Chapter 32 #2
Across the hall, Lempicka laughed softly, while that damned prince smiled at her with the same idiotic fascination of all men.
When she caught my eye, she waved. Zelda moved instantly, jerking upright, slipping between us like a wall, blocking my view with her swollen head.
She who had always preached that power belonged to those who never let emotion crack their mask.
Yet there she stood—eyes wide and narrowed at once, stray strands escaping from her once-impeccable chignon.
“You were nothing,” she spat. “I was the only one who could understand you. If you deny me, I will take everything from you.”
I inhaled, feigning thought. I pulled away from the banquet, stepped closer, and towered over her. “There is nothing left to take.”
A slow, cruel smile tugged at my lips. I relished the tightening of her throat. The nervous tic of her jaw as she tried to cage her rage.
“If you oppose me, we both lose—do not forget,” she whispered, her tone silken, venomous.
“Only I can save you, Arawn. I have your heart. I know how to return it. Come back to me, and all will be forgiven.” She extended her hand toward me.
“Together, we will be invincible. You may even keep the confectioner if you wish.”
Once, I believed only in vengeance. I saw only evil. I wanted to stop feeling the pain. To be the most powerful sorcerer, yet powerless against my own heart.
But Lempicka had burned it all to ash.
She had shown me there was still good. That there always had been.
So yes, I would remain the monster of their tales. I would wear that role that clung to me like a second skin without hesitation.
Zelda’s patience frayed. Her smile cracked, her fingers twitched.
“I saved you, Arawn,” she hissed between her teeth. “Do not forget.”
I leaned close enough to see the fissures beneath the mask of powder on her face.
“No, Zelda,” I drawled. “All I desire… is your death. You reduce everything around you to pawns. You use them, break them, discard them, all to fill the void inside you. Always craving more, until you lose control, until you lose the faith of the people piece by piece.” I tilted my head. “Look at yourself.”
A spasm seized her, her eyelid twitching like it might burst.
“You are old.”
Her nostrils flared.
“You are exhausted.”
A vein throbbed at her temple.
“Weak.”
The scream she unleashed was no longer human. A howl of raw, unbridled rage. The stained glass windows shattered, raining shards like knives. The walls shook with the force of her magic, a storm of ash sweeping the hall, toppling chandeliers.
I had no time to breathe before the impact struck me. Pain ripped through my chest, as if my blood burst inside me, as if molten needles pierced the cage of my heart.
The guests, well accustomed to Zelda’s tantrums, sheltered beneath enchanted parasols, continuing their merriment.
The prince, for once not entirely useless, threw himself before Lempicka as a shield, hiding under an overturned table.
Others were impaled by glass, but the guards cleared their corpses before they could even stain the marble.
I staggered forward, claws sinking into the table to keep myself from collapsing under Zelda’s crushing grip.
Yes. She was biting the bait exactly as I had planned.
She no longer brought me to my knees. Not as before. My heart had found a way to resist her, to repel the voices clawing for it as though someone had built a shield around it.
Someone.
Of course. Someone.
“Your heart is mine,” Zelda hissed, her voice trembling with fury. “If you will not be my son, then you will be my weapon. Insult me again, and I will—”
I laughed. Zelda faltered. She was the one out of breath now. I straightened, wiping the corner of my lips, smearing the blackened blood away.
“Oh, Zelda… You tortured me for centuries. This? This is nothing.”
Her magic did not weaken. On the contrary, it swelled beyond her control. A beast she herself had fed.
The bell rang. The crimson curtains open, and the setting sun flooded the marble with golden light.
The harvest was about to begin, and not even Zelda could halt the magic of the golden apples.
Servants wound through the crowd, offering wicker baskets.
The prince seized one, then offered his arm to Lempicka, leading her among the first guests toward the terrace.
In the dimness, I swallowed hard. Zelda shuddered, her breath rasping out in a wheeze, as though speaking a single word cost her a part of herself.
“You cannot even hide it,” she muttered, her face locked in disgust. “You have fallen for her.”
I exhaled, adjusting my glove with idle precision as I watched Lempicka vanish into the sunset. Light and shadow were never meant to meet.
“Is it so obvious? Yet, when I lied to her, she believed me so easily.”
“You cannot love,” Zelda growled, as though the words were a knife driven beneath her ribs. “We cannot love!”
“Do not tell me what I cannot do.”
I offered her my arm, chin lifted. I towered over her, but in the treachery of that gesture, in that invitation both elegant and humiliating, I forced her to remember what she had made of me.
Her perfect executioner. The one who would execute her.
“Now, come watch the harvest. You can barely stand after spending your magic,” I said, my smile razor-sharp. “But do not worry… I will free you soon.”
She clutched at my arm, squeezing her gown with her one good hand. “Too confident, aren’t you? Once I recover, I’ll take her from you, Arawn. I never liked sharing.”
“That is the difference between us.”
I guided her to the terrace, where the orchard stretched out. Most of the trees were bare, their black branches twisted like dead bones.
Except one.
At the center, a single tree stood, its thick roots anchored deep, its gnarled limbs heavy with golden apples. It clutched them possessively, its branches curling like claws, refusing to yield them to anyone. Guests leaped, reached, even tried to climb—but the tree resisted.
“Like you, I am possessive. Detestable. I would eliminate without hesitation anyone who dared touch what is mine,” I continued.
My gaze drifted to Lempicka. She approached the tree, but unlike the others, she did not take.
She asked. A whisper barely audible, a silent prayer.
Her fingers rose and waited. A pause, a hush, and then the yellow petals trembled.
The tree shivered. A light rain of golden leaves scattered around her.
“But unlike you, Zelda… I am willing to set aside my selfishness for the happiness of the one who holds my hearts.” I caught between my fingers a golden petal that had landed on my shoulder, then raised my eyes to the witch. “And it was never you.”
Zelda’s teeth ground together.
“Zelda! Will you not join the harvest?” the prince called.
She spun abruptly, her smile stretching too quickly, too sharply, like a jester regretting the stage. I raised my hand, twisting my fingers toward her in a lazy, mocking salute. She pressed her lips tight, then, grudgingly, turned on her heels toward her guests.
But no one looked at her.
Every gaze was fixed on the tree. One of its branches lowered, brushing against my Sugarplum’s waiting hand. Its tendrils uncurled, releasing the first golden apple of winter.
Lempicka plucked it.
The sun slipped beyond the horizon, bathing her skin one last time in liquid gold. Suddenly, sugar shards rose, swirling like fireflies before dissolving into glittering rain. The curse unraveled, thread by thread, melting like frost.
Sugar gave way to flesh, and Lempicka was human again.
“The curse is broken,” I whispered, letting the golden petal fall from my fingers. “You can be proud of her, Nyla.”
One single apple tree had bloomed in this kingdom.
On the very spot where I had buried a heart years ago.
A short, low laugh escaped me. I would never again doubt the power of a heart.
Taking advantage of the distraction, I slipped back into the shadows. I turned away, vanishing into the corridors of the castle. I had felt it. The very place where the pain was rooted, where Zelda had clenched my heart in one of her fits of rage. The beats called to me.
I tore off my gloves, letting them fall upon the marble, and descended into the deepest dungeon of the castle, where Cursed after Cursed drew from me to become monsters.
My heart awaited me.
And this time, it beat for someone.