Chapter 11 #2
“Yes, father.” I linger just long enough to give Ophelia a soft smile.
She’s especially adorable when she’s twisted in knots, as she is now, still enough that one could believe she has roots coming from her feet. Those lavender wings behind her flap once, twice, and I force myself to look away.
Onto duller things. No matter how sweet she is, I won’t sabotage my wedding—and my kingdom. This is my one chance to bring the sun home.
No one can get in the way.
“You are not taking this betrothal seriously,” Father hisses.
On and on he goes. Will he ever quit lecturing me? I’ll be married with an heir and a spare by the time he finds another hobby worth his precious time.
He continues. “Being tardy to a meeting with your future wife’s parents is a terrible first impression. Must you continuously embarrass me? And your mother. You have hardly thought of your mother. She is left entertaining while you sleep.”
“I was not sleeping. I was reading up on curses.”
“Perhaps you should do less reading about curses and more breaking of them.”
My father seems to forget he was the one who taught me the power of the written word, though that was hundreds of years ago. He’s too far gone now, taken by fear, and I know there is no reminding him of who he was a hundred years ago.
It’s too bad. I liked him more then, when he had hope of breaking the curse.
When he had faith in my brother.
He’s never extended the same courtesy to me, and perhaps I haven’t done a thing to deserve it.
We weave through the hallways, going to the same drab garden where I last met Princess Minetta. I was already there out of obligation, but it’s nothing compared to the pressure of meeting her parents.
“I’m here,” I say. “What more will you ask from me?”
“You make it seem as though you don’t wish to be here, but you picked your betrothed. That’s more choice than I was given.”
“But, Father, it’s still no choice at all. You made me pick from a lineup, with no warning.”
I don’t need to say more for him to know what I mean. If I had a real choice, I would have preferred to find another way to break the curse. Perhaps it’s impossible. I’ve been trying for a century, and I’m no closer to freeing my kingdom than I was when I was still a babe.
When I was born, my duty was not to free our palace. It was always supposed to be Carwyn. He was older. Dutiful. Everything I was not.
If I had found a way to break the curse sooner, he would still be with us.
My father is right, even if I wish he weren’t.
“My son.” He stops before the stained glass door and fixes me with a deep frown. “If there were another choice, I would want you to make it. I recognize that my selfish actions led us to this place.”
As frustrating as my father may be, one thing I can’t stand is his groveling.
I shift from foot to foot. “I understand, Father. I didn’t mean to elicit guilt. You can trust me—I’m here, and I take this courtship seriously.”
For it is a serious matter. Perhaps if it weren’t, I could have more fun with it—and with my betrothed.
“Very well.” He pats my back. “What a relief. Come along. Let us meet the others.”
OPHELIA
“I can’t believe you did that to me!” I hold tight onto Helena’s elbow, dragging her from the prince’s bedchamber. “Surely you recognize that you crossed a line. I thought we were friends.”
There’s nothing more mortifying than being trapped with the prince, in his bedchamber—with the king just outside. I didn’t mean to open up to Helena about my feelings for him, but I did, and she immediately used them against me.
This is precisely why I don’t make friends so easily, especially in a place like this.
Perhaps the mortals are right about the fae and their cruel ways.
Helena frowns. “We are friends. This is what I do with my friends. I was only tryin’ to have some fun.”
Her confusion feels genuine, but I’m in no mood to care about the decorum—or lack thereof—between fae.
I huff and roll my shoulders. “My friends don’t treat me like that. I could have been in great trouble, you know. I’m still quite new to the palace.”
“But I didn’t know the king would arrive. Prince Emyr has always been more playful with the workers—and so kind.”
I despise that. The information only makes me softer for the man, and I don’t wish to be soft for him.
“You should have considered that the king may appear,” I say, shaking my head—a futile attempt at pushing away my feelings. This is all so silly. How can I be such a fool? “And that Prince Emyr would be in—in a state of undress.”
Her eyes widen, and she stops so firmly that I can’t continue pulling her along.
“He was not. Did you see his…” Her eyes drift down.
I shake my head. “Nothing of the sort, but he wasn’t wearing a shirt. So, I saw… that.”
As I expected when we met, Emyr isn’t particularly bulky… but the sight of his lean muscles and the bones just above his trousers—
No. Enough of that.
She sighs longingly. “The other maids would love to hear about this.”
“No.” I fix her with a serious look. “I understand if this is the sort of prank you play with your other friends, but this isn’t the type of friendship I want to have. Please. Don’t tell the others what transpired today. It’s all so mortifying.”
Her expression softens. “I understand. I hear you. You…” She squints. “You don’t enjoy trickery?”
The question itself feels like a trick. I’m a fae, and I’m supposed to enjoy such things. On occasion, I may, but not now. Not like this. Admitting that will only rouse suspicion.
“I don’t enjoy the fear of losing my employment,” I say. “There must be an end to the trickery, and that’s the boundary I’m setting.”
If there is one thing Helena understands, it’s the value of hard work.
She nods. “Noted.”
I inhale slowly. “No trickery regarding the prince. Please.”
A smile twists onto her lips. “What about a touch of meddling? I do think you would be sweet together.”
My jaw drops. “He is betrothed, Helena.”
A mischievous smile plays on her lips, and in a sing-sing voice, she says, “That did nothing to stop the way he stared at you.”
She yanks her arm free from my grasp and moves forward, looking entirely too pleased with herself.
What a wench.
I can’t believe she’s becoming my new best friend.
EMYR
It only takes a moment to realize Princess Minetta’s parents don’t think highly of me. They may even despise me. What reason do they have to hate me already? I doubt tales of my recklessness have passed over the seas that rest between our kingdoms.
The Moon Kingdom is on an island east of ours. While they are our closest ally and the nearest of the kingdoms, there’s still a great deal of distance between us. Considering how her father has been glaring at me, I believe they know more of us than they pretend to.
My reaching for more wine may not change his point of view, but his opinion holds little significance for me. As long as Minetta wishes to marry me, I’m pleased.
Cold air whips through the gardens, shaking the bare trees. Twigs fall from the sky, into neat piles on patchy grass. Their voices drone on and on, conversations that hardly pertain to me—until, finally, I am addressed.
“Tell me,” King Douglas says. The gray sun shines into his copper hair, showing the bald patches he often hides beneath a crown. “Minetta has mentioned your studies in great detail, but she never did tell us what you studied abroad.”
“I studied for many decades at the Mercury Palace.” I clear my throat. “The arcane, with an emphasis on curses.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” Queen Pearl mutters, exchanging a look with her husband.
My parents exchange a heavy look as well.
How can a palace that puts so much emphasis on psychic abilities judge my arcane studies?
There are other matters one could pursue, of course.
Some study the arts or linguistics, and others train to become fierce soldiers.
My father was a soldier himself, but I knew from a young age that was not the path for me.
He agreed.
Unlike my late brother, I have more mental than physical aptitude, and I am usually confident in it. There are exceptions. In moments like these, I feel small.
Perhaps they would prefer a warrior for their princess.
“Intellect and arcane abilities are only some of our son’s finest gifts,” my mother says.
“We look forward to hearing about the other gifts you boast,” King Douglas says. “Or preferably, seeing them.”
I shrink in my seat. How can a few comments make me feel so foolish? Heat creeps up my face, and my mouth is too dry to form a single word.
This wasn’t the plan.
Princess Minetta offers me a kind smile from across the table. “He’s also quite kind and a wonderful dancer. I’ve seen those things for myself.”
Have… have we danced?
Ah. Yes. The ball. It’s too easy to forget she was the lady I danced with all evening. She was more than a lady, I suppose—a princess. Minetta captured my attention throughout the night, and I owe her the honor of believing she can continue to be the one with whom I feel so fiercely connected.
I give her a nod, one so slight it’s barely perceptible—only for us. “One of my foundational beliefs is that we all have many untapped gifts. If there’s something you believe I am incapable of—for your daughter, for your kingdom—please trust in my eagerness to learn.”
The eagerness had been nonexistent when I came to meet them, expecting a simple breakfast. This was supposed to be a simple gathering, but now that they are making it impossible to win them over, the challenge captures my attention.
“How will you care for our daughter?” King Douglas asks. “Your palace has much to gain from this courtship—you break a curse. Fantastic. Good for you. I fail to see what we gain.”
“You gain a stronger alliance,” my father says. “The curse may have dwindled our numbers, but we have magic and soldiers at our disposal, should you need them.”
“And I have a chance at love.” Minetta smiles softly, her gaze dropping to mine. “Isn’t that enough for you, Father?”
Her father’s face turns a deep shade of red. “That… that’s just fine…”
Does he feel as sick to his stomach as I do? True love—but it can’t be true if it is forced, can it?
“When will we begin the wedding preparations?” Queen Pearl asks. “I’ve been told it’s to be a speedy courtship.”
“Yes,” my father says. “A betrothal party is already in the plans.”
“Then we are skipping the courtship entirely?” King Douglas barks out a laugh. “We’ve hardly had any say in this. Heavens. When Minetta called me over for a visit, I didn’t realize what a mess had been made.”
“We have the best planners in all seven kingdoms.” My mother lifts a brow. “I can assure you, there will be nothing messy about the event. Your input isn’t required for the events, unless you have something more to add to the conversation.”
“I—well, we—”
“You’ve already given your blessing,” Minetta says, giving her father a sharp look. For just a moment, she’s more than the soft princess she became after the ball. “I’m pleased with my choices, and I trust that the party will be brilliant.”
My betrothed continues speaking, and I stare into space, the ringing in my ears blocking out whatever they say next. I’m not a part of this at all, am I? This is happening whether or not I approve of it.
King Douglas thinks he has no say in these matters? Ha. He doesn’t know what it’s like to be me.
From this moment on, nothing I feel or say matters.
I am to be wed.