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Amelie settled back into the lounge and watched him leave, her heart full. Did she even care if the curse never broke? She could happily stay here in the castle with him forever, as long as they were both safe.

But of course, that was unrealistic. They could not flourish under a shroud of dark sorcery. She wished greatly for Davron and the province to be relieved of the curse.

The sun warmed her face through the window and she considered what the future might hold. Would she commit to staying at Castle Grange, come what may? She did miss her family. And as much as she loved reading and hearing about faraway places, she wanted to visit them herself.

How could she leave Davron, though? More and more, she felt she could not bear it. He had taken her by surprise when he stated so plainly that he wanted to marry her. She wished she had reacted more warmly to him.

In truth, she wanted to marry Davron. She could not imagine marrying anyone else, nor living without him now. But she had not reckoned on him mentioning marriage so soon, and with such dire obstacles in the way. Unless the curse was broken, Levissina’s wrath would rule their actions for as long as they lived.

The only solution, as ever, was to defeat the Dark One.

When a clock chimed in the hallway and Davron still had not returned, Amelie decided to find him. She had the book she came for, anyway. With the tome tucked under her arm, she padded out of the library into the hall, trusting the candles to guide her to him.

The candles did light up, but they only seemed to lead her back to the library. She ignored them, figuring she’d find him soon enough. At a walkway passing over a gallery, she stopped in sudden confusion.

An unfamiliar man stood in the middle of the walkway.

She blinked in shock. Somewhat absurdly, her first thought was that she had never seen anyone except Davron within the castle walls. The man seemed so out of place—so out of context—that her mind took several seconds to process what she saw.

He was rangy and tanned, dressed in coveralls, with weather-worn skin and a bald head. He was surprised to come across Amelie too, but he recovered more quickly than she did. His face broke into a wide smile, showing gapped yellow teeth, his hand feeling for the knife handle on his belt.

“Hello, my pretty. Thought I’d have to look harder than that,” he said to her before shouting over his shoulder. “She’s up here!”

A scuffle broke out below in the alcoves surrounding the gallery.

Davron’s voice roared, echoing through the castle.

“Amelie, RUN!”

CHAPTER 23

Alarm flooded Amelie’s bloodstream, spurring her into action.

Indiscriminately, she flung the book from her hand and turned on her heel. She pelted into the corridor on her left, the man bolting after her. Without thinking, she plunged her hand into her dress for her silver rose, only to find her pocket empty.

Her panicked mind struggled to remember the last time she saw the weapon.

It had been last night, when she’d awoken to hear Davron playing the piano. She had left it under the pillow of his bed. That morning, she had been so elated that she’d neglected to take it with her to the library.

She needed to get to Davron’s chambers, and fast. Without the magical sword, she’d never win a fight against an armed man.

“Come here, girlie!” he shouted after her. “Quit making me run for my sweets!”

His voice was full of mocking, like he was enjoying himself—like they were playing a fun game. His tone spiked Amelie’s blood with anger, and she vowed she would do anything to escape his clutches.

The candles on the walls ignited at speed to keep up with her, extinguishing the moment she’d passed them. She knew the way to Davron’s bedroom by heart, which was an advantage over her pursuer.

Once Amelie rounded another two corners, she was out of his sight, but only barely. He was seconds behind her.

Just before she entered the foyer to the eastern wing, where Davron’s room was, disaster struck. Two armed men stood in the middle of the vestibule, bickering between themselves, their heads together. She managed to skid to a stop before they spotted her, but now the fastest route to her sword was blocked. Left with no choice, she turned around and fled down a different corridor, her bare feet light and silent on the hall runner rugs.

As she flew down the hallway, she passed dangerously close to the man chasing her, catching him by surprise. It was only by his slightly delayed reaction that she escaped his grasp. But he barreled after her, now closer than ever. His boots thundered behind her and his breath came out in sharp rasps.

The fact that he did not call for backup, when other men were in the castle, disconcerted her rather than reassured her. It meant he wanted her all to himself when he caught her.

Where was Davron? She could no longer hear him and she prayed he was alright. What did these men want from them? They were raiders, surely. Did they seek to imprison Davron and Amelie while they plundered the castle? A sick feeling in her gut told her that she and Davron would not be that lucky, if the men had their way.

The castle had to have an armory, but she didn’t know where. The only weapons she knew of were down in the blacksmith forge in the sheds. To get there, she’d have to run right through the middle of the castle. She’d never make it.