Chapter 14
“The elixir is ready.”
I looked up from my desk, my head throbbing from trying—and failing—to come up with a solution to the riots breaking out in the lower towns. I was attempting to write a missive to my general with instructions on how to quell the unrest.
My people were suffering. The deadly shadows were drawing closer, and I had no way to protect them. I couldn’t blame them for panicking.
Tislora stood at my open door, arms folded across her chest. “I used all the human’s blood. You’ll need to get more.”
“Why can’t you get it?” I growled, running a hand through my dark curls.
“If you’re going to be cantankerous, you can make your own damn elixir,” she said.
I groaned, sitting back in my seat. The chair creaked loudly as I massaged my temples. “I apologize. This is my problem. Not yours.”
“Varius.”
I gave her a weary look. Her silver orb-like eyes seemed to peer into my soul.
“You have to tell her,” she said. “It’s the only way.”
“I can’t lie, Lor. I’m not exactly ready to tell her that this curse will kill her. If I start to tell her the truth, she will ask questions. This one is… curious. Too curious.”
Tislora leaned against the doorframe, her lips forming a thin line. “You knew this wouldn’t be easy. And she is only one human . The fate of your kingdom is at stake.”
“I know ,” I snapped. “You think I don’t know that?”
“I think that bleeding heart of yours is going to get you into trouble. Who gives a shit if the human has a comfortable life or not? She was born to be a pawn in this game those human royals play. She doesn’t matter. But your people do.”
I clenched my teeth to refrain from snapping at her again. I knew all this. Truly, I did.
But I also knew that the elixir would be the most powerful if I allowed the bond between Sybelle and myself to strengthen first. It had only been one day since the wedding ceremony. I didn’t think that was enough time to make a strong enough connection between our blood.
A darker part of my mind registered that consummation was the surest way to solidify a blood bond between husband and wife.
Tislora was right. My people were more important than one mortal woman’s discomfort.
If I had to bed her, I would.
If I had to bleed her dry, I would.
But that didn’t mean I wouldn’t look for every alternative before resorting to those measures.
“Leave the elixir on my desk,” I said, my voice tired. When Tislora didn’t move, I added, “Please.”
She strode into my room, her cloak swishing with each lithe movement, before placing the tiny vial atop my oak desk. “You cannot fix every problem, Varius,” she whispered. “That’s not on you. Your ancestors couldn’t break this curse, either.”
“That doesn’t mean I have accepted my fate,” I said through gritted teeth .
When Tislora continued to stand there, watching me, I said, “I will figure something out. I promise.”
“Very well.” She turned to leave, then paused at the threshold to face me once more. “I have spells available, if you need them. Spells to help make humans more… compliant.”
Icy horror chilled me to the bone at her implication, and I fixed a hard stare on her. Not a hint of remorse marred her expression. She only blinked at me with cool apathy.
My nostrils flared, and I bared my teeth at her. She smirked, understanding my refusal of her offer, before turning and leaving, the clicking of her boots echoing down the hall.
Long after she retreated, I took the small vial in my hands, turning it over. The mixture was inky black, even darker than my blood. And it was made with the last few drops of Sybelle’s blood.
After this, I would either need to extract her blood by force…
or coerce her into giving it willingly. The former was how my predecessors would have done it, out of desperation and impatience.
But the latter was the safest way to gain her trust and, hopefully, steer her in the direction of breaking the curse for me.
But time was not on my side. Even if I did gain her trust, there was no guarantee she would fulfill all the steps required to break this curse.
Which was the better choice—to prolong the inevitable and grant my people a bit more time, while torturing a human in the process… or to allow my people to keep suffering while I attempted to woo the human?
With a growl, I uncorked the vial and downed the contents, smacking my lips at the foul, bitter taste.
I shuddered, and my wings twitched as the elixir swept through me.
My blood boiled, and I groaned, slumping over on the desk.
It was an echo of the torment I endured in that cave, but it was better than having to go through it all again .
This tiny vial of liquid granted me another full moon of freedom. But after that, I was doomed. There was nothing left to save me.
Except Sybelle.
I thought of Clermont’s words: This is what’s done.
My father would have done what was necessary.
My clawed fingers curled into fists atop my desk.
Rage arose within me, thick and volatile, as I thought of that murderous bastard.
He had crossed every line in his desperate attempts to free himself from the curse.
From the moment I had witnessed him choking the life out of one of his concubines, I vowed to never be like him.
Was this a sign? If my father would have taken blood from the human by force, was it my fate to do the opposite?
Or was I destined to follow in his footsteps no matter what?
I rose to my feet, my chair groaning against the stone floor as I made my way to the door. It still stood ajar after Tislora’s visit. Frowning, I swung the door shut and waited for the magic to take effect. Then, I said softly, “Show me what you want from me.”
I opened the door and found myself facing… the kitchens. Servants and staff bustled about, and the smell of spiced vegetables reached my nose.
My brow furrowed. What was this? Was the castle mocking me? It wouldn’t have been the first time. The sentient place seemed to have a mischievous sense of humor.
I closed the door, then reopened it. The same scene awaited me. A servant carrying a tray of buttered bread paused to stare, wide-eyed, at me, his face paling.
“Damn it all,” I muttered before striding into the kitchens.
The entire space fell silent at my entrance. Fae went completely still, eyes fixed on me in shock and fear.
I waved a hand. “Go about your business. I’m just… observing. ”
After a moment, a few fae started moving again, and the bustling resumed.
I lingered against the wall, arms crossed as I surveyed the spacious kitchen.
The chef was barking orders at his attendants.
To the left, steam rose from a fresh pot of stew.
The pounding of a blade against a chopping board rang out in the room.
What is it you want me to see? I wondered. Why am I here?
Most fae, my father included, discounted the enchanted castle as a side effect of the curse. But I knew it to be more than that. This place was the heart of the sorceress’s spell. It held more secrets and answers than any of us.
And it was more stubborn than any creature I had ever met.
A loud crash sounded from the next room over, and I straightened, tensing with apprehension. A flurry of motion followed as servants rushed toward the source of the commotion. Loud voices rang out, followed by one I immediately recognized.
“I’m so terribly sorry!” Sybelle said. “Please, let me help you clean this up.”
In Agnarrish, a servant said hastily, “No, no, don’t trouble yourself, my lady. Please return to your rooms. We will send someone to see to your needs.”
I suppressed a groan. What the hell was she doing in the kitchens, of all places?
“I just need…” Sybelle broke off with a noise of frustration. Curious, I edged closer to the next room, careful not to reveal my presence. From the corridor that led to the dining hall, I remained in the shadows as I peered around the corner.
Sybelle was in the medicine room, surrounded by broken glass, as servants scrambled around her trying to clean up her mess.
Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were wide with panic.
Her wavy chestnut hair hung loose and frayed around her, and she wore a simple blue dress that was stained with various potion ingredients .
My scowl deepened. What was she doing poking around our medicine room?
Then, she said something that made me freeze.
“ Gerra modi . Do you have any? I need gerra modi .”
The servants around her stilled as well, recognition dawning on their faces. One of them nodded and started shuffling through the mess of jars.
She was asking for birch root, which was a medicinal herb for the fae beasts who had cracked talons or split claws. It helped numb the area so the healer could mend the creature. It was the only thing strong enough to affect the toughened flesh of unseelie beasts.
Why did this weak, fragile human need such a thing?
And how did she know the word for it in my language?
Suspicion crept through me, and I silently thanked the castle for leading me here. Perhaps there were more secrets to my human bride than I originally thought.
I remained hidden in the corridor as Sybelle clumsily helped the servants clean up. When a kitchen maid appeared with a jar of birch root, Sybelle accepted it and murmured, “ Garsha. ”
Thank you.
Now that I was focused on it, I realized her accent and pronunciation were flawless. She uttered the word like a native.
The staff began ushering her from the room, eager to have her removed from the kitchens.
Sybelle stumbled over more apologies and thanks as she hurried from the room.
I followed her down the corridor, keeping a safe distance as she made her way up the spiral staircase that led to the ground level of the castle.