Chapter 30
CHAPTER THIRTY
OPHELIA
The shadows are taking me. I can’t sleep, and I can’t marry Emyr. I can’t be here—not for another second.
It’s the dead of the night when I sneak out of Emyr’s bedchamber. Each step is shaking and erratic, as is my heart when I stand at the door, my fingers pressed to the cool wooden doorframe. Emyr is sleeping in bed, as peacefully as one can be.
His chest rises and falls, and his hair is splayed on top of his silken pillow cases. He’s sweet, his lips softly parted to allow gentle air through. As much as I long to crawl back into bed and pretend all is well, I can’t.
This is how I’ll remember him.
I must go. I must leave him without a word or a letter and escape to a place where he can’t find me.
It’s not the right thing to do—or perhaps it is. My being here won’t help. How can I be the one to bring ruin to the land, and the one to save it? It makes little sense.
The prince must have another true love. It mustn’t be me.
It’s not Minetta either, but there is someone else.
Someone else will break this curse. Perhaps the sorceress will save everyone, as the prophecy claimed.
If mortals could have been so wrong about the evil fae, maybe they were about the sorceress as well…
But were they wrong about me? About the halfling? I can’t say.
I go to my bedchamber and throw all I can into a bag. Gods. When did I begin owning so many things? I have too many dresses and little room for everything I must carry. In the end, I take only the things that matter: one plain morning dress and the ring Emyr gave me.
While I’m leaving without saying goodbye to him, there’s one person I must bid farewell to.
The maid’s bedchamber was once my place of comfort. It was where I could hide away with Helena and giggle through the night. It was the only place I couldn’t be asked to work or clean. Emyr even visited on occasion. Our little room is filled with memories that I’ll hold onto.
It’s late. No one is here to question me when I creep into my old bedchamber without a word.
My bed is still vacant, but someone will soon take my place.
I hope they take my place in more than one way.
Helena must find new friends—new people to bring her the joy she brought me.
That’s my wish for her, and if I can truly grant wishes, I hope this one comes true.
Perhaps she should find love, too. I think she would like that.
“Why’re you here?” Helena mumbles, opening an eye. “I can feel you watching me, y’know. Just about scared me enough to wet the bed.”
I shake my head and press my lips together. Even on a night like tonight, Helena can make me laugh. “You don’t seem so terrified.”
“I’m too sleepy to emote.” She sits upright. “Is something wrong? Don’t tell me—you’re fighting with your prince.”
My prince. She once called him that to tease me, but it’s true now. He’s mine, and I am his. Despite this, I must let him go… let us go.
“No, no,” I say weakly. “He’s as lovely as ever.”
“What else could cause you to disturb me at this hour?”
My lower lip trembles. “I’m afraid I must leave regardless of how lovely he is.”
“Leave?” She blinks away sleep. “This must be a dream. I can’t even pretend to understand what you’re saying.”
“You don’t have to understand. It’s for the best that you don’t, but you’ll wake up tomorrow, and I’ll be gone. I didn’t want it to be a shock.”
“Why?” Her eyes narrow. “Can you give me a good reason for you to leave?”
“I can’t.
“Then I don’t believe you, not one bit. He must have done something. I’ll march to his bedchamber and knock some sense into him.”
“Helena!” Even in my moment of despair, she makes me laugh. “You mustn’t speak of such things. He’s your prince as well, and I’m leaving for my own reasons.”
“Then I’m going with you.” She holds her head higher. “Those are the only options, I’m afraid.”
I must not hear her properly.
Helena has a family to care for and friends in the palace. Though I would never say it aloud, she’s not the strongest of the fae. If she chooses to come with me in the dead of night, she’s putting herself in danger, and her family as well.
I shouldn’t accept the offer, but my time in the Sun Palace has weakened me. I long to have people by my side.
“You would do that? For me?”
“I’d do far more than this for you.” Her gaze moves to the little desk crammed into the corner. “Give me a minute to pack, and we’ll be off.”
“Quickly. We must leave before sunrise.”
Helena and I have no carriage. We leave on foot, ambling down the road, tempting the curse to swallow us whole. Yet excitement rushes through my body with each step. Even though I’m running from the one I love, I cannot help but feel… free.
The burden is gone. I’m saving the palace from myself, as intended, and he’ll break the curse with someone else; Emyr is very lovable, after all.
He’ll find someone new. This is no longer my responsibility.
I’ve spent so long being given responsibilities and duties that weren’t mine, and I can no longer take this one on.
“Can’t we stop for a bit?” Helena whines, not for the first time. “I’m bloody tired, and my feet are aching something awful.”
I look at her over my shoulder. “We’ve only just begun our journey.”
“I have a bit of money for a tavern. C’mon.”
We must eventually take a break, but it’s too soon. If we stop now, Emyr may soar through the skies and find us, and if he asks me to come home… I’m weak enough to listen. And regret it.
With the sun rising soon, it will be easier for the winged prince to find us.
The energy thrumming through me gives me the wrong ideas, and it sparks at my fingertips. I’ve been practicing my magic for weeks now. Surely… surely I can create something…
My attention lands on a puddle of darkened water. The rain has been a nuisance, filling my boots and coating me in coolness, but it may be helpful.
Look to water, Isa once said.
“I have another idea,” I say. “What if I make us a portal?”
Helena’s eyes widen. “What do you know about portal magic?”
“I have been researching in the library. Emyr—he gave me a book. The instructions were quite clear.”
I’ve never been brave enough to try magic of this caliber. According to what I’ve read, we may be trapped between dimensions if the portal isn’t made precisely.
Would that be worse than where I am now, stuck between two worlds that don’t want me?
“Researching is not the same as doing it,” Helena cries. “I’ve heard about people getting stuck in those things, you know.”
“But it may work.” My smile is big enough to hurt my cheeks. “You must trust me. We can take the portal somewhere else, and then we can find a tavern.”
“But why? Surely there is one nearby?”
I ignore her and kneel by the puddle, dipping a finger in and slowly circling the water, channeling my energy into the puddle. Closing my eyes, I summon a village. Any village but the one I grew up in. The Moon Palace. That would be lovely. We would be far enough that no one could ever find us…
“Ophelia.” Helena gasps. “It’s working. I can see it.”
“Then come on.” I hold out my other hand. “Let us go.”
Before she can respond or make a choice of her own, the portal pulls us in. The energy grabs me by the head, tearing each strand of my hair and vibrating my body. Every speck of magic in me bursts, pulls, twists.
I yelp, but it’s of no use.
Helena stands across from me, surrounded by lavender magic. For the first time since we’ve met, she looks at me with pure terror: eyes wide, lips parted on a silent scream.
She melts into a puddle.
The magic is taking us. It owns us. Owns me.
My stomach flips and flops. It’s as if I am a child rolling down a hill, collecting dirt and grass. It’s bumping and bruising. The vibration in my body grows. Intensifies. It’s as if I am nothing. No one. A blur of color and motion.
For a moment, I cease to exist.
And just as quickly, I burst back into reality.
Helena squeals as we land, both on our bottoms, in the middle of a quiet street. The ache in my behind brings me back to reality, proof that I still exist. That I’m alive.
“I did it!” Tears stream down my face. I sit up and wipe them away, peering around the darkened land. “But this isn’t the Moon Palace.”
“Who cares about where we are?” Helena laughs, somewhere between exuberant and terrified. “You created a bloody portal.”
“I suppose I did.” I stand, offer Helena a hand, and lift her to her feet. “Come on. Let us find an inn. Perhaps we can get a celebratory drink.”
“Please! I think we both deserve a drink after—”
“I am afraid that is not where you are going tonight.” A cruel voice speaks from over my shoulder.
I clutch Helena’s hand tighter and turn slowly, fighting my fears. The village. It is familiar, I realize… a place I know best.
And the face in front of me, wretched and beautiful, is one I know just as well.
“Lady Ashbridge.” My voice shakes. “What—what are you doing here?”
EMYR
I wake up alone.
Aside from the first night we spent together, Ophelia never wakes up before me.
She enjoys her sleep. I’ve always suspected it is from a life of rising early to care for others, and I take great pride in letting her rest as much as she wishes.
Some days, that means bringing her breakfast in bed—or calling for someone else to.
That’s the plan for this particular morning. She’s been low lately, and I fully intend to surprise her with waffles. Something sweet. Something to make her feel better.
That’s impossible—she is gone. She can’t have left for her duties, as she no longer works for the palace. Without truly knowing what went wrong, I immediately know. My stomach is sick, and the room is colder without her.
Something is wrong with my betrothed. I knew it over dinner, though she tried to explain it away. How could I have ignored what was so plain to see?
I barge from my room and find the first guard in the halls.
“Where is Miss Ophelia?” I ask in a commanding tone.
The man freezes. “I do not know, Your Highness.”
“You haven’t seen her? You didn’t see her leave?”
He shakes his head. “I switched with the night guard only an hour ago.”
“Find the night guard and tell him to speak with me. Quickly.” I sound far too much like my father, barking at guards. “You must find my betrothed. If you see her, I’ll be the first to know. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Hours pass, and my dread grows. She’s gone. I can’t find Helena, and even Tibalt hasn’t seen her—hasn’t seen either of them.
I pace around what was once her shared bedchamber. The room is emptier without her presence, but most of Helena’s things still linger.
“Perhaps they’ve gone to look at gowns,” Tibalt says.
“No.” I shake my head. “She would’ve told me when we were speaking of gowns the evening before.”
Including a folded note on top of her pillow.
“Read that, please,” I mutter. “I don’t have the stomach for it.”
Tibalt lifts the letter. “It’s for you.”
“Dammit all.” I bang my forehead against a wall with a soft thud.
“You are right.” He clears his throat and stows the letter away. “They’ve left. This letter is from Helena. She doesn’t know where they are going, but… she says Ophelia seems upset, to say the least.”
Tibalt is likely hiding the extent of Ophelia’s distress, but I can’t complain. That’s what I need.
I’m moments from weeping with desperation. “What am I to do?”
“Is that truly a question?” Tibalt’s eyes lift from the letter and lock onto mine with severity. “Helena wants you to find them. So, you must do that—and I’ll join, of course.”