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“A curse to fight the Gulgot. To protect the Vale. But the Gulgot wasn’t stopping, and more darkness escapes the Break every day. You know this.”

“Yes,” Orelia whispered.

Celestyna pushed on, before the fear cresting inside her could break. She told Orelia everything the Fetterwitch had told her—and more too.

“Mama and Papa were dying,” Celestyna said. “They asked me to help them. They were in so much pain.” She closed her eyes, tense rods of grief spanning her chest. “So I did what theyasked. I’d known for a few years, since they told me about the curse. I knew I’d have to do it eventually. If they’d died on their own, the curse would have given out with them. The Gulgot would have escaped, and the Vale would have been lost. It had to be me, and I knew it would be.”

Celestyna’s voice was a hoarse whisper. “I’d just hoped I would be an old woman, when the moment came. Not a girl.”

Orelia’s voice was so soft it frightened Celestyna. “You killed them.”

“They begged me to. They told me...” With each breath, Celestyna’s throat tightened. “They told me it was all right, that they trusted me to take the throne. That I would be the one to save the Vale.”

“Mender of the Break,” Orelia said.

Celestyna choked out a laugh. “Some mender I’ve turned out to be.”

“But why does your skin look so sick?” Orelia’s fingers traced the dark veiny lines on Celestyna’s cheeks—fat and black under her ashen skin. “Mama and Papa never looked like this, not even at the end.”

“I thought, if the Fetterwitch was gone, if I controlled the curse all on my own, that I could make this end.”

“Tyna.” Orelia’s voice was mournful. “You killed her too?”

Celestyna could no longer bear the soft touch of her sister’s hands. She tried to crawl away, but she didn’t have the strength for it.

The curse heaved up against her bones, spitting and boiling.Who cares what your sister thinks? She’s weak. You’re strong.

“Yes, I killed the Fetterwitch,” Celestyna whispered harshly. “I’m sorry. I thought it would help. I thought I could save us.”

Orelia said nothing for a long time. “What happens now?”

“I don’t know.” Celestyna shook her head. “I don’t know anything anymore.”

Orelia gently moved Celestyna’s head off her lap. Celestyna watched her go, a lump in her throat that the curse viciously told her to ignore.

Would Orelia leave? Would Orelia banish her? Or maybe Orelia would kill her, now that she knew the truth. Celestyna grew suddenly very still, holding her breath. Maybe this was the end.

But Orelia simply retrieved the rumpled patchwork quilt from her bed. She came back to Celestyna, curled up on the floor beside her, and draped the quilt over both of them.

“I remember when you got these,” said Orelia, stroking thetwo bright red curls that lay against Celestyna’s cheek. “It was the day after Mama and Papa died.”

“I’ve tried to cut them out,” Celestyna whispered. “They always come back.”

Orelia kissed the smooth red coils. “What did Mama always say?”

“Don’t be too nice.”

“Don’t yell too loudly.”

“Don’t dress too much like a girlie girl.”

“Don’t dress too much like a man.” Orelia dipped her voice low, like their mother’s. “Those boots! Disgusting. You look like a common boy in the streets. Ladies don’t wear laces.”

Celestyna laughed. “Don’t cry. Not ever. Not even in private. You never know who could be watching. You never know when the door could open.” She closed her eyes, remembering her mother’s voice. “Don’t cry. Don’t cry.”

“I loved Mama,” Orelia said thoughtfully, after such a long time that Celestyna thought she had fallen asleep. The windows shook in their panes as the Break widened and the Gulgot climbed and its darkness flooded the world. Bottles of perfume and bowls of glittering beads trembled on the glass top of Orelia’s dresser.

“But I don’t think she was right about everything,” said Orelia, her voice unsteady. “I think it’s all right to cry. In fact, I think it’s good to cry. Even if you’re a queen. Especially when you’re a queen.”