CH. 2 The Beautiful Curse
"You speak liesss," I hiss, each s slicing the air. "Why would my potion not work on a Prince? Princes are the most docile creatures in Kavornos! So eager to please, so eager to be... charming."
I shudder at the memory of my first sighting of royalty. Prince Gavin of Resan — a monstrous man with symmetry so revolting it could make a demon cry. His brows, nose, cheekbones, lips — all perfectly aligned, like someone arranged his face with a ruler. Aunt Agitha nearly vomited on the spot.
The blonde girl before me blinks, the corner of her mouth twitching before she masks it with a frown. "Have you never been to the courts?"
"No. What would a witch like me do in such a filthy place?"
I raise a brow. She told me her name before, I think, but names are useless unless they're carved on tombstones.
"Prince Sorien is everything but docile," she says, in the tone of someone scolding a toddler. "He's charming, yes, but he's... different."
"How different?" I ask.
"He's... difficult." She glances at me, wincing slightly at the sight, though I notice she's more tolerant than most. "Listen — the three Princes are coming to the Lunar Parade this evening. It's in Yakor. If you go, you'll see what I mean."
I narrow my eyes. A trap? Perhaps she plans to stake me in front of everyone — a nice public execution for her shiny reward.
But no one can kill what they can't find. I only choose the desperate ones, the hopeless ones — the ones who will never dare speak of me.
"I'll find out what went wrong with the potion," I say coolly. "Now be gone from my sight. Your ugliness is bothering me."
Her jaw drops. "I'm ugly?" She snorts. "Do you even know what a mirror is for?"
I bare my crooked teeth. "A mirror is the most devious device ever invented! It only shows you what you want to see."
She rolls her eyes and turns away. "I can't believe I fell for this. You're a crook."
A crook. Did she just—?
I can almost feel my blood rush from my feet to my skull, my head ready to burst and scatter my magnificent brain across the dirt. But that's not how a legend dies. So instead, I prick my finger — one neat drop of blood — and the forest obeys.
The shadows shift. The sun sinks. Darkness swallows everything whole.
It's time.
The moon rises, and with it, the curse wakes.
I lift my arms as the loose sleeves of my blouse slip down my shoulders, revealing skin peppered with warts and moles. The moonlight kisses me — and the blemishes begin to fade, absorbed into my skin like ink sinking into parchment.
Bones grind and slide beneath my face, reshaping themselves into something soft. My lips swell — thick and red. My hair, once greasy and black, spills down my back in waves of obsidian that shimmer into silver at the tips.
I gasp when it ends.
Every time feels like the first. Every time feels wrong.
Marching back to my hut, I catch a glimpse of myself in the dusty mirror. There she is again — that thing. That perfect, smooth, glowing creature that mocks everything I am. My reflection. My curse.
I press a hand to the glass. "Why must you exist?"
The beautiful witch stares back, silent, smug.
Why can't I look like my ma or Aunt Agitha — proud, glorious monsters?
Why must I turn into this at sundown?
Is this why my potion failed on a Prince? Because they and I are cursed by the same disease — beauty?
No. That can't be it. There must be another reason.
I drop onto my stool, thinking. Aunt always told me to stay hidden — that humans would never understand my greatness, that one wrong glance could end me. When I was small, the thought of them terrified me. But after meeting her customers, I learned they're not frightening — just greedy.
A wish becomes ten wishes, then a hundred. They are never content.
But am I?
Am I content, rotting in this inherited hut like a jarred frog on a dusty shelf?
No. I am not.
I want the world to see me. To know me. To worship me.
They should build shrines for witches — not pyres.
I nod. Then nod again. Then laugh — loud, manic, triumphant.
"Hik hik hik! I, Andromeda Felicia Darling, will rule the world!"
"Rule the world!" Leonardo croaks from his aquarium.
I can almost hear Aunt Agitha's gravelly voice echo in my head:
Tut tut tut, foolish girl. Andromeda the Second, you'll end up stew one day.
I grin wide, shaking her memory off. "That's right, Leonardo."
I reach for my cloak, eyes glinting in the moonlight.
"Let's go crash the Lunar Parade."