CH. 73 The Day the Curse Forgot Itself
Night settles gently over the Dark Forest.
The moon hangs low, silver and soft, catching in the leaves like a lantern hung by the gods themselves. Drew pushes open the door to her crooked little cottage, stepping inside first—beautiful, radiant, hair falling like ink down her back.
Sorien follows her in, hesitant but warm-eyed, taking in the shelves of potions, the crooked furniture, and the vibrant chaos that is Drew’s home.
“Welcome to my lair,” Drew says dramatically, sweeping an arm. “Please ignore the structural instability. And the smell. That’s mostly frogs.”
Something blurps accusingly.
Sorien startles. “What was that?”
Drew grins like the devil. “Oh! Let me introduce you.”
She rushes to a tiny tank where a tiny axolotl blinks up at the prince with the unimpressed air of a monarch.
“This is Leonardo,” Drew says proudly.
“He eats worms, stares judgmentally, and is probably immortal.”
Leonardo blurps again.
“…He doesn’t like you,” Drew adds cheerfully.
Sorien bows slightly to the axolotl. “It is an honor.”
From above, five fuzzy shapes begin descending like extremely polite spiders who have been practicing synchronized entrance choreography for years.
“Ah—here come the girls.”
Vivi, Gigi, Lili, Mimi, and Bibi land on Drew’s shoulders, arms, and hair, purring (yes, purring—Drew insists that’s what it is).
Sorien steps back a little too fast.
“They’re… large.”
“They’re perfect,” Drew corrects, beaming.
“Girls, this is Sorien. Don’t bite him. Unless he insults me. Then you may nibble.”
Five tiny mandibles click in unison.
Sorien swallows. “Understood.”
---
Later, when the cottage settles and the forest hums outside the window, Drew sits at the edge of her bed brushing her hair. Sorien stands by the hearth, watching her with soft eyes.
“You should rest,” he says.
“You should stop hovering like a worried chicken.”
“I’m not—hovering,” Sorien insists.
His voice softens.
“…But I’d like to stay until you fall asleep.”
Drew’s heart somersaults.
“Sure,” she manages.
He sits beside her bed, leaning against the wall, sword at his side. She watches him for a moment—his tired eyes, the cut on his cheek, the quiet strength.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
“For what?”
“For not running away screaming.”
He meets her eyes. “Drew… I never want to run from you.”
That’s all it takes.
She falls asleep smiling.
---
Birdsong wakes her.
But something else wakes Sorien.
He sits up sharply.
Drew’s hair sprawls across the pillow, shimmering. Her skin glows like moonlight. Her lashes soft and long.
Beautiful.
Still beautiful.
“Drew,” he whispers. “Drew—wake up.”
She stirs. “Mmm?”
“It’s morning.”
“Okay?”
“You’re still—”
He gestures vaguely at her entire face.
“—like this.”
Drew shoots upright.
“What—NO—THE SUN? WHAT TIME IS IT?!”
Sorien checks the light. “Fully risen.”
“HOLD ON—No. No no no. Sometimes it’s late! Sometimes it’s late!” She runs to the window and peers out. “Maybe it didn’t rise, maybe the sun is broken—”
“It’s not broken,” Sorien says, amused.
“Okay, okay, okay—let’s wait until lunch. Yes. Lunch. The curse likes lunchtime.”
---
To “kill time” (her words), Drew drags Sorien to the nearest village.
She holds his arm.
People stare.
Children point.
Women whisper.
“Is she a goddess?”
“No—an elf—”
“No—an angel—”
Sorien stares at Drew like he agrees with all three.
Drew whispers through clenched teeth, “I AM UNCOMFORTABLE.”
“You look stunning.”
“I look STARED AT. It’s awful. I hate it. Buy me fruit.”
He buys her fruit.
They walk the market, sharing pastries, laughing at poorly carved moon statues, arguing about whether frogs are superior to horses (Drew: yes; Sorien: absolutely not).
For Drew, it feels like the closest thing to a date she’s ever had.
For Sorien, it’s the closest thing to peace.
---
The sun dips lower.
Sorien glances at the horizon.
Drew gnaws her nails.
“Any second now,” she mutters. “Yup. Any second—”
She freezes.
“Did it happen?!”
He shakes his head gently.
Drew panics.
“What do you MEAN no?! Okay okay I’ll check—”
She runs inside.
Looks in the mirror.
Still beautiful.
Still glowing.
Still curse-free.
Slowly, Drew lowers her hands and whispers:
“…Well, I’ll be damned.”
Sorien enters behind her, breath catching.
Drew turns to him, eyes wide.
“I think… I think the curse is lifted.”
Sorien steps closer.
Close enough to touch.
“Then,” he says softly,
“you’re finally free.”
Drew breathes out, shaky and bright.
Free.
For the first time in her life—
Free.