Page 59
Story: The Cursed Crown
"No, daughter. They told me you'll be the bridge between all folk. The wild, the free, the courts. They told me you'd fight for our freedom. And die for it, too."
Nightmares
The blade still in hand, Rissa stared. Did her mother just say she was going to die?
"So, that's your excuse. You saw your kid was going to clock out, and figured you shouldn't bother with it?"
The nightmare was entirely unapologetic. "I sense anger. I can tell it's directed at me. Trust me when I say, you wouldn't have liked being raised by me."
She was certain that this, at least, was the truth.
"Whatever you say. I'll get my friends."
Any excuse to walk away from this…thing.
It dawned on Rissa that she didn't even know her mother's name. Her father had called her Reina, but he'd also explained that was more of a title than a name—whatever nightmare was in charge of their clan was named the reina.
She didn't want to ask her. She didn't want to have anything at all to do with her. If it hadn't been pouring out there, she wouldn't have even considered her offer.
"Hey!" she screamed up to the tree.
Teoran's head popped out of a hammock. Rissa realized that wasn't the one she'd left him in.
"Are you with Khal?"
Teoran giggled.
Giggled.
"We're sharing body heat," he called back cheerfully.
Right. Rissa rolled her eyes. "Get dressed. We have somewhere to stay for the night."
Maybe.
Or maybe they were walking into a trap.
"Here?" Khal yelled from above.
"I'll tell you when you get down."
She waited in defiant silence, playing with the knife in her hand and not looking at the nightmare queen.
Rissa was infuriated to see how much she'd taken after this creature. She didn't look much like her father, so it made sense, but the resemblance was unnerving all the same.
"By the gods!" Teoran said, looking between Rissa and Reina. "Is that—"
"Mother dearest." Her snarl precluded further probing.
Khal, for his part, simply inclined his head in greeting, remaining on his guard.
"Lead the way."
Reina complied without bothering with any more conversation, to Rissa's relief. Every word that woman said set her skin ablaze. The panic and guilt from earlier were entirely gone, replaced by a wall of resentment.
She'd had a good, loving father. Titus could be emotionally and occasionally physically absent, but he'd seen to her needs. She'd been spoiled rotten as a child, given the best education, the best clothing and pretty trinkets. She'd never even paused to think about her mother more than fleetingly. The betrayal and hurt hitting her right now had come out of nowhere, buried deep, at the very core of her psyche.
This was a woman who should have loved her, and didn't. Rissa may not have considered that before, but now that she did, it hurt like a bitch.
Table of Contents
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- Page 59 (Reading here)
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