Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The castle was eerily silent, save for the soft echo of their footsteps against the cold stone floor. Shadows stretched long in the dim torchlight, flickering as Mal followed behind Phillip through the winding halls. In the forests, Phillip always followed her. She was on his turf now.
The air was damp with the scent of old stone and the faint musk of smoldering candles.
Every creak of the floorboards, every distant rustle made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.
Phillip’s castle had always felt foreign to her, a place where she never truly belonged.
And now she was sneaking through it with the man who would be king.
They ducked into the shadow of a pillar, pressing against jagged stone as a guard’s footsteps echoed closer. Phillip’s body was tense beside her, his sharp eyes fixed on the passing figure. They waited, barely breathing, until the guard’s steps grew fainter and fainter and then he was out of sight.
“Do you ever get tired of keeping me a secret?”
Phillip blinked, clearly caught off guard by the question. His brow furrowed in confusion.
“I mean, here we are, sneaking around your castle. Again. It feels like I’ve always been this—this secret. Hidden away in the shadows while you played proper princeling with the pretty princess.”
Another set of footsteps sounded from the opposite end of the hall. Phillip’s eyes flicked toward the approaching guard, then back to her. He motioned for her to be silent, to wait. Mal had had enough of waiting.
With a flick of her wrist, Mal sent her magic coursing through the air like invisible tendrils.
The guard's breath hitched as a shimmering haze of pollen and spores encircled his head, glimmering faintly in the light.
His eyes reddened and began to water. His face contorted with sudden sneezes and gasps.
The allergic reaction overwhelmed him in seconds.
He stumbled backward, clutching his throat as his strength gave out, and then crumpled to the ground, incapacitated, his ragged breaths coming in shallow gasps. Then silence as he slipped into sleep.
Mal lowered her hand and turned back to Phillip. "You were saying?"
Looking down at the guard, Phillip pressed his lips together.
His brows rose as though to say What else would I have expected?
"As soon as we figure out what happened to us, as soon as we know why we were kept apart, I’ll make sure everyone who didn't witness me following behind you like a puppy as a child, who was unaware of my infatuation with you as a young boy, everyone who didn't recognize my complete obsession with you as a grown man, knows that I have some warm feelings toward you. I’ll shout it from the battlements. I’ll have it written in the stars if it'll make you happy. "
Phillip's words poured over her like sunlight breaking through the tallest tree canopy. His voice was steady and deep, carrying the weight of a love that refused to bend or falter.
Mal held herself tall, her hands clasped behind her back, her face a mask of calm indifference.
She willed her body to stay still, her sharp black horns crowning her head like a queen's defiant tiara.
Inside, her heart betrayed her. It hammered against her ribcage with a ferocity that mocked her composure, each beat louder than the last.
“You are the only woman I have ever loved, the only woman I’ll ever sit next to on that throne. But something—”
"Someone."
" — kept us apart for three years. I need to understand how and why. I won’t let you be put in danger again.”
There was a rawness in his voice that made her chest tighten as her heart slammed against her ribcage. Mal swallowed, her anger dissipating like fog under the sun. "Fine."
"Fine?"
She nodded.
“So can we proceed to solve this mystery now?”
“Yes.”
"Excellent."
Phillip reached for her hand. Mal took his offering, denying to herself that it felt like surrender. Phillip's fingers wrapped around hers as they climbed the tower's long and winding stairs. Mal's fingers curled tightly around his, holding on as though letting go would shatter her completely.
"What finally made you believe Aurora was lying?"
"She came to my bedroom."
"That's the first time?" Mal tried to keep the accusation out of her tone. She believed Phillip when he told her he was devoted to her.
"No, she's come by a lot in the past, but she rarely knocks."
Mal managed to keep a relaxed grip on Phillip's hand. Stone crumbled beneath the fingertips where the other hand touched the wall.
"It's the first time she's ever tried to get in my bed, though."
Neither Mal nor her magic had time to react to that statement. They'd reached the door to the tower. The pulse of dark magic oozing from the cracks around the door frame made Mal recoil. The door creaked open without either of them touching it, inviting them—daring them—to come inside.
The air inside the tower was thick with enchantments, making Mal’s skin prickle as she stepped through the arched doorway.
Dust motes drifted lazily in the filtered light that streamed through a single narrow window.
The room felt alive—bristling with the latent power of objects left to languish here.
A cracked mirror sat leaning against the wall. Its surface shimmered unnaturally, as though it were aware of their presence. The reflection within seemed to ripple, distorted by something unseen, as though it waited for someone brave—or foolish—enough to look into its glass.
On a small wooden table, a bright red cape was folded neatly, though claw marks showed that the fabric was shredded on one side.
An apple, as red and glossy as freshly spilled blood, rested on a shelf, the air around it humming with dark energy.
A single bite had been taken out of it. But around the white flesh, there were no brown marks of decay.
A pair of glass slippers, so delicate they looked like they would shatter with a touch, gleamed eerily from a corner. The root of each shoe bore streaks of blood at the tips where a woman's toes would have been forced to fit.
On a dresser by the far wall, a conch shell sat, its surface iridescent.
The shell pulsed faintly, like it was alive.
Mal's eyes lingered on it for a moment, her magic brushing against its aura.
It carried whispers of the sea that filled her ears with faint echoes.
There was a power within it slumbering, waiting to be awakened.
Phillip had pointed out the tower when they were children. They hadn't dared venture up the steps, not with all the dark magic inside. Phillip's father had been trying to rid the land of curses after the Fairy Godmothers had abandoned Evermore.
A cursed spindle gleamed malevolently on a pedestal. Its sharp tip caught the light like a tooth waiting to bite. In the quiet, Mal swore she heard it whisper to her. In her mind's eye, a vision flashed of that needle coming toward her.
But that was impossible. She'd never once set foot in this room.
Beside her, Phillip stepped forward, his gaze locked on the spindle. His hand lifted toward it, as though something unseen called to him, drawing him closer.
“Phillip, wait.” Mal grabbed his wrist, her magic crackling between them. The pulse of her power hummed in the air, wrapping around them like a protective veil.
Phillip blinked, the trance breaking. “It feels like... it’s calling me."
More and more, this scene felt like a memory. Except they hadn't been in this room. They'd been… in Aurora's rooms.
Aurora had invited them both. She wanted to show them her wedding dress. It was soon after the mantle of Guardianship had passed to Mal. Soon after, Phillip had lost his father and would take the crown. He had been expected to marry soon. Expected to marry her—Aurora.
Mal had been seething. Phillip had been calm. He'd said they would explain to Aurora how things were, that he loved Mal and couldn't marry Aurora.
The next thing Mal remembered was waking up.
"She did this," Phillip said. "She did this to us."
Mal wanted to praise the roots that he finally got it. That they were finally on the same page. But they were no longer alone in the tower.
"Looks like the two of you are awake."
Aurora stood in the doorway framed by the sunlight, her golden hair glinting like a crown, her expression sharp and dangerous.
Beside her stood an equally stunning redhead in a dress of soft sea-green.
In her hands, she held a conch shell like the one on the dresser.
Its surface gleamed as though freshly plucked from the ocean's depths.
"Can you believe that all that nonsense about True Love's kiss was real, Ari?"
The redhead shook her head, her long hair moving over her shoulders like octopus tendrils.
"This time, I'll make sure you stay asleep. Permanently."
Aurora turned to Ari, who lifted the shell to her red-glossed mouth and blew. Water erupted from the conch in a massive surge, rushing forward with an unstoppable force. The tower trembled under the weight of the blast.
Phillip lunged, shoving Mal aside with the force of his body. It was of no use. The waters came for them both.
The wall of water slammed into them, icy and unrelenting. It tore through the space, sweeping her and Phillip off their feet.
The water enveloped her, cold and brutal, stealing the breath from her lungs. She reached for Phillip, but the force was too great. The tower walls blurred into chaos as the wave blasted them out of the window.
They fell together, the roaring water cascading around them like a shroud. Mal’s heart was a panicked drumbeat in her chest as they plummeted. Her hand brushed against Phillip’s. Their fingers locked.
Mal sent out her magic. It surged, desperate to protect them. But the fall was relentless.
The world spun as they hurtled toward the forest below. The last glimpse of the tower window faded into the distance. Aurora’s mocking laughter and Ariel’s sinister smile lingered in Mal’s mind.
And then Phillip's arms were around her. Her forever fortress against anything that dared cause her harm. The safe space she could let down her defenses and rest in. Except now, there was nothing below them except the ground coming fast as they fell from the tower.