Chapter 18
My amulet warmed and tingled against my touch, as if stirring from its previous dormancy to pulse with power that seemed to reach inside me, a key to unlocking the chest preserving my inaccessible memories. I gasped as recollection washed over me like a released tidal wave—some came in fragments that assaulted my mind too quickly for me to piece them together, others came in longer stretches of detail woven to create patchworks that, with effort, finally formed a complete picture.
I felt I was embarking on an internal journey, each memory serving as a signpost chronicling my life. Rather than revisiting my lost memories like one might a collection of stories or viewing them as one might the paintings in a gallery, I seemed to be transported back in time to when they’d unfolded to relive them in painstaking detail.
When my recollections had been hidden behind a veil of forgetfulness, I’d been free to imagine possibilities for what they contained. But now that I was finally forced to face them, rather than the glimmer I’d hoped to discover, they only confirmed that most of my life had been cast in shadow.
There were too many for me to revisit them all at once, so I paused on a select few, beginning with one from my childhood when my dreams for love had first been kindled—a time when even midst my sad life I’d still been able to maintain a sliver of innocence, my only shaft of light before it too was eventually extinguished.
The memory I chose gradually came into focus like stilling ripples of a pond, allowing me to see the details reflected back. The image of a young girl around seven or eight years old rose to the surface; she sat curled up on a window seat in one of the palace’s abandoned rooms where I’d often spent my days.
Even when I hadn’t had a firm grasp on the harsh whispers and judgmental stares of the court that followed me like slinking shadows, I retreated into whatever secluded nook and cranny I could find, my childish attempts to find refuge wherever I could.
On this particular day, my hiding place was discovered by none other than Father. He greeted me with his usual contemptuous look, his hardened expression condemning as he slowly took in my dolls carefully arranged around my table laden with tea as well as the small stack of fairytales I’d spent the morning reading.
“I’ve already indulged you enough by tolerating your existence; it’s high time you stopped these foolish pursuits. How do you expect to one day make yourself useful through an advantageous match if you continue wasting your time on idle play, especially when you have neither beauty nor charm to recommend you?”
I froze, unable to move or respond, which only seemed to anger him further. Without another word, he motioned to his accompanying guard. In one swift move, the guard swept my tea arrangement off the table, causing the porcelain cutlery to shatter. Apparently Father couldn’t stoop so low as to punish me himself, meaning I wasn’t even worth the attention brought by his ire.
I gaped at the broken china and the tea splotching the once immaculate tablecloth, each shattered fragment representing a piece of my life…something in that moment I could never hope to repair, especially when it’d been broken by the man who exerted such influence, the man who should have nurtured and protected me from the world’s censure. The moment he left I retreated to the swing hidden deep within the palace grounds, where I fought against the tears burning my eyes until I had no emotion left.
I slowly swayed back and forth, the motion as close as I could come to a mother’s comforting rocking of her small child. I gazed up, my eyes tracing the graceful daffodils that twined around the ropes, taking some small measure of solace in their quiet beauty and cheerful golden hue. The sharp pain in my chest gradually faded to a dull ache as I lightly traced the delicate petals, admiring the veins that ran through them like tiny brushstrokes.
An idea arose as I bent closer to memorize the delicate details. Perhaps I could request some paints and attempt to recreate this beauty in a more permanent form than the transient blooms. My fingers tingled with the desire to grasp a brush and copy my favorite flowers; maybe in exploring color and texture in seeking to add beauty to the world, I could find comfort and meaning even midst my current hopelessness.
No sooner had the wish appeared than I knew it was impossible. Father would never allow such an impractical pursuit; even if I were able to secretly obtain supplies, he would inevitably find out, and any art I attempted to create would only meet the same destruction as my shattered tea party.
I tucked that dream into a hidden corner of my heart—the only place it could stay beautiful and untarnished—and vowed never to show it to anyone who hadn’t earned my trust. Bit by bit I added other dreams to my secret treasure chest: beginning with the childhood desire for parents who loved me, then friends I could confide in, and finally shy girlhood imaginings of a kind, loving man who would someday see my true self and earn the key to my locked heart.
From that day forward, all my toys and frivolous books were confiscated; in their place I had a strict tutor who kept me busy all hours of the day learning courtly etiquette, feminine accomplishments which did not include any of the art I yearned to study, and some foreign policy that excluded any actual affairs of the country—the fine line of being educated enough to be marketable on the marriage mart, but not enough to be of any actual use to the household I married into.
The seemingly endless hours of study gradually took a toll on my health, but I pushed forward, desperate to earn some form of affection that always felt entirely elusive. My mother didn’t exist outside the scandal-laden whispers I sometimes overheard from the servants despite the topic being banned. At that time I didn’t fully understand the words that haunted me wherever I went—illegitimacy, mistress, common born, imposter—I only knew that they kept me separate from the rest of my family.
The tainted words acted as binding chains, serving not only the reason for the queen’s hatred and my brother’s frequent distance, but impenetrable barriers to my father’s love. I felt I’d committed a grave crime in his eyes that I could never hope to overcome, yet that didn’t stop me from striving to be the perfect royal in a desperate attempt to fit into the world that the circumstances surrounding my birth kept me forever ostracized from.
The secrecy shrouding my birth meant that outside my secluded haven in the garden, I scarcely ever left the palace throughout my childhood so as to keep my illegitimacy as hidden as possible for when the time came to arrange my marriage. This added pressure for whenever I did venture into public deepened my feelings of unworthiness and caused me to withdraw even more.
This memory eventually faded, allowing me to drift along the gallery displaying an exhibition of my recollections and emotions until I paused in front of the next one of interest—the day Father had informed me of my engagement. I’d spent my entire life harboring secret fantasies of a fairytale future where a prince would take me away from my dreary life and finally provide me with the love I lacked.
When I’d grown old enough to fully understand the implications brought by my birth, I realized that my secret wishes were nothing more than fruitless dreams kept locked away without any hopes of them actually coming true—finding happiness in my marriage felt as faraway as the stars. No respectable family would ever align themselves with someone possessing my tainted background…or so I believed until one fateful afternoon Father summoned me to inform me he’d created an arrangement with the Crown Prince of Brimoire.
Shock stilled my thoughts at the name of the man Father had arranged a marriage with—not one of his corrupt advisors or an aging noble of a backwards province, but a prince; and not just any prince but a future king near my own age.
Father awaited a response so I scrambled for my voice. “The Crown Prince of Brimoire wants to marry me?”
“He’s agreed to it, though I sincerely doubt he would have even considered you without the political benefits of the arrangement.”
Even with his confirmation I struggled to grasp the meaning of his words that painted a vision of a future far different than I could have ever imagined for myself.
It appeared I’d failed to understand the bearing of a royal title. Though I hadn’t been born to the queen, I was still the daughter of the reigning king. Even an illegitimate daughter could have purpose for her kingly father if she was married off to the crown prince of a neighboring kingdom; the fact I’d been bred to be passive would make me all the easier for him to manipulate in order to expand his influence.
Father narrowed his eyes. “Don’t delude yourself in thinking that this union changes your inferiority, or use it to put on unnecessary airs. Prince Lucien has no interest in you in particular; there are many benefits to this arrangement for Brimoire, enough for them to overlook your myriad of failings as a princess and destiny to one day become an even weaker queen.”
His attack slashed my heart, as if he’d glimpsed all my hidden hopes and ambitions and immediately acted to crush them before they could even blossom.
I yearned to escape the reality Father reminded me of with every harsh word, but unfortunately he had one final admonition before he dismissed me. “They don’t know of your background’s particular…circumstances, and you are to keep it that way. Understood?” His fierce tone left no room for argument.
His warning confirmed what I’d always feared—Lucien didn’t know of my true, shameful identity. While I was loathe to be complicit in Father’s deceit, he had spent my entire life solidifying my fear of him so that I would never dream of breaking his confidence, not even to build a relationship with my future husband…whom I suspected would serve less as a spouse and instead replace Father in his role as the warden imprisoning all my dreams, especially those pertaining to romance. Even so, I resolved to find the strength to tell him the truth about my background when the time was right.
The claims that Prince Lucien solely viewed our marriage as a political arrangement were confirmed with each meeting and every letter we exchanged. Our correspondence served as another reminiscent path for me to follow one letter at a time, concluding with the final one I received just before my departure. I’d reread this letter over and over during the carriage ride carrying me to Brimoire for the last time before Lucien and I would finally marry.
My thoughts had been torn between hope that our relationship would finally have a chance to flourish now that we would have extended time together, and hopelessness that it was unlikely to progress—just as our years of letters and visits hadn’t led to anything beyond a superficial cordiality.
I recalled now how Aira had watched with disapproval mixed with sympathy from her seat across from me in the rattling carriage as I once more unfolded the letter whose frequent handling had already caused it to become worn, though rereading it was unnecessary considering I already had its contents memorized. I was greeted by Lucien’s penmanship, almost more familiar to me than his voice, considering I’d had better chance to get acquainted with his writing than the man himself.
Dear Lisette,
This will likely be my last letter to you considering the time has nearly arrived for our marriage. I wish to thank you for your dedication to your duty, as well as your faithful correspondence we’ve enjoyed these past several years. I have no doubt that you will make an admirable queen and that together we will serve Brimoire faithfully.
The palace is in a flurry of preparation for the wedding and I am due shortly for a suit fitting so must keep this missive brief, but anticipate seeing you in due time.
Safe travels and best wishes, Lucien
As usual,the letter was entirely absent of the romantic sentiments I yearned for. I tried to read some depth of feeling between the lines as I lightly traced each word, but failed to see anything except for his determination to his duty or that he saw me as anything beyond becoming his admirable queen—a role that my vast list of shortcomings frequently outlined by Father and my lack of queenly example made seem entirely out of reach.
Such a prestigious title felt even more meaningless considering it was absent of any mention of being Lucien’s beloved wife and companion. While love might not be in my future, at the very least he likely wouldn’t treat me with outright cruelty…even as his continued indifference cut just as deeply.
The memories continued in rapid succession, mostly small moments that on their own seemed inconsequential—Lucien’s frequent stoic expressions, bored tone, and extended silences whenever we were in one another’s company—yet together they created the dismal reality of our courtship in streaks of grey, entirely absent of the tenderness Lucien had claimed existed between us.
His voice beckoned me from my voyage across my sea of memories to return to the shore where he waited. It was both a relief to emerge from the exhausting wave of recollection and disorienting to find myself back in his presence after remembering the truth of our befuddling relationship.
I blinked rapidly and he gradually came back into focus. “Are you alright?” Concern that didn’t match any of his other stoic expressions that crowded my memory’s gallery filled his wide eyes as he searched my expression.
My shock and overwhelm prevented me from responding as the recollections I’d just relived in rapid succession converged to form a single, undeniable truth: he’s been lying to me this entire time. The revelation shouldn’t come as such a surprise considering Aira had already suggested this very possibility. The unpleasant truth still caused me to reel; even with all the evidence before me, I yearned to deny it.
He…doesn’t love me. He never did.
Each horrible word created a fresh wound upon my heart. While Lucien’s attitude was no different from all my other failed familial relationships and attempted friendships, this was the first one to leave me broken with no idea how to pick up the shattered pieces…for contrary to his feelings towards me, I’d fallen in love with him.
Finding a cure for my invisibility now felt meaningless. I’d only remained tethered to the visible world in hopes that I had a future here, one far different than the neglect that defined my past. Yet there was no future with a man who not only cared nothing for me, but had lied to me.
“Lisette?” He took a hesitant step towards me, his forehead creased in worry as he searched my expression. I stumbled backwards, anxious to put distance between us until I could make some sense of all the new information at my grasp. His look of pain as I shrank from him caused a corresponding twinge in my heart; I pressed a hand against the aching pulse in an effort to stave it.
My fingers touched the still-warm pendant, drawing my curious gaze. Midst my confusion from all the revelations brought by my unlocked memories came a new puzzle: what had finally allowed me to rescue them from the curse’s consuming force?
Now that I was free from the forgetfulness that had previously held my memories bound, the painful recollections tried to pull me deeper beneath their influence, even as my recent memories of the light created with Lucien ever since the curse had befallen me kept me from fully submitting. I closed my eyes, feeling caught between two realities and unsure which to trust.
“Lisette?” Once more my name on his lips attempted to tug me from the confusing whirl of my thoughts, cradled with a worry that seemed to deepen the longer my silence extended.
He reached for me with a gentleness that belied his indifference I’d rediscovered, a touch that was both welcoming and burning…as was the tenderness and hint of shyness that filled his gaze, remnants of the kiss we’d just shared. Heat flushed my cheeks as I recalled the memory that crowned all our others together.
The kiss…my fingers traced my lips where I could still feel the faint shadow from his gently pressing against mine, a beautiful moment tainted now that I knew that the relationship we’d forged had been nothing more than a fa?ade. Even when faced with the reality of our true courtship, I couldn’t deny how cherished I’d felt that moment when Lucien had cradled me close, kissed me, loved me, emotions that felt far too real to be merely pretend.
I wanted to confront him about his deceit in an effort to understand his motive for the charade, but I feared doing so would taint the joy borne from our second courtship that in the end had been nothing more than a fairytale, especially when my restored memories made me afraid of investing more of my heart in a relationship that would leave me broken when I inevitably lost it.
“Lisette?” Lucien’s gentle caress against my cheek accompanied my name.
I reluctantly tugged my thoughts away from the painful puzzle and managed a tight smile that felt insincere on my lips. “Forgive me, I was lost in thought.”
“About…what just happened between us?” Crimson tinged his cheeks, a bashfulness I found endearing even as I wondered whether it was another mask in this grand farce. “Did I upset you?”
I couldn’t bear to think of our kiss when so much uncertainty tainted that once magical moment, but I cared for him too much to make him anxious while I worked through this seemingly impossible riddle. “I welcome your affection, which is why I kissed you.” A kiss that even midst my current confusion I was certain he’d returned.
He looked like he wanted to say something more, but I couldn’t bear to continue this particular conversation, even as my resolve to uncover the truth about our current courtship made it so I wasn’t quite ready to part from him despite the heartache and uncertainty brought by his presence.
Yet despite these yearnings, my pain was too powerful a force to resist; it left me vulnerable to the curse that lurked in the shadows, waiting for the moment to lure me deeper into its void of nothingness. The fragile hope I’d managed to cling to even midst the revelation of his deceit suddenly faltered; before I fully realized what was happening, my body lightened beyond my conscious control as the tangibility I’d worked so hard to retrieve began to fade.
Lucien’s eyes bulged in panic. “Lisette!” He seized hold of me, as if desperate to keep me there…but though I’d been previously tangible enough to kiss, the doubt created by his deceit caused his touch to slip through me and he gave a cry of despair. Without the trust that had previously bound us, helping me feel seen by him, he no longer had any hold over me; I felt myself slowly drift further into the invisible world that lay beyond, his entreaties growing fainter as I retreated.
I’m disappearing.
Similar to when I’d first succumbed I felt no fear, not when the vanished land where the curse beckoned me contained more promise than all that I was leaving behind after all the reasons I’d attempted to convince myself to stay had been consumed.
More importantly, the unknown awaiting me on the other side felt far more inviting than remaining in a place where I only knew pain. Retreating had defined my entire life, and this moment would be no exception. With an accepting sigh I allowed the nothingness pressing against me to enfold me in its comforting embrace.