Chapter 18 #2
Her mother appears just like her, but older and plumper. A toddler, Helena’s nephew, plays with a stack of wooden blocks in the corner. Helena’s sister may as well be her twin, with matching wings and the same playful laughter.
“How long have ye been working with Helena at the palace?” her mother asks.
“Not long,” I say. “Nearly one month, yes?”
“Mhm—and she’s good company to have.” Helena smiles warmly. “I’d probably pull my hair out if I didn’t have such a fantastic friend by my side.”
“Glad to hear it,” Helena’s sister, Eliza, mutters. “Your last roommate was a tad—”
Her mother cuts off Eliza with a single look—not cruel, but stern. “Let’s be kind. We don’t want to give her new friend the wrong impression.”
“Don’t fret about that,” Helena says. “Ophelia already knows how much better she is than the last hag.”
The room erupts into laughter, a gleeful sound that erases all my worries. It’s as if the curse doesn’t exist, and I understand now why her family chooses to live right outside of it, even if it means they are farther from Helena.
On the way out, I ask Helena, “Why would you not wish to live here, with your family? They are positively lovely.”
“Ah, gods. I wish I could.” She lifts a shoulder and closes the door behind us. “I wouldn’t be able to help them as much that way. Half my pay goes to them, y’know.”
That explains why she is such a hard worker.
My brows furrow. “No. I didn’t know.”
“Well, now you do.” She beams. “C’mon. Let’s get out of here.”
For the first time since my father’s death, I feel understood—I am understood, even if Helena doesn’t know how much we have in common.
I sacrificed myself to keep my stepsisters safe for years.
Helena is giving her family everything, even if it means living in a cold and cursed land.
Perhaps I’m not the only one with a past, but I still don’t feel ready to tell Helena everything about myself.
Not yet.
They are all people—sweet beings like any mortal I’ve ever known. I would say they’re even lovelier than some mortals. Spending the day with them made me realize something I’ve slowly been understanding for the last few weeks… ever since I was pushed from my home.
The rumors about bloodthirsty fae were more than rumors and gossip—they were outright lies. The fae are not monsters. They’re kind, gentle people. It’s not their nature that harms; it’s the curse.
I’ve just arrived back at the palace when the prince stops me. His fingers brush so briefly against mine that I may have imagined it, barely feeling the touch through the lace gloves that separate us. He stops me with a bold declaration that leaves my cheeks flushed.
“Miss Ophelia,” Emyr says, stopping me at the palace entrance. “You must leave town with me. At once.”
Helena’s curious gaze is stuck on my reddening face.
I lift a brow. “You certainly have taken to making demands of me, Your Highness.”
“It is important.” The look he gives me makes his intentions clear.
His request must have to do with the curse.
I nod, slightly enough that only he may see it. “I will consider your offer, but if you require a maid to accompany you, you may want to consider Helena. She’s far more experienced than I am.”
His attention flickers to Helena, and then down at his perfectly polished boots. A red flush creeps to the tips of his pale, pointed ears. “I will certainly keep that in mind. Thank you both for your time.”
“When will this trip take place?” I ask before he can scurry off.
“Three days. Is that too soon?”
Helena pipes up. “Not at all. She’ll be ready, and I’ll happily take care of her duties while she’s gone.”
“That won’t be necessary.” The prince coughs. “I’ll have everything arranged, as far as duties are concerned.”
“I’m sure you will.” I hold his gaze for a moment before turning away and grabbing Helena’s arm to ensure she follows rather than lingering with the prince.
“What in the realms was that about?” Helena whispers once we are out of earshot.
Could Emyr not have waited until I was alone to make requests of me?
He and I have a secret that has entirely to do with saving his palace, and he should be better at keeping it. Oh, how frustrating he is. Does he not realize the conclusions my meddling companion will jump to?
I grind my teeth together. “Nothing.”
“That sure didn’t look like nothing. Is it a romantic escape? Will there be candlelight, and a second bed that goes unused? Or perhaps there will only be one bed—”
“No. Helena, you must stop right this instant.”
“Of course. How right you are. That would be inappropriate, Miss Ophelia. He’s still betrothed, you know.”
“It would be—entirely inappropriate, unbecoming!” My stomach flips. “I would never… We’re going away on business, if you must know. That’s why he is arranging it—it’s work for me. Nothing more.”
We duck into our bedchamber, and Helena pins me with her scrutinizing gaze.
“But there is something more, isn’t there?” she hisses. “You must tell me. I consider you my dearest friend. You can’t keep secrets from me.”
“Helena, please…” What is there to tell? I wrestle with the words, staring up at the ceiling. “He and I have become better friends. That’s all.”
Will Helena understand that we’re more than friends? For we are, but it is not at all romantic. It is a simple alliance.
She squints. “Is that truly it? Friendship, with the prince?”
“Yes.” I clear my throat. “I’m sure you realize I have affections for him—”
“I realized the day I met you, yes. It had been in good fun then, but now…”
Helena has every right to treat my feelings for the prince as a jest, but they’re not. They’re growing into something I can’t manage, and her curiosity feels more like judgment. She should judge me for adoring a betrothed man.
“Now it’s the same,” I say. “Nothing can come from it. You understand that.”
“…yes. I understand.” She seems reluctant to say it and quickly moves on, propping herself at the sewing machine in the corner of the room. “Guess I only have three days to make you the perfect riding habit.”
“Oh, I don’t need—”
She glares. “Don’t argue with me. You’re travelin’ with a prince, and my hand-me-downs won’t do for this trip.”
There truly is no arguing with Helena when she looks at me like that. I’m so fond of her, and she considers me her greatest friend. I’ve never had a friend like this. If the one time she is fierce rather than comforting is when she wants to gift me with a gown, then so be it.
“All right,” I murmur. “Thank you, dear friend.”