Chapter 31
Caeo
Owena’s bedroom is nearly identical to mine, with an enormous bed covered in forest-green blankets sitting atop a collection of soft fur rugs.
The main things setting it apart are all the potted flowers and cream-colored candles on every surface, plus the various knick-knacks she’s left lying around.
A peachy shawl, a hairbrush, and a collection of small jars on a table holding an obsidian mirror.
The western window lets in the warm light of the setting sun. It catches on Owena’s golden hair where she sits at a low table, organizing her things. The party’s still going, its music faint on the breeze.
“Your gift is in there,” she says, nodding toward a small set of drawers by the bed. “Bottom left.”
I give her a curious look before crossing the room. Whatever this is, it should work in my favor. Get a gift, give a kiss, get my answers.
The drawer catches as I slide it open, revealing…
A wooden pipe and some speckled long leaf!
“You found some?” My heart leaps upward. I hastily gather everything and dump it on the table Owena just finished clearing, leaving all rules of propriety behind.
She leans closer. “I had to send one of my handmaidens for it.”
I inspect the leaf, inhaling its sharp, grassy scent. My shoulders relax instantly.
“It’s only orange,” I note.
“Only orange? You do red?”
I give her a side-eye. “Don’t judge—you know my mother.”
“True.” She shifts her weight, her posture relaxing slightly.
I grab one of her clay jars, using its edge to grind up the leaf. It does a shit job, but it’s not like I have any better options. I pack it all into the pipe and swipe the candle from the center of the table.
The first hit melts everything away.
Fuck, I missed this.
I glance at Owena. Time to see if I can loosen her lips. “Want some?”
She accepts, taking a surprisingly long puff.
“Who knew a fancy princess liked to fade on the leaf?”
She raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t grow up with my father.”
Laughter falls out of me, and I fall over. I could have stayed sitting, but why bother? It’s more comfortable down here.
Ooh… I’ve been doing too much red lately. I’d forgotten what orange is like. More giggles, less floating away.
I run my fingers along the fluffy fur rug. “Why does everyone wear shoes here? These rugs feel amazing.” I tug at my boot. My toes need to feel this.
“Do mortals not have rugs?”
“I didn’t. We were too poor.”
Owena scoots closer to hand me the pipe, and I drop my shoe to take another inhale.
Too much. Coughs burst out of me.
“The queen was poor?” Owena lies on her back next to me, running her arms through the fluff. “I’d have liked to see that.”
“She always wore this stupid widow’s mantle. Maybe it was to hide her ears.” My brow scrunches as I get lost in the whorls on the ceiling. “I don’t actually remember her ears…”
“She has ears.”
“No, from before. I don’t think I ever saw them. How did I not think that was weird?”
“I don’t know. How did you miss your own?”
I squint, trying to recall my mother’s explanation, but it’s been a while and my brain’s all funky. “I don’t remember.”
“Then perhaps you’ve had too much of this.” Owena reaches for the pipe, but I pull it away. She falls on top of me, grasping at air.
Her lips land right in front of mine.
“Hello.” Heat rushes into me as I meet her eyes. They’re mesmerizing, like staring into an abyss.
Her cheeks flush, whether from our proximity or the long leaf, I don’t know. “Hello.”
I bring my hand to her face, tucking her soft hair behind her ear. “Ready for that kiss yet?”
The corners of her eyes crinkle with her smile. “Not at all. You still stink.” Her fingers press into my chest as she pushes herself off me, and I sit up, sniffing myself.
“How is that possible?” I don’t smell anything.
Whatever. I take another hit from the pipe, but Owena snatches it from my hands before I’m done. “Hey!”
I hold myself back from fighting her for it; if she wants to play hard to get, letting her loosen up more could be exactly what I need. She scooches away as she inhales, then relaxes with her back against the wall. I slump next to her, taking it out of her loose grip.
“So where do you want us to live?” I send some smoke rings toward the ceiling. “The south? I assume it’s warmer there.”
“That would be my preference, yes.” Soft curls tickle my cheek as her shoulder sinks into mine.
“I could do that. Get away from my mother.”
Owena lets out a sharp laugh. “That’s why it’s unlikely to happen. She won’t let you go.”
“She doesn’t care about me that much.” If she did, she wouldn’t be forcing me to marry.
“Caring has nothing to do with it. We’re both just tools for our parents. We live and die at their whims.”
Huh? “What are you talking about?”
The shadows of the room flicker in the candlelight as Owena goes quiet, picking at my fingers. “There’s so much you don’t understand, Caeo.”
“Then explain it to me.”
“You’re better off not knowing.”
“You don’t get to decide that.” My stomach tightens, and my high wavers as goosebumps tingle a warning down my spine. But I need to push. To know.
“Who’s Taran?” I ask.
Owena closes her eyes, taking a breath. “Your brother. The one your mother’s in the process of stealing the realm from.”
My high is officially gone. I drop her hand.
“What?”
My brain stumbles through my memories, through conversations with Mother. There—when I first woke up here. I was alone, without my family. I decided I would make a new one.
Oh shit.
“I thought she took the realm from her husband when he died.”
Owena opens her eyes, their darkness full of sympathy.
“Gethin wasn’t an Evermoor. Taran inherited the throne when your mother was exiled, and Gethin ruled since he was a child.
I’m fairly certain my father organized his assassination on your mother’s behalf, allowing her to reclaim the throne—I know he was smuggling her water near the end.
Our marriage is simply a cover to hide the true reason for peace between our realms.”
Fuck. That’s probably Taran’s bed I’m sleeping in. He must hate me for taking his place.
This is not what I was expecting from loosening Owena’s lips. The room’s closing in around me, its spacious luxury turning foreign and cramped.
I groan as I rub my face, thinking back to the party guests. They didn’t seem troubled by this at all. “Why doesn’t this bother anyone?”
“Ignoring that she has my father’s support, you’ll find most people don’t care who rules as long as their lives are comfortable. And she ruled for centuries, while Taran’s barely more than a child by our standards.”
I drop my hand. “But she wants to start a war.”
Owena gathers her hair away from her neck, smoothing it out. “As far as the people know, her return ended the conflict with Ystyr—war with the mortals feels more abstract, since they can’t attack our villages. It’s more palatable than taking up arms against other fae.”
“And you didn’t think it’d be helpful for me to know any of this? What happened to being friends?”
“How does knowing this help you?” Owena asks, her voice hardening. “By sharing it, I’ve only made your life more difficult. Which makes my life more difficult.”
“I could confront her, at least.”
She shoots upright, grabbing my arm. “You can’t. You don’t understand what she can do. She’s already cursed you once, and—”
“Curse?” The temperature drops. “What curse? What are you talking about?”
Owena squeezes her eyes shut, pressing her lips tightly together. She slowly exhales, then looks into my eyes. “You have a curse on you. I can smell it.”
My breath hitches. “You can smell curses?”
“My family is particularly skilled with them.” She smiles weakly. “Congratulations. You no longer need to kiss me.”
I really don’t feel like celebrating that right now. I push to my feet, unable to sit still any longer, but there’s nowhere to go.
“What kind of curse?”
Owena shrugs, running her finger down the wall from where she still sits on the floor. “A memory one, I’d guess.”
A pit opens in my stomach and my entire body sinks into it. “What’s she hiding from me? What am I missing?” I scour my memories, but how can I remember something I don’t remember?
“I don’t know.”
I kneel in front of Owena. “Can you break it?”
She bites her lip, twisting her hair for several seconds before letting out a slow breath. “If I could… whatever it is you’ve forgotten, your mother doesn’t want you to know. It would be very dangerous for both of us if she discovers you remember.”
My heart quickens, pounding in my chest. “Please. I’ll keep my mouth shut, do whatever you want, but you have to break it.”
Owena searches my face for an agonizing minute. Finally, she nods. “This won’t be easy on you.”
“I don’t care.”
She hesitates again, then sighs. “Don’t make me regret this.”
Owena places her fingers on each of my temples, then closes her eyes. For a moment, nothing happens.
I cry out as a sudden, searing pain slices through my head, weaving between the folds of my brain. Like a scorching hot light, searing every thought I’ve ever had.
Everything goes black. Then, images. Sounds. Textures. Faint at first, but growing clearer.
Blood rushes through me. My mind reels as memories flash by.
A face.
A beautiful face, with warm, cinnamon eyes, chestnut hair, and a dimple I absolutely adore.
Ellie.
Oh fuck.
I fall away from Owena, retching until my stomach empties onto the rug.
“Caeo!” Owena grabs onto me, keeping me upright. She guides me away from my vomit and leans me against the wall.
“What is it? What do you remember?”
Tears stream down my face. “She took Ellie.” I choke on the words. “I couldn’t remember her. She couldn’t remember me. It was her doing. She took her from me.”
I’m breathing deep, heavy breaths, but they aren’t doing anything. There’s no air.
I need to… I can’t…
I close my eyes, the balls of my fists digging into my eye sockets. My chest heaves, a hollow ache throbbing behind my ribs. Then silence, broken only by the distant wails of woodwinds.
“Did you love her?” Owena asks, her voice quiet.
A sharp pain cracks through me. “With all my heart. She’s everything.” Ellie’s face forms in my mind, but the fire it should have ignited is cold as ice.
Owena squeezes my shoulder. “Do you know what happened to her?”
“No.” It comes out as a sob, my eyes opening. “I knew my mother wanted to take me away. I told her. She was scared. But we couldn’t remember each other when we weren’t together—she won’t even know I’m gone. That I ever existed.”
I curl my knees to my chest as my tears fall. We should’ve gone to the headmaster. My gut told me it was fae; I should’ve listened. Should’ve pushed harder.
Everything hurts, splintering out from my heart. My body wants to collapse into itself, but my mind flails for answers.
Why would Mother do this? All my other girlfriends… She just creeped them out until I wasn’t worth it anymore.
Or did she? I wouldn’t know if I can’t remember.
No—Owena only mentioned one curse.
Unless she had another way of doing it. All fae can curse; I remember that much, at least. But Owena’s family is extra good at it. Their royal gift.
I wipe my eyes. “What’s the Evermoor family gift?”
Owena blinks as her mouth drops open, then swallows. “Willbending. The ability to force one’s will on others. Make them do whatever she wants.”
Everything suddenly clicks. So many moments when I wanted nothing to do with my mother, but she’d tell me to do something… to follow, calm down, take Owena for a walk… and I just did.
“Fuck.” The back of my head makes a painful thunk as it hits the wall behind me. It’s even worse than I thought.
But if it’s a family gift…
“Can I willbend?” I rack my brain for any times someone might have done something I asked more easily than I expected. Outside of charming girls, nothing comes to mind.
“With your mortal blood, it’s difficult to guess,” Owena says, “and it’s unlikely your mother would ever teach you how.
” She takes my hands, pulling them close.
“Please, Caeo. You can’t confront her. At best, she’ll curse you again.
At worst, she’ll just force you to do whatever she wants.
But she’ll know it was me who broke it.”
I search her face in the dim candlelight, the sun having almost set. Her fear looks real, her lip trembling. I really did make her life harder, didn’t I? I didn’t mean to; I just wanted her help.
My eyes sink shut. What do I do now? I thought I understood my situation. That I could manage it.
I was wrong. So wrong.
Owena pulls me into an embrace, and I sob until there’s nothing left. Till I can’t breathe.
The world goes numb. Nothing but throbbing emptiness.
“I’m sorry, Caeo,” Owena whispers. “I should never have said anything. But you need to find a way past this, to pretend nothing’s wrong.”
“It doesn’t matter. She can’t take anything else from me. She already took everything.”
“And what about me?” Owena tilts my head up till I meet her gaze, her voice soft. “You may be content throwing your life away, but can you throw mine away as well? She’ll know it was me.”
I take a deep breath. It hurts. A lot. But Owena’s only at risk because I pushed her. Manipulated her.
She’s the only ally I have—I can’t abandon her. But more importantly, she can free Ellie from the curse.
It’s something to hold on to. I just need to somehow bury my aching heart before my mother sees me.