
“What are you two doing here?” Vaperina asked, fluttering above my sister’s shoulder.
“Always good to see you, too, Vapid,” Aline responded. ‘Look at that crown your sister is wearing. It’s the gaudiest thing I’ve ever seen. I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to that circlet!’
Bella snapped her jaw shut, and her shoulders relaxed. Though Bella and I were twins, we were as different as the sun and moon. Her blonde hair bounced in long, perfect spirals, framing her bright blue eyes and button nose.
“You should leave before mother and father arrive,” Bella frowned. “If you hurry, they won’t see you. I won’t even tell them you were here. Some of us can be diplomatic about such things.”
“Do you think I would show up without an invitation?” I said to my sister, but my palms started to sweat.
‘Bella is trying to rattle you,’ Aline growled. ‘Don’t let her.’
“Where were you today?” Bella narrowed her eyes.
“I had my lessons this morning.” My heart began to race. Bella loved playing this game, forcing things out of me that I didn’t want to share.
“What did you think of Tutor Eleanor?” Bella smirked.
Sing a song in your head! Aline tried to coach me, but I’d already heard Bella’s question.
“She is overly interested in architecture. I find it frivolous.” It was better just to get it over with.
“Can you believe the size of her nose?” Bella stepped closer.
I wanted to shrink away, but I didn’t budge. “Eleanor is a wonderful teacher.”
My stomach twisted, and I sucked in a breath. No, no!
Just say the worst thing you can think of. It’ll satisfy Bella. Get this over with! Aline’s voice was forcible in my head.
“It’s like someone punched her in the face, and the swelling never went down.” I blurted the words out so quickly my tongue got twisted at the end.
Vaprina burst out laughing, and Bella joined her. Due to a magical combination of some of her Wishing gifts, her laugh felt like the comfort of a warm blanket and the thrill of a racing horse, all rolled into one. Even at her cruelest, her laughter was like a symphony.
I rubbed my side, wondering if the antechamber had always been this stuffy. Sweat beaded along my brow. Aline and Vaprina slung insults at each other, but they both silenced when the chamber door opened.
The king and queen and her Bonded faerie entered, and we curtsied. When I met my father’s gaze, I could tell he had not expected me.
“Princess Malor,” the king said, but it was more of a question.
“I brought the princess, as requested,” Aline said, looking from the king to the queen.
“It’s time to give Malor another chance.” The queen looked down at me with her pale blue eyes. “Duke LeCourant is wealthy and respected, but he’s also one of our own. If she fails, we are only with those of our own court. I dare say she may surprise you.”
My heart swelled. I’d been preparing for this since the last day I had been here.
“True,” my father stroked his graying beard. “The LeCourant family has been loyal for generations.”
I suspected that Papa was calculating the risks. With rumors of war in the far northern Obsidian Mountains, Rhone needed a strong army. None of our duchies had enough soldiers to warrant Papa marrying us to anyone within our own kingdom. This meant, dukes and royals of other kingdoms were the only alliances he needed to impress. If I performed well or did poorly, it didn’t matter; no marriage alliance was at risk. But, that wouldn’t be the case for much longer. The older we were, the more important these dinners would become. As soon as we turned sixteen, according to Rhone laws, we could be wed.
“But perhaps it would be wise to meet in a more discreet, less formal setting?” Papa at least had the decency of looking sympathetic.
Talcun, my mother’s Bonded faerie smirked at Aline, and I sensed her bristle in response.
“As you wish, my king,” I curtsied, feeling Bella boring a hole into the back of my skull.
“Father, give her a chance,” my sister spoke sweetly. “I have faith in her.”
‘Well, that’s suspicious,’ Aline said.
“Princess Bella is right, Pierre,” the queen said. “Let Malor join us. What harm could she do?”
<<>>
As I entered the room for my introduction, I slid my gaze to the side, looking at the duke’s table. As I suspected, Jae stood at the far end.
Don’t worry, it was dark in that forge. Aline assured me. The duke’s son won’t recognize you.
“Princess Malor LaMont of Rhone,” my name was announced to the room.
Some of the nobles openly gaped, and others whispered with each other after they bowed. I pasted a serene look on my face and moved to the high table.
The first and second courses went well. Nobles often came up to the table to chat with the king and queen when I was younger. Now, half the nobles stayed to speak with Bella, as well. The less eye contact I made, the less likely it was that anyone would dare approach me—and I’d made the mistake of looking up. The Duchess LeCourant caught my attention, something pleading in her gaze. But I dropped my attention back down to my plate, and resumed pushing around the food.
‘I’ll take that, if you don’t want it,’ Aline said. I hadn’t been able to stomach anything the whole night, so without waiting for a response, the roasted duck disappeared off my plate. Fairies were small, but they could out-eat a horse.
My curse was an open secret among the faeries, but outside the castle, few knew the complete truth of what had happened the night of my Wishing. The blessings of the faeries should have been the beginning of a wonderful life. Instead, it left me isolated and adrift.
Thank you for being here, Aline. She was seated behind my right shoulder on an elevated platform.
Always. She had barely said two words to me since the food arrived, but that wasn’t unusual. I envied her enjoyment.
“What do you think of the duke’s sons?” Bella whispered next to me.
“Which one?” I fiddled with my goblet.
“The elder, of course. He’s so handsome. It’s a shame he’s not inheriting a crown. Nauvergne.”
I glanced up at Jae’s older brother, Taavi. Unlike Bella and I, the LeCourant siblings actually looked related. They both had wavy brown hair, the same broad shoulders, and the same wide smiles as they spoke to each other. Jae covered his mouth to hide a shared laugh, and a pang of jealousy stung me.
“His mother is in line for the Nauvergne throne, but she’s at least twentieth in line,” I agreed with her assessment. My tutors had given me familial charts of all the important households in all the kingdoms to memorize, but I’d had extra homework when it came to our Nauvergne. They were our northern neighbor, only separated by a river.
“Truly? I had no idea she was Nauvergne royalty.”
“Distant. Very distant. Her children are even further from the crown, with all their cousins.”
“Perhaps I’ll have them all killed off.” Bella giggled. “I’d do it, if it saved me from marrying a foul, dusty relic.”
‘Curses, your sister is morbid,’ Aline said. Apparently she could take breaks from her food for insults.
“Think of it,” Vaprina cooed to Bella. “You on the Nauvergne throne and your sister will have to negotiate with you for trade agreements.”
“What a lovely thought,” Aline’s voice was laced with sarcasm.
“Malor might understand the concept of trade,” Vaprina said. “But if she can’t win a game of cards to save her life. How will she negotiate and protect her kingdom when she can’t avoid spilling the truth to everyone?”
“Hush, now,” Bella scolded in a sing-song voice. There was a quiet moment between them, and then Bella giggled and flashed me a wicked smile.
Aline cursed loudly in my head, and she shot up from her riser.
Glaring at Aline, I snapped, ‘Just leave them alone. Bella’s harassing me to upset you. It would make Vaprina’s decade if you broke fae law.’
‘Fine. I’ll be back shortly.’ Aline flew off, pretending like she’d wanted to talk to a servant the whole time.
“Bella, it must be difficult to be second born, especially when you are only minutes younger. And, with my curse, you worry I’m not fit for the crown,” I forced a calm tone. If I could elicit an honest conversation with her with compassion, there was a chance for us to work together to support our kingdom. However, one day I would rule all of Rhone, including my sister, so I couldn’t let her walk all over me, either. “But our parents and the faeries are working to end my curse. One day, I’ll be a great ruler of Rhone. I hope you will give me a chance to grow.”
Bella didn’t even give me the courtesy of a flashy fake smile. She ignored me as she ate, and I pretended my stomach wasn’t churning like butter being pounded by a kitchen maid.
Vaprina was correct—how could I be a good queen when I couldn’t lie. I couldn’t even tell tiny half-truths without feeling ill. The curse constantly tormented me. I’d had the mirrors removed from my room because I hated seeing the dark circles under my eyes and my sallow skin. Nox’s curse was on my tongue, but it affected my health, my relationships, and my ability to rule. The pains in my stomach never went away—not completely.
When dessert was served, the smells of creme brulee only turned my stomach. I fiddled with my napkin on my lap, anxious to be done with the evening. When the dessert bell rang, I was almost relieved. Almost.
‘Just make the rounds, and then we’ll get out,’ Aline reassured me. ‘Once we have this success, your father will invite you to more of these functions. With practice, you’ll continue to improve.’
I stood tall and circled around the high table, giving the nobles easy access to speak with me, as was tradition. One by one, I navigated through the conversations; I controlled the topic because I asked the questions. But still, my stomach roiled with every deceptive omission.
Soon, the Duke and Duchess LeCourant were the only nobles remaining that I hadn’t spoken with. Once they left, then I’d be free. They had an audience with my sister, and her laughter rang out like a symphony. Taavi smiled, but Jae’s frown deepened the longer Bella spoke. The duke’s sons were built like their father, and he had a reputation for being as skilled a fighter as he was with solving disputes. The duchess cupped one hand in the other, somewhat disguising the fact that the right was withered. When they finished, the duke’s family greeted me with a bow.
“It’s lovely to meet you,” the duke said. He had deep worry lines across his forehead. The duchess stood at his side, her face pinched. Neither of them had looked nearly so serious when with my sister.
“What brings you to the King’s Valley?” I couldn’t say it was a pleasure to have them visit, especially after meeting Jae. Everything about our interaction still grated me, but I tried my best to sound pleasant.
The duke hesitated, his glance darting to Bella as she moved away from me and toward our parents. The duke lowered his voice, “We have grave news to discuss with the king. As the future queen, I’d hoped you’d be invited to sit with us in our meeting after dinner.”
My lack of invitation was no surprise. But perhaps this is why my mother wanted me here tonight? Dinner was the safer option, perhaps?
“The king educates me on all areas of kingdom affairs,” I assured the duke as I glanced across the room at my parents and Bella, who stood together talking to the High Judge and several nobles.
The duchess spoke, “Have you heard about Nauvergne? Nox’s army has been attacking villages for months. It’s only a matter of time before she attacks the queen’s castle. She’s already attacked here, what’s to stop her in Nauvergne?”
My eyes widened at her mention of my Wishing—the only time Nox had ever attacked Rhone. I caught my father’s gaze.
“I hear you are honest, even when it’s hard for people to hear,” the duchess spoke quickly. “Is the king planning to align with Nauvergne?”
‘We should go. Just leave, now’, Aline’s voice pitched higher. ‘Curtsy and leave!’
My stomach rumbled. But, I could do this. I could be tactful. I could be a queen. I had to be. Across the grand dining hall, my father abruptly left the conversation with other nobles and strode toward me, leaving the queen to carry on the conversation.
“Would the king consider an alliance between Bella and a noble of Nauvergne?” the duchess pressed. Clearly she wanted information for her family who resided in Nauvergne. If she cared for them in the way that Taavi and Jae cared for each other, of course she’d want to know. However, whatever I told her would eventually travel to the ears of the Nauvergne queen.
“Possibly.” A dull pain throbbed in my stomach, and I pressed my hand to my belly. The queen of Nauvergne had several children who were all married or engaged. So the chances of my father marrying Bella, his “most treasured asset,” to a Nauvergne noble about to be embroiled in war was highly unlikely. The pain grew, but I refused to wince. Jae’s attention dropped to my hand on my stomach, and his brows furrowed, but no one else seemed to notice.
“The king always does what’s best for his kingdom and his people,” I added as my father closed the gap and stood next to me. It was true, but there was a lot of truth I’d left out of that statement and it wanted to come out.
‘Mal, you look positively green. Leave now, or have the worst night of your life.’
Poor Aline had stayed in my room on nights when I was really sick.
‘I can’t go. The king won’t allow me back . . . maybe ever. What if he decides I’m unfit to rule?’
‘Rhone law is like iron. Only the eldest can rule. Your father will not change it.’
My father was a traditionalist to the core, and everyone knew it. If I didn’t show him I could be queen, he’d have to do something drastic, possibly dangerous, to end my curse.
“King LaMont,” the duchess turned to my father with desperation in her voice. “You must send aid to Nauvergne. Nox’s power is growing. She won’t stop her invasion until she’s destroyed all seven kingdoms. Once she destroys Nauvergne, she’ll descent on Rhone next.”
“She’s always had a special dislike for Rhone,” the duke added. “I don’t know why we were so unfortunate in drawing her ire, but even in my father’s time, she was particularly hateful of our kingdom. We must stop her while Nauvergne is still strong enough to stand.”
My father was a conservative ruler. He wouldn’t send his army to the north against a horde of dragons. He’d want assurances—he’d want the other kingdoms to swear to join, to tip the scales. He’d negotiate coin from Nauvergne’s treasury, too.
I wondered if it was possible for Nauvergne to weaken Nox’s dragons. Then we could flood the field afterward, strike the final blow to Nox, and end my curse. That would mean the Nauvergne throne would be Rhone’s for the taking, and Rhone would become an empire. If I’d wondered at the possibility, surely my father was, too. I waited for the king to respond with some well placed, tactical half-truth, but he turned to me.
“What would you suggest, dear future queen?” My sister’s voice cut through my thoughts as she stepped closer to us.
I stiffened. Could I traverse a battlefield of words? Aline was silent, which made me even more nervous. I’d have to say something I knew my father would approve of, yet still stay as close to the truth as possible.
“I would send an envoy to assess the situation.” The lie cut through my gut like a hot blade.
The truth was that Nauvergne was our strongest ally. They controlled ports our people needed for goods, including food. There was no reason to let the people of Nauvergne be slaughtered, and our people go hungry when I already knew from Jae that our northern armies were ready to march. I’d dispatch those under Rosekeep immediately, to help stop the invasion before the people of Nauvergne were weakened. Worst case, the duke and duchess were exaggerating the situation, and we would pull our soldiers back to Rosekeep. Plus, I’d take any chance to thwart Nox.
Keeping such a massive lie inside felt like I had swallowed a bucket of sour milk. I wanted to clutch my father’s sleeve and cry, but I dug my fingernails into my palm instead.
“Would you align with any families associated with Nauvergne,” Bella pressed, “as a show of good faith?”
‘Curses, that child is the worst,’ Aline shouted in my mind.
My head rang, but I could still hear Bella flirting with Taavi, which insinuated her interest in the duke’s oldest son. But her actions were false. She wouldn’t settle for less than a throne. The truth fought to escape my lips, but my words would cause a rift between the LeCourants and my family, possibly even rippling up to the Nauvergne court. Furthermore, Bella would be humiliated. She’d never forgive me.
What did she have to gain by asking me such a delicate question?
“Any family of good standing who was worthy of you, I’d consider, dear sister,” I lied. Our marriages would be alliances with the strongest strategic partners. My body felt like it was inside the smithy forge. I tried to breathe. Tried to keep the truth from bubbling up. My throat burned, acid running up my throat. Aline was screaming in my head, but I couldn’t hear her over the whooshing of my own panic.
And then I vomited.
Bile and lunch and black-spotted mush.
I’d splattered my curse-mess all over the LeCourants. Before I could apologize, Aline had whisked it away, but the scent lingered. I wiped my gloved hand across my lips, but Aline had already cleaned me up, too. Someone shoved a cloth into my hand, and too many people were talking. My head rang. My stomach started to rumble again.
I stepped back. The duke was apologizing to the king. My father’s face was red, and Bella was crying. The queen put a protective arm around my sister and pulled her away. The bitter taste of bile coated my mouth, and I knew it wasn’t the last time I’d be sick tonight.
Jae looked like he wanted to approach me, a look of pity on his face. I shook my head, just slightly. The last thing I wanted was to talk to a stranger. I wanted my father to dismiss the duke’s family and console me.
Tell me he understood. It couldn’t be helped. He’d never stop trying to end Nox’s curse.
Something. Anything.
Instead he signaled to me without even looking at me. Bella and I had learned that signal when we were toddlers.
I was excused.
I slunk to my rooms, and Aline held a bucket for me all night long. I didn’t cry. She didn’t tell me what I could’ve done differently. And the next morning, I wasn’t surprised when the king sent for me.
CHAPTER 2
Vines wriggled and pushed in between the stones like greedy little troll fingers working their way in deeper and deeper until the very foundation of the castle had cracked. The surface was a crumbling facade, an echo of its former glory. I was stunned at the condition when I’d first arrived at my late grandfather’s summer castle. It was a promised escape. I’d grown to learn it was simply a place to hide a mistake.
A regret.
An abomination in the eyes of the court: me.
After three years in this derelict place, I barely registered the decay anymore. At least I could breathe here while I eagerly awaited Nox’s defeat. I’d heard the rumors about the war in Nauvergne. The king hadn’t sent his army. He hadn’t even moved quick enough to reinforce our own borders before tragedy struck.
I remembered the exact moment I found out about the attack in Rhone. It was the first time I’d visited the market. I was dressed as a commoner, inquiring after a woodcutter, when I heard the news of the attack at Rosekeep. The villager just talked about Jae’s death . . . like one would about an illicit affair, or even an unfashionable dress.
Jae was a person. Someone I knew. Someone I’d argued with. And somehow my world grew dimmer, knowing he was gone.
Nox and her horde had killed them. Just like at my Wishing, she’d done it quickly and was gone. I had only crossed paths with Jae for a moment, but his death felt like a hot poker had gone through my heart. And I didn’t intend to let it heal. I wanted the sharp remembrance of Nox’s treachery. Ending her wasn’t merely justice for me. Not anymore.
My grandfather’s summer castle was in the north, and I assumed the king would send for me to return to home, where it was safer. He hadn’t.