Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
OPHELIA
For once, Emyr and I meet on purpose. I’m no longer running to the library for silence, but instead… I am running to him. I sit by his side as he scours through piles of books, his eyes racing down each page. It’s a wonder he’s absorbing the information so swiftly.
It’s still quiet in here, even though a few other fae float around the space—including the tall, strict librarian. Emyr and I huddle in the back, sitting at a dark oak table with towers of books between us.
My friendship with Emyr is quite different from my friendship with Helena. Where she and I usually chat about palace happenings or practice our magic for fun, Emyr and I have a common purpose now. We’re doing the impossible—we’re going against the prophecy and breaking a curse on our own.
If I can do away with this curse, perhaps I’ll no longer have to hide who I am. Perhaps I can visit home and see my stepsisters again. I can be a halfling in peace.
“I have to say…” I turn back to my book and force my attention to remain on the worn pages. “This may be the longest you’ve been quiet.”
‘This”—he taps the page—“is a new book. I must focus.”
“Then why did you request my company?”
“Because two sets of eyes are better than one, and I enjoy your presence.”
We haven’t discussed what happened at the lake—or more specifically, what happened after—but I can’t shake the vision.
Emyr, always so full of mirth, was crying on his knees.
It’s not the first time I have seen him cry, and I have a feeling it won’t be the last, but the look of terror in his eye… that was unusual.
Thinking of his bloodshot eyes sends bumps across my skin.
“Well, I don’t think there is anything in this book about curses.” I shut the book and let my fingers wander over the lettering on the cover.
Moon magic…
This book is written for a fae like me, but it’s useless in addressing the problems we face. I may take it back to my room and read it for leisure, but my time with Emyr must be well spent. He is a busy man.
I won’t think about what—or who—keeps him so busy.
“I didn’t pick this book for you for that purpose.” He finally peels himself away from the book’s dense pages, angling to look at me. “That’s what I am reading up on, but I want you to learn to use your magic. I believe it will aid our common purpose.”
Emyr cannot understand how unappealing my magic is. There’s no light and beauty to it. It’s only feelings. Useless feelings.
I frown, my brows scrunching together. “I’ve been trying.”
“Yes, but learning before you try may help.” He gives me a gentle smile. “You underestimate yourself, but Moon Fae—while they harness a different sort of magic—are powerful magicians as well.”
I press my lips together. “Perhaps you’re right.”
There’s something about the event at the lake that I’ve not told him, and I worry about what it may mean for me. For the part I’ll play in it all, and the prophecy I haven’t dared ask him about.
“By the lake,” I say. “The curse… I could feel it through my magic.”
The thought alone makes my stomach flip. I hold onto the table’s edge, worried I will be sick.
“I had a sense that you did.” He frowns. “If that was too much for you, we don’t have to utilize the gift, but when I say Moon Fae are strong, I mean it. You can do more than feel. You can change… transform… manipulate. And, if you can feel the curse, then perhaps you can be the one to change it.”
How could he believe that? He’s spent so long attempting to break the curse, as have the others in his kingdom.
“What could I? I’m but one weak half-fae. There’s surely a Moon Fae better equipped than I am.”
“I believe you can transform the energy of the curse.”
I look up. “And what? Turn it into something better?”
He nods gravely. “That is my idea. There is a chance, isn’t there?”
Emyr wants me to break the curse. A halfling, one who can tumble the palace and realm instead—if the prophecy is to be believed.
Pressure. It pushes down on my head, grounding me into the wooden chair beneath me. I focus on the inhale and how it lifts my chest. “But it would take far too long for me to learn to do such a thing, Your Highness.”
“We’ve waited a hundred years, little halfling. We can wait for you, too.”
He’s lying, and we both know it. We have one moon before he must marry someone else. The moon in the sky, bright and full, taunts me in the night. One month. Can I learn to work my magic in time?
“All right,” I murmur. “I’ll read this book to the best of my abilities, and we shall see what it teaches me.”
“We’ll do this together, Miss Ophelia, but you must believe in yourself.” He peers at me from beneath his lashes. “If you can’t have faith, believe in me, for my belief in you—”
“This is becoming quite complicated.”
“I’m afraid you’re right.” He chuckles. “Now, read your book.”
“Alas, I can’t.” I stand, pressing the book to my chest. “I’m going to town with Helena, but if you will allow it, I’ll read this in the carriage.”
His brows furrow. “Are you two going out alone? Shall I send a guard to remain by your side? Perhaps Tibalt—”
“Don’t be so silly.” I roll my eyes and turn away, hiding how pleased the small gesture makes me. “We’ll be just fine, and I’ll see you again shortly, I’m certain.”
“All right, then. Be safe.”
“I’ll try.”
“Let us get a pastry,” Helena whispers. “We deserve a treat after pouring our heart and soul into our duties, don’t we?”
I lift a brow. “But, Miss Helena, we always give our all to our duties.”
“Even more of a reason to buy ourselves a goodie.”
I breathe in the fresh air, relieved to travel far enough that the curse is no longer able to swallow us whole. Brookdale rests on the cusp between the Sun Palace and where the mortals lie—where I once came from, though calling the land of mortals my home doesn’t feel quite right these days.
Even though the curse is close behind us, it’s impossible to feel it here. The sun shines on my skin, and the looming shadows don’t chase us as we stroll through the town. The skies are still gray, with just enough sunlight peeking through the curtain of clouds to lift my spirit.
Pretty gowns sparkle behind glass windows, the smell of buttery croissants wafts from a bakery, and the soft sea breeze kisses my skin.
How are we still so close to the ocean? It feels as though the Sun Palace is in the middle of nowhere, but in the past, it was likely revered as a beachside palace of sun and laughter.
Why am I still thinking of the cursed palace? This is a day without that place, a day without duty, and unlike the day by the lake, nothing can get between me and this moment of relaxation.
No curse. No prince in need of my help. Just Helena and I, using our hard-earned money to buy pastries.
Wandering around a little village without a care almost reminds me of my prior life—the simple life I tolerated. Somehow, I find myself nostalgic for that now that it’s gone.
We step into the bakery. I freeze. Every bit of nostalgia is sucked from me when my attention wanders to the other side.
There she is—my stepmother.
Lady Ashbridge appears the same as ever, wearing all-black attire and looking as though she’s surrounded by cow dung rather than buttery pastries and soft bread. That look of displeasure sends my heart racing. It is colder than the curse.
My chest constricts. My lower lip trembles. I am supposed to move, and I know I am, but I am still leaning on a wall for support.
I don’t realize how loud I’m breathing until Helena speaks beside me. “Are you all right?”
I barely hear her past the ringing in my ears. “Yes… yes… I must wait outside.” I shove coins into her hands. “You’ll meet me there, won’t you?”
“Yes, but—”
I shuffle out. Helena and I are good friends, and I often hang onto her every word, but in this moment, all I can think of is me—and her, my wicked stepmother.
Helena doesn’t know the extent of what I’m running from, and I don’t wish for her to. This is my escape. I am free now… but, heavens, I no longer feel free. My mind traps me in a swirling loop. What if she saw me? What if she drags me home by my hair? What if—
“Ophelia.” There it is, that cruel voice. My name rolls off her tongue as if she still owns it.
I pry my eyes open and find myself face-to-face with Lady Ashbridge. Though I tell the words to come to me, and grasp them with frigid fingers, I can’t speak.
“I prayed never to see you again,” she says. “Of course, the gods rarely grant my prayers.”
“My lady,” I croak. “Apologies.”
What in the realm am I apologizing to her for? It’s not as if I’d hoped to see her. I ran away, and she chased after me. How can it be that the one who pushed me out of my home is here, digging her claws into me once more?
“All done!” Helena’s cheery voice is a relief from the tension. “Shall we go?”
“Yes,” I mutter. “Let me just—”
When I turn to say goodbye to Lady Ashbridge, she’s gone. The sea breeze whips air around in her wake.
Had she truly been there at all? My mind may be playing tricks on me.
“D-did—Did you see a woman here?”
“Just you, the most beautiful woman in the realm.” Helena’s brows furrow. “Are you all right?”
A figment of my imagination. That’s all it was. Perhaps my stepmother is still inside the bakery—or maybe she was not there to begin with.
“Yes.” I force myself to straighten up. Hopefully, I appear more normal than I feel. Let her think I’m fine. “Yes. Let us go to our next destination.”
The next stop is Helena’s family home. I never thought about her family—and how different they may be from mine—but after nearly running into my stepmother, I’m happy to hide in their little cottage.
Their home is almost as lovely as the bakery, smelling of rosemary and burning wood, with little sunbeams leaking in through the windows. Helena’s mother gives us fresh rosemary bread, and we sit around the crackling hearth.