Page 113 of A Cursed Son

“Of course,” she says in a mocking tone. “It would be horrifying to serve the disgraced king.”

Marlak shakes his head. “I’m pretty sure if you say disgraced king, all of that effort will be in vain.”

She punches him lightly on the arm. “You know what I mean.”

“I do.” His tone is serious again. “Stay safe. Please.”

She nods. “I’m going to ask the same. Be careful out there. And I’ll glamour the carriage. So you won’t be overheard.”

Night is already falling when we walk outside, and I can see the faint glimmer of a few lanterns at a distance, lighting other houses. We’re enveloped in the darkness of the forest and dusk, covered in a sky turning purple, from where a few stars already glimmer.

I don’t dare say anything, knowing we might be watched, knowing we’re about to step into a carriage that serves Marlak’s enemy. Not Krastel’s enemy, though, not Otavio’s enemy. I’m starting to fear that I’ll falter when the time comes to return to my kingdom and turn my back to Marlak. Is it the dreams that are making me confused? Or our reality together?

Horse hooves at a distance bring me back to this moment. I’m reminded that all I can do is keep playing this role. What role? Potentially traitorous hostage-wife? That’s literally what Marlak thinks I am, so it’s not even a role. And yet little by little, I’m learning some of his secrets, but I don’t think I’d ever put Lidiane in danger, for example, and somehow he knows that. There’s a tenuous line of trust connecting us.

The carriage, a simple thing in dark polished wood, pulled by a single horse, stops in front of the house. The coachman is a fae with green skin that’s thick like bark. My understanding had been that high fae were the ones supporting Renel, but I suppose it’s more complicated than that.

“Hey, Sain!” Lidiane greets him in a friendly tone. “These are the two nobles going to the Court of Bees coronation.”

He looks at us up and down. “From which court?”

“Don’t be a busybody,” she says.

I can’t miss the fact that she’s being quite informal with him, as if they were well-known acquaintances or even friends. She’s good at pretending.

“I need to make sure they’re guests,” the coachman explains.

It’s Marlak who replies, “Your dutifulness is appreciated, but unnecessary. Only guests will be allowed to enter.” He turns to Lidiane. “Can you get us another carriage?”

“Oh. Sure!” She manages to look embarrassed.

“No,” the coachman says. “Apologies. Come in. Always an honor to serve fae nobility. Apologies.”

Marlak stares at him, an eyebrow raised in a condescending expression I had never seen him wearing before. “I’ll accept it this time.” He turns to me. “Come.”

Lidiane herself opens the door and we step in. The interior has only one row of seats covered in dark brown leather, so we have to ride side by side.

“Thanks,” Lidiane says while waving her hand.

I wonder if anyone else can notice what she’s doing, if her magic is that obvious to anyone who looks. And then again, maybe it’s normal to seal a carriage carrying nobles so that they won’t be overheard.

The door closes, leaving me alone with Marlak, less than a palm separating us. I can sense that space between us bothering me like a loose pin pricking my skin. I just don’t know if what bothers me is that we’re too close or too far. I don’t know what I think anymore, or what I feel.

I’m hoping this coronation will give me some answers.

We ride in silence for some time, as darkness sets in. Beside me, Marlak is silhouetted against some of the faint moonlight from outside, his glamour already fading.

After a long time, he asks, “Do you want some light?”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Oh. I forgot you don’t really need it.” A note of amusement colors his voice.

He means because sometimes I can produce light? “It doesn’t work like that.”

“We’ll get there soon.” His voice is soft, reassuring, and he places his hand on the seat, beside mine. Then he looks outside. “I don’t sense any trouble.”

That does not reassure me. “How long until we get there?”