Chapter 5 #4
“Yeah, that might help,” I groused, tired of the confusion. My father was talking in circles, and I didn’t understand anything. The more he spoke, the more pissed off I got.
He lifted a glass of water to his lips with a shaky hand, the water sloshing a little, causing some to dribble down his chin. Whatever he had to say was bad. Really bad. I braced myself.
“You’ve been told about the witch, Mila, who turned the children into swans.”
“Yeah, Dad, that’s even in the damn fairy tale.”
My father rolled his eyes and grumbled something I couldn’t quite make out under his breath.
“Please don’t interrupt,” he said aloud.
I nodded, and he continued, “Mila had a daughter, and that little girl was left unharmed. After everyone killed the woman who cast the spell, they searched for the girl but could not find her. It is possible she saw what was done to her mother.”
A chill crept up my spine. I was horrified.
A daughter watching her own mother burn, regardless of the reason, was something no one should experience.
I didn’t care if this did happen almost a millennia ago.
“What else?” My voice, raspy and tight. I felt as if something was clawing at my throat, squeezing and cutting off the air.
“It was later discovered the girl had been rescued by her aunt, who became the mother-in-law to the princess.”
“This is getting confusing.” I was barely keeping up with the story.
“The little girl, Gretchen, was rescued by her aunt, Isla, who happened to be the mother of King Ewald, the man Princess Kerstin wed. Isla is the woman who stole Kerstin’s babies, the woman who tried to get her burned at the stake. All of that was revenge for what happened to her sister.”
Rubbing my forehead, I tried to stave off the headache I could feel gaining momentum.
“She was burned, too. Isla was,” I mumbled.
I’d known the story, known that once the sweaters were thrown over the princes, they were able to become human again.
All except one. His sweater had not been finished and lived the rest of his life with one arm as a wing.
That man chose to live a dangerous life, to do what he could to speed up his death.
In the end, he lived another fifteen years, surviving longer than some of his siblings.
The curse hadn’t been completely broken, though.
All of the princes could turn into a swan at will, and sometimes, the call to shift became too great, and the swan took over, forcing them to shift no matter the time or place.
One of my ancestors was labeled as a witch and hunted down while journeying through a country he was not familiar with.
“She was,” he acknowledged softly.
“And the girl?” I lifted my gaze to him, noticing shame and sorrow filling his eyes. These were not our crimes, but that did not mean we didn’t feel guilty for what happened to the innocents caught in the middle.
“Isla put her with a family.”
“How do you know this has anything to do with that?”
My father scratched his neck and pulled at the collar of his polo shirt. “The letter also came with a swan feather. It was found on the porch, just outside the door.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. The most likely scenario is that this is someone who wants to scare us into giving them money. We have it; they want it.” The threat bothered me more than a little, but that was not something I was going to admit.
“Max!” My dad growled.
“What? It’s true.” I refused to give credence to something that seemed like nothing more than a scam…
I hoped. If this had anything to do with the past, it meant someone was holding a grudge over centuries.
This was bigger and more deeply rooted than the paltry Hatfield’s and McCoy’s feud, ours had had over a thousand years to build steam.
Our enemies were prepared to punish and hurt those who had nothing to do with the past. Did we really have to pay for the perceived crimes of our ancestors?
What about their punishment? I was willing to wave it.
Was it not bad enough that I lived with the curse my family had been saddled with?
“You need to be careful,” he insisted through clenched teeth.
Rolling my eyes, I shook my head. “Fine. I will, but I’m certain this is nothing.” I had to blow it off because if I didn’t, I would drive myself crazy. This was my life, and I refused to live terrified of tomorrow.
His fingers dug into his hair and pulled, messing up his typically neat appearance. “I don’t want to see anything happen to you.”
I swallowed any further argument. I could see the worry and fear on his face, the dark circles under his eyes. “When did you get this?” I held the letter up.
“Two days ago. I tried to find out where it came from, but there are no fingerprints and no way to trace it.” His hands cupped the back of his head. “I tried.”
“Nothing is going to happen. I’ll be fine and take extra precautions. I’m not sure what this letter is about, but I can promise that nothing will happen to me.” Mentally, I crossed my fingers.