Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
EMYR
This should be the day I welcome my betrothed back to our future home, but that’s not the case. I’m sick, my body is stiff, and…
I betrayed Minetta—or perhaps she betrayed me. It’s all so confusing.
The only thing I know is that I trust Ophelia with certainty; I have no reason to mistrust her.
Before last night, if someone told me to doubt Minetta, I wouldn’t have been so quick to.
Would she truly lie to gain access to the throne?
Her parents didn’t seem pleased with our union, so it can’t be their doing…
No, I must speak with her before coming to such conclusions. It’s only fair that I give her a chance to explain.
I fasten the last few buttons on my waistcoat and smooth down my hair as I walk through the quiet palace.
Ophelia is here somewhere—likely working—and she’s all I can think about.
That’s where the guilt comes from. Even if Minetta deceived me, I should have spoken to her before taking Ophelia to bed.
And before taking her in the rain before that.
Minetta waits for me in the garden, her bright smile worsening the sickness in my gut. We are near where Ophelia and I ducked away to spend time together. Gods. We should have met somewhere else. My face is positively scalding, and I am caught off guard when Minetta swoops in to kiss my cheek.
“How wonderful it is to be back,” she murmurs.
What am I meant to say to that?
I clear my throat and nod, incapable of meeting her gaze. “Shall we take a stroll through the garden, then?”
“We shall.” She gives me a sideways glance as we wander away. “I’m eager to tell you about my travels. Are you all right? You seem as if… as if you have not had breakfast.”
My brows furrow, and I lead her in the opposite direction, away from where I was with Ophelia the evening before. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“That you are a bit aloof, I suppose.” She tilts her head to the side. “I have found that often, men are in a foul mood when they are hungry. Do you mean to tell me you are the exception to that rule?”
“No.” I nod curtly. “But I have already eaten. Thank you.”
“Then what is the problem? You do not seem thrilled to see me.”
And I should be. She doesn’t create the expectation, but it exists between us, nonetheless.
Minetta probes me with her gaze, seeking an answer. Does she carry the same guilt I do, having lied to me for so long?
Now that I look at her in daylight, she does not resemble Ophelia at all. Her hair is redder, and her wings are violet rather than lavender. The patterns in her wings are entirely different, sharp like stained glass rather than curved like Ophelia’s.
How have I been a fool for so long?
“I am sorry, but I can’t engage in pleasantries any longer.” I force myself to stand straight, lifting my head.
She stops walking. “Emyr? What is it?”
“I know you’re not the one from the ball,” I say in an even tone. “I don’t know why you tricked me, and perhaps that’s not of consequence, but—”
Her eyes widen. “I did not trick you, Your Highness. That is a hefty accusation.”
I face her with a steely look. “What other word could you think of for this?”
“I was not fibbing—I was in attendance at the ball, and we did share a dance. It was lovely for me. I apologize if I was not the one you were thinking of, but… you chose me.”
She’s right. Out of everyone in the room, I chose her. Perhaps I was the one who jumped to conclusions, hoping for another glimpse of Ophelia. I still can’t remember dancing with Minetta, but I spent time with quite a few before and after Ophelia arrived.
It was only that Ophelia captured my attention so completely, just as she has now.
I tear my gaze away. “I’m sorry, but I can’t marry you.”
“Emyr.” She clutches my hands with her unyielding grip, holding me harder than I expect. “You cannot do this to me. I did not mean to confuse you. It was a simple misunderstanding, but that should not negate the month we spent together, planning for our future.”
I tear my hands from hers. “I don’t love you, Minetta. Marrying you won’t break this curse, nor will it bring you joy. What’s the use?”
“Please.” Her whisper is weak, and terror flashes in her gaze. “You assumed something the moment we met, but how was I to know that? Do not do this to me.”
Part of me wants to give in. I’m as weak as she is
“We must,” I say softly, “and I can’t end this alone. Surely, you will agree that it is time our engagement ends.”
“You do not love me.” She grabs my hands and squeezes them so hard it hurts. “I understand that, but I can bear you an heir. They can be the one—”
“No.” I glare and drop her shaking hands. “It must be me. You’ll not keep me from breaking this curse. No one will.”
Her breath comes out in soft, heaving shakes. “I—I suppose, if you think that is for the best.”
Minetta betrayed me, but she’s not the only one at fault. Empathy washes over me.
I close my eyes, attempting to calm myself. “I do. You’ll find someone who can make you happier than I ever could have. I—” I clear my throat. “I’ve not been faithful to you, and I’m sorry for that.”
“You’ve been with someone else?” Her voice becomes shrill. Pleading. Terrified. Hideous. “Who? Pray tell, who has taken you from me?”
“I can’t say. If you’re angry, direct your anger at me, not the other party.”
“But you must tell me. Is it the one from the ball who stole your attention that night? Has she returned to steal it once more?”
I nod, incapable of saying anything else. Ophelia and I haven’t agreed to share our courtship with others, and I don’t wish to say anything that would bring her negative attention.
“You are making a mistake,” Minetta says. “We could have loved one another. We could have joined our kingdoms and broken the curse.”
“Perhaps—and it may be that I am foolish for ending a sure thing for something so uncertain—but I would rather be a fool in love than a man who is so easily tricked.”
She flinches. “I am sorry, Emyr. I did not wish to trick you.”
Her apology may be sincere, but there is something strange about it, and I can’t put my finger on what it is. She has held my gaze this whole time, but now she looks away, fiddling with the ring on her finger.
“It’s fine,” I say. “I only wish for our betrothal to have a quiet end, without scandal.”
And that requires making it appear as though she’s the one to end it. I’m too much of a coward to ask her to make the announcement on her own.
“Then it truly is the end?”
“Yes.” I exhale slowly, the sickness in me transforming into relief. “It is.”
“Then so it is. There is nothing I can do to convince you.” She presses the ring into the palm of my hand. “I hope you do not come to regret this.”
I grip the cold metal in a closed fist. “As do I.”
OPHELIA
“Did you hear?” Helena runs toward me.
Attending to my duties brings me comfort and distraction, and I can only hope the news Helena brings will do the same. The heavy ache in my bones says that may not be the case. When has anything in my life been so easy?
I hang the bedsheet on the drying line. “That depends. What should I have heard?”
“The prince is no longer engaged.”
Despite the heavy humidity of the gray morning, my blood runs cold. This news should excite me—thrill me—but instead, it stuns me.
Helena smiles mischievously.
How does she know the prince ended his engagement before I do? Did he truly do it so quickly?
Somehow, rumors are already spreading through the castle. Has there been an official announcement? What has he said? Surely he’s not yet told them my name.
I hold another damp, white sheet up in my shaking hands.
“Is that so?” I force my voice to sound calm and casual, though it’s a mismatch for how I feel.
“Mhm. You don’t have anything to do with that, do you? It happened so shortly after you were gone for an entire evening… unheard of for you, I must say.”
“Helena. You will have me beheaded.”
“Don’t be silly. We are not like mortal royalty, y’know. Fae live to be thousands of years old—we’re not expected to keep a single lover. Then again, finding someone new while you’re still betrothed… that is scandalous.”
I groan. “That’s not what happened. Will you help me with the laundry, or are you here solely to harass me?”
“You’re right. I can do two things at once.” She picks up the other end of the white sheet and pins it on the drying line. “Tell me what happened.”
It’s hard to tell if Helena’s curiosity is her adoration of palace gossip or her concern for me. Something soft flickers across her features, and despite her aptitude for yapping and trickery, I trust her.
“You mustn’t tell a soul.” I drop the wet fabric, leaving the sheet to blow in the wind, and move closer to Helena.
“Of course, I won’t.” She peers at me earnestly. “Who do you imagine I’d tell? You’re the only one I share secrets with.”
I exhale and shake my head, wiping away the sweat collecting on my forehead. “Princess Minetta deceived him. They were engaged based on a lie, and she was, in a way, pretending to be me.”
She blinks. “Sorry, I don’t follow.”
“I danced with him at the ball—all night, until I ran away.” I tuck a stray hair behind my ear. “Princess Minetta must have said something to make him believe it was her. I don’t fully understand what was said, but…”
“That is quite scandalous. What a little schemer.”
I nod and return to the washing, desperate to keep my hands busy. “Believe me, I was as shocked as you are. What princess would want to pretend to be me?”
“Then you and the prince have truly…?”
My face flushes with warmth. “That’s a private matter.”
“You’re in love, aren’t you? And I’m sure you’ve already made love—”
“Stop it!”
Though it is no laughing matter—engagements have ended, and lives have turned upside down—I find joy giggling over the gossip with my friend, as though it is a simpler situation.
EMYR
“How could you behave so recklessly?” my father spits. “We were so close to breaking the curse. So close!”