Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
OPHELIA
“Up!” A shrill voice shouts.
Someone tears the blanket from my body.
Heavens, it’s far too early for this.
I sit up, blinking in the sunlight. Last night was a dream, and my spirit remains there, floating with the prince. It hardly makes sense to be in my dull, undecorated bedchamber. Lady Ashbridge’s nostrils flaring like a bull is an equally jarring sight.
What does she have to be upset about this early? I can’t pretend to care. Somewhere, deep in my bones, I’m still dancing with a handsome prince—a prince! The man who showed me magic, who held my hand in his, who spun me around the garden…
How can I return to my ordinary life?
“What is it?” I mumble, swinging my legs over the bed. I smooth out my nightgown as I stand, rubbing my eye with one fist.
“I’m sure you already know.” Her nose curls. “Fix your glamour, lest the whole world witnesses you like this.”
I glance at the looking glass above my dresser drawer.
She’s right. I am shimmering and glistening in the morning light.
Silver glitter falls at my feet and collects on my lashes like morning dew clings to the grass.
My soft, transparent wings wrap around me as if they’re protecting me, and under the cutting stare of my stepmother, it’s the only thing that brings me comfort.
My stepsisters stand in the doorway. Elisa’s eyes are wide with terror, and Raia looks… apologetic.
Guilty.
Oh no.
“How could you?” Lady Ashbridge stands close enough that I can see every pore on her button nose. “I told you not to let them leave the house, yet you did.”
“I don’t know what you’re—”
“Liar.” She storms off. “I was gone for one night, and the fae nearly took my daughters.”
“Mama, that is not—” Elisa starts.
“Why aren’t you following?” Lady Ashbridge barks.
She must be speaking to me. Even when her daughters misbehave, I’m the only one she talks to in this manner.
All three of us scramble after Lady Ashbridge.
“Raia didn’t mean to,” Elisa says.
“I know,” I whisper.
But I can’t bring myself to look at my other stepsister. She may not have meant it, but I’m once again in trouble for her choices—as if I have any control over what they do. My stepsisters can do what they please, regardless of what their tyrannical mother may think. They are not so innocent.
We stand in the center of the main room, and Lady Ashbridge circles us.
“What were you thinking?” she spits. “You could have been killed.”
I press my lips together.
“What if the prince chose one of you? You could have been taken to their castle, never to be seen again! You would never see each other again.”
“Would that have been so terrible?” The words fall from my lips without permission. “Being whisked away by a handsome prince? Anywhere must be better than here.”
Lady Ashbridge settles her cruel, cold stare on me, and I may melt in the spot—anything to get away from her. My stepsisters hold their breath beside me. I’m doing them a favor—one they don’t deserve.
My words may just be enough to take the attention away from them.
“How can you say such a thing?” Lady Ashbridge shouts. “I have cared for you for years—since before that, when your father was still living. What would he say if he could see you now?”
My father. He’s the one thing we share—a bridge between us—but now it feels like another wall. How could she use him against me?
My chin trembles, and to my embarrassment, my voice does as well. “I don’t think he would have a strong opinion either way.”
Her eyes narrow. “Something about you has changed. What is it?”
I tilt my quivering chin higher. “Changing is the natural progression of living as a mortal, Madam. You must be more specific.”
“But you are not a mortal, are you?”
My stomach plummets, and my gaze remains level, even though I long to cower and run in the opposite direction. “You already know the answer to that. Why must you ask me such silly questions?”
“Tell me…” She leans in closer, and her hot breath makes me wince. “Were my daughters the only ones to attend the ball? You know you cannot lie to me.”
Another fae rumor, though it’s never been true for me, and I don’t know if it is for the others.
I could lie. It would not be the first lie nor the first time I got away with it. I no longer want to run, lie, or hide, and perhaps something about me has changed. In the sunny sitting room, with my feet pressed to cool wood, I feel like a different person.
“No,” I murmur. “I was there as well.”
Raia and Elisa gasp in unison.
“I knew it,” Elisa says. “You looked… well, not just like her, but quite close. Ophelia, you were positively lovely! I wanted to admire your gown, but you ran off before we could speak.”
The compliment does little to put me at ease.
“Who?” Lady Ashbridge asks in a demanding tone. “She looks like who?”
“The one who captured the prince’s heart,” Raia murmurs. “They danced all evening.”
I finally glare at Raia, my patience worn into nothingness. “For once in your life, hold your tongue.”
“No.” Lady Ashbridge laughs—an evil cackle, unlike anything I’ve heard. “It is about time the truth comes out. Now, I can finally do what I must.”
“And what is that, Mother?” Elisa asks wearily. “Tell us our punishment. You can’t keep us waiting. It’s torture.”
“Quiet.” Lady Ashbridge’s shoulders heave as she inhales, and they shake on exhalation.
“You.” Her beady eyes settle onto me. “I have allowed you to stay in my home due to my affection for your father. I know it is what he wanted, but… I believe he did not see how evil you are. He always had a soft spot for the fae. Otherwise, you would not exist.”
I swallow thickly. “Madam, I’m sorry—”
“No.” She turns to me smoothly. “You are to leave at once. I will no longer risk you corrupting my daughters. They were fine young ladies before they had the misfortune of living with you.”
“They’re still lovely. Why must you be so cruel? Not only to me, but to your daughters.”
“Silence! You have no say in how I speak to them.” She turns her back once more. “Pack your things. I expect you to be gone by teatime.”
EMYR
How am I supposed to eat breakfast when my head is pounding?
The Moon Fae left. She abandoned me in the garden, and I drank myself into a stupor.
The rest of the night twisted and blurred into nothing.
Such nights usually mean I had a pleasant time, but that is not true now.
I would have had more fun if she had stayed, even if I hadn’t drunk a drop of liquor.
I slump in my seat and bite into a fluffy, yellow pastry. The sweet bread and cheese do little to soothe the illness from drinking, or the strange hole in the center of my chest.
“Why are you so glum?” my father asks. “It seems you finally found someone worthy of your attention.”
“That is true. We have never seen you so smitten.” My mother smiles knowingly—but she knows nothing.
Without meaning to, my parents rub salt in the wound.
“Because she was not so smitten with me.” I glower. “She disappeared, as Moon Fae so often do.” A part of the illusory nature of the moon, I imagine. I’ll need to conduct further research. “Perhaps I should not set my sights on one again.”
They exchange a look.
“Perhaps not,” Mother says. “We cannot continue delaying the wedding.”
“Understood,” I mumble.
They lean close and whisper, likely plotting against me. I no longer care. We finish breakfast in silence.
Before I can leave the table, as I intend to, my father speaks. “You must make your decision. We received word from the palace last night.”
I sit upright. “I take it the news was not good?”
“A group of corrupt beast fae attacked yet another group of younglings.” My mother shudders. “All dead. The curse is worsening, and our land will not last. We will fade into oblivion.”
It will be my fault—or else, it’ll be the fault of my fickle heart, which feels as if it is not attached to me at all.
Fae procreation is no easy task. Most fae will have just one child in their long life—perhaps two, if they are lucky. Before the curse, this was favorable due to our long lifespans. Now, hordes of Sun Fae are dying and disappearing.
It’s my fault. Even if it’s not, I must do something about it. I’m the only one who can break the curse. If I can’t do it out of affection for another being, surely I can do it from the love of my people.
I rub my aching chest.
“You must choose a mate,” my mother says. “It is the only way. We have gathered the most eligible from the recent balls—”
“Mother!” My eyes fling open. “You jest. That’s horrendous. All my potential suitors in one room. Can you imagine?”
My father’s gaze settles on me, apologetic and affectionate, but all I can feel for him is pure hatred. “It is what must be done. We can waste no more time.”
He’s given me the responsibility of freeing our land from this curse, but he is the reason for it. Why must I suffer for his horrendous decisions? Why must a choice he made so long ago haunt me?
If only he could have been an honest man. If only he could have chosen love—if it truly existed between them. If it truly exists at all.
“Fine.” I push my plate away, no longer having an appetite. “I will choose. Bring me to my suitors.”
Pressure pushes me into the marble floor with each step. I sink, deeper and deeper.
My parents lead me to a room full of suitors: fae, mortals, witches, and an attractive orc man. I vaguely remember him from another ball. We drank whiskey and slipped away, and I’ve already been on my knees for him.
At least I know the chemistry is there, and he’s more memorable than the rest. Perhaps he should be my choice.
No. No. I cannot let my cock choose my suitor—I must use my mind. I must pick someone I can fall in love with, with whom I can break the curse.
The problem is that while my parents claim I connected with these people at the balls, I cannot remember most of them. All I can remember is the Moon Fae from the evening before—sparkling violet eyes, and wings, and—