Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
OPHELIA
The beauty of my new life has always been unbelievable. Escaping my stepmother, falling in love, and becoming a princess… it’s far too good for me.
How could I possibly have thought I was allowed to have such lovely things? This is always how it was going to end.
The moment of warning Raia gives isn’t enough for us to escape the dreaded sorceress. Lady Ashbridge lingers mere feet behind her, blocking the front door.
“To the garden.” I run in the other direction. “Follow.”
Helena and Emyr run behind me, closely accompanied by my stepsisters. Lightning strikes as the weather takes a sudden turn, rain tapping against the windowpanes.
“Almost there.” I move faster, gliding through the house with my wings carrying me.
Emyr takes my hand in his, offering me a soft grounding moment. The back door, the one that leads to the garden, is just within our reach.
Lady Ashbridge must be behind us. She is older, but she can catch up to us at any time, and I’ll no longer underestimate her magic.
That she’s silent rather than screaming only continues to unnerve me.
It pushes me to run, sprint—faster and faster.
Emyr’s wings wrap around me when we step outside, as if he means to block me from the rain.
“Do we have a carriage?” I ask.
Emyr’s chest puffs. “No. I arrived in a portal.”
“A portal. How did you…?” I shake my head; it’s not important. Not now. “We must run, then. I can’t—I’m not the best at creating portals.”
Especially under pressure.
“Yes,” Elisa shrieks. “Run!”
I huff and puff. “In an orderly fashion.”
My stepsisters are joining us, or so it seems, and I’m unsure if I have the energy to instruct them through what comes next—whatever that may be.
Before we can reach the garden gate, a puff of black smoke appears with Lady Ashbridge within it.
And… and…
Princess Minetta? She’s bound at Lady Ashbridge’s feet, her lips pressed together as if a spell is silencing her.
The smoke curls into my nose. I cough, covering my face with my mouth, and lean closer to Emyr.
“Do you think you’re so sly?” Lady Ashbridge asks. “I knew your prince was coming. I’ve known all along, and that… that was the point, child.”
I jerk my head in Raia’s direction.
“It wasn’t me,” Raia says. “Honest. I didn’t tell her a thing.”
“Do not blame my daughter for your foolishness.” Lady Ashbridge circles us as if we are prey. She gestures to Minetta. “She told me.”
Minetta looks at us with wide, pleading eyes—the eyes Lady Ashbridge reportedly has around the palace. Minetta has been a spy all along.
Emyr stands stiffly beside me, and somewhere… in the smoke… there he is again.
His magical double stands mere feet behind Lady Ashbridge.
His magic may be our remaining hope.
“I’ll blame the one who raised her,” I say, sounding braver than I feel.
My stepsisters remain with us. We outnumber Lady Ashbridge, but she has greater strength than we do. The only one in the group who has magic to rival hers is Emyr, but his magic is not built for a battlefield. Mine certainly is not.
“This is precisely where I wanted you, you know.” Lady Ashbridge stops in front of me. She leans in, her face jarringly close to mine. “Now, I can kill you both, and there will be no one else to take the throne. The Sun Palace will be forever cursed.”
The prophecy.
This is how I, the halfling, bring destruction to the Sun Palace. I’m the ruin after all.
“You should have stayed away from me.” I don’t look at Emyr, even though I am speaking to him. “Now, we will both die—”
“I’ll die with you,” he says. “If that is how it must be, then so be it.”
My throat tightens, making words impossible.
Lady Ashbridge raises her hand in the air and summons a dagger. She inspects the silver blade. “Fae are easy to kill, you know.”
“Then why did you not kill my father?” Emyr asks. “Certainly that would have been easier than cursing the land.”
Lady Ashbridge glances at him carelessly. “I loved him. You know the feeling, I imagine.”
He nods.
“Good. Then we have an understanding of each other.” Without looking away from Emyr, she presses the dagger to my neck. “Our commonalities may help us bond, Your Highness. As one example, we both have ties to Princess Minetta.”
I remain perfectly still, but my shaking hands may give away my fear. “And what are your ties to Minetta?”
“Her family owes me a debt.” She shrugs. “Their sole heir grew ill, and I gave her life. Your ball was the perfect opportunity to use the favor I’ve been saving for many years, but before Princess Minetta could gain your affection, someone else swooped in.” Lady Ashbridge glares at me.
Clearly, she thinks it is my fault. Lady Ashbridge has always blamed me, but she is to blame for it all. Minetta didn’t lie to Emyr of her own free will. It was for Lady Ashbridge—the sorceress.
“You found a way for the princess to weasel into my castle either way,” Emyr drones. “Congratulations.”
“But she was not good enough to trick you into loving her.” Lady Ashbridge stares at Minetta and sighs. “Pity. I will find a use for her yet.”
Minetta lets out muffled, screaming sounds.
“I will let you make the choice.” Lady Ashbridge smiles a wretched smile. “Would you like me to kill Ophelia first?”
“No.” Emyr’s answer comes without a moment of hesitation. Behind her, his double creeps closer. “Allow it to be me. I’ve always had a preference for being the center of attention.”
Minetta seems to spot his double, but she can say nothing. Her screams cease.
Lady Ashbridge clicks her tongue and turns her attention to me. “Lies. He is selfish.” She presses the knife harder against my neck. “He does not wish to watch you die.”
“I find it sweet,” I mutter, my pulse rushing in my ears. “If you two had not already bonded, I would ask you to kill me first, but alas.”
She takes a step away. “How right you are. I must start with him—but do not get too comfortable.”
I rub my hand over the base of my neck. My eyes lock with Emyr’s.
“Kill me,” Emyr says. “Damn my palace. Curse my land, my people, and my friends, but let her live. She’ll be harmless once I’m gone.”
“Emyr!” I gasp. “Don’t say that.”
I’ve never been dramatic enough to tie my life to someone else’s, having already lived through such a significant loss. But a life without Emyr? That’s something I cannot fathom.
“Don’t listen to her,” Emyr says. “I made my choice.”
“You will not tell me what to do.” Lady Ashbridge lunges at him. “You are a foolish, naive man, despite your hundred years. It is best that you never become king.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” Emyr says evenly, without moving his eyes from mine. “I love you.”
“That is quite enough.” Without any hesitation, Lady Ashbridge turns and shoves the dagger into the chest of Emyr’s double. “I am tired of you trying to trick me. I cannot be tricked in my own home.”
It wasn’t the double she stabbed, not at all. The Emyr by my side flickers and dissolves; the fake Emyr, after all.
My heart drops to the ground when the real Emyr does. Blood soaks his torso, and the life drains from his eyes.
Lady Ashbridge addresses her quivering daughters. “What did we learn, girls?”
They sob wordlessly, and the lady of the house continues.
“True love conquers nothing.” Lady Ashbridge turns to me, her smile glinting as bright as her dagger. “And never take someone at their word without a contract.”
I don’t wish to live without Emyr. I spent years in a dull, lifeless existence before I met him. In a single step, I push closer to Lady Ashbridge, lifting my neck in defiance. If I am to die, it will be on my terms. I will take the death with pride.
Emyr lets out a series of gargling, gasping sounds. His energy floats above him, and I’ll join him soon. We’ll float together, happily.
Lady Ashbridge’s energy has always been a strong thing. It was suffocating when I could not use my powers. I could barely be in the same room as her. Now, I feel it for what it is—chaos.
Pure chaos.
It’s easy to push my magic in her direction, wrapping the moon magic around her sorcery. It soothes my energy.
One last good deed.
“You may kill me now,” I murmur. “It would be a kindness, but…” I close my fist and yank her energy.
It’s as if someone else is working through me, the fae in me that has remained asleep for so long.
Silver energy radiates from my chest and fist. “When I die, I’ll take your power with me.
You took my true love, and I’m now chained to you instead. You will die, too. Left with nothing.”
Minetta speaks. Something has freed her. Did I free her?
“Ophelia—you have the gift of the moon goddess.” Minetta gasps. “We haven’t seen this in—in ages!”
Her eyes widen. Lady Ashbridge appears centuries older. The life drains from her face. “Child,” she croaks. “Please. Do not.”
I hold her magic tighter, choking it—choking her, without so much as touching her.
“Ophelia?” Elisa sobs. “What are you—”
I pull the evil magic closer. “I’m doing what I must.”
Lady Ashbridge lunges, but she’s clumsy, as if her bones are old and frail. The dagger drops from her hands.
I’m not doing this for me, for my life. This is for Emyr. This is revenge; I’m not better than the sorceress.
A curse of my own.
Lady Ashbridge falls to the ground, just as he did. She’s in the dirt where she belongs. I pluck the dagger between two fingers, holding it precariously, unlike how I grip her magic.
“Your magic is what keeps you alive after all this time, isn’t it?” I press my boot to her skull. “Don’t answer that. It doesn’t matter. It’s what keeps the curse alive, yes?”
“Please,” she whimpers. “Let me free. I will break the curse.”
Perhaps I could. Maybe I should trust her.
But no.
With a single glance at Emyr’s lifeless, bloody form, I make my choice.
“No, thank you.” When I press my foot into her skull, she crumbles to dust. Expired. “I’ll do it myself.”
EMYR
Ophelia will be the last thing I see, and though her face is full of terror, it’s a lovely image to die with.
Death is surprisingly peaceful once the pain subsides. Pain is nothing. I may be weak, but I can handle it. Knowing she may follow me to death is the most challenging part to accept, even once the hurt subsides.
Where I am is not quite death, though. No gods greet me. I’m nowhere. I’m everywhere. Everything. Floating.
Their voices ring in my ears. Minetta shouts instructions I don’t understand, and Ophelia sobs—but she listens. She’s doing something. She is…
With a sudden yank and a jolt, I’m brought back to my body. The pain returns as well, unlike anything I’ve felt. I clutch my side, only to find that Ophelia’s warm hands are already there, pressing.
Her eyes are full of tears. She’s splattered in dirt, mud, and ash, as though she rose from the cinders. Rain falls onto her drenched curls. Helena and her sisters stand close behind, all three holding each other as if they are old friends.
Only Minetta is alone, quivering a foot away from us.
“Little halfling.” I crack a smile and wipe Ophelia’s tears away with a weak hand—or perhaps it is the rain that coats her face. It’s hard to say. “Why are you crying?”
“Because you—”
“I’m either alive, or you all died with me.” I groan. “That would be a terrible fate. Almost as terrible as being brought back to life with a stab wound.”
She chokes out a laugh. “Emyr! Heavens, we must find a healer.”
“Your love has already healed me.” I try to sit, but she pushes me back down. “I love you.”
“And I love you, you foolish man.”
Her lips on mine bring me back to life for a second time.