Page 4 of Cruelest Kiss and Fairest Blood (Tales So Wicked #2)

Lenore

T he blinding light of day assaults my senses as the curtains in my room are drawn open.

Sunbeams streak across my eyelids, stealing my ability to see.

I don’t know what the hour is, but it’s not nearly late enough for the evening I had.

Even after my return to the inner sanctum of the castle, sleep eluded me.

I stared at the ceiling of my room, my mind replaying the briefest flicker of a memory over and over again.

Hair as bright as moonlight. Eyes like liquid stars.

He was only visible for a moment and then poof . He was gone. I spent most of the night trying to decide if he was ever really there. It wouldn’t be the first strange thing I’ve seen. Maybe he was a ghost.

“Rise and shine, Princess. Yer mother wishes ye to attend breakfast before yer lessons.” Melly disappears into my closet, returning with a simple grey gown. “Move that bony arse or I’ll bring ye not but blueberry jam from now on.” Her speech has always been the most informal type.

“Bleh.” I wrinkle my nose in distaste. There’s something so foul about blueberries.

Like little pillows of mushy, tart torment.

And why aren’t they blue inside? Their yellowish center is as unappealing as eating a worm.

Everything about the fruit is suspicious and repulsive.

“You’d let your princess starve?” I tease, folding my arms.

“I’d do what I must to get ye out of this bed and off to yer daily duties, ye right spoiled git.

” Melly has always been my favorite company to keep.

We’re the same age. We even managed to organize a small, conjoined party for our twenty-second birthdays last month.

She’s one of the only people who speaks to me as if I’m not some porcelain royalty.

I grin. “If my brutish handmaiden insists.” The gown hits me straight in the face, knocking me back onto the pillows. “Melly!” My gasp of shock brings a wicked smile to her face.

“Brutish, am I?” Her smile widens, tugging at the many burn scars that dominate the left side of her round face.

Melly and I have much in common, but our early lives could not have been more different. My parents spotted her while riding through a nearby village. She’d been badly burned by a town drunkard after she’d denied his advances.

Roseheart is a kingdom ruled by beauty. Everything about you and your status is determined by your looks.

For someone like Melly, with a burned and disfigured face, options were limited, if not nonexistent.

She’d have ended up masked in a brothel, living out her days in misery.

Thankfully, my mother possesses the ability to see beyond physical beauty.

It’s ironic. Queen Elowynne is known to be the most lovely woman from here to the Roviana Sea.

Well, I suppose the praise for her beauty has quieted in recent years.

The day I turned eighteen, those same comments passed to me overnight.

But I do not possess the gentle spirit and endless kindness that my mother dons each day as easily as she dons her crown.

Her beauty is as true on the inside as it is on the outside.

She brought Melly back to the castle and introduced her to a whole new life.

That was thirteen years ago. We’ve been best friends ever since.

“Now tell me, why do ye look so knackered?” Melly asks as she laces up my dress.

I tug at the itchy, intricate lace that covers my neck and presses up against my chin, unwilling to accept that fanciful collars will be a part of my wardrobe for the foreseeable future.

Melly notices my discomfort. “Ye could have ’em remove the collars. Maybe if people saw what’s underneath?—”

“No. Leave it.” I push away an unwanted memory attempting to wriggle to the surface.

Melly nods. She’s the only person who sees me without my collars. The only one aside from my parents who have seen what lies beneath. Understanding my unspoken feelings, she drops the subject. Her fingers move to my hair. “As ye wish. Now, why are there dark circles beneath those royal eyes?”

I debate telling her about the mysterious man in the garden.

Well, a stunning, handsome stranger was watching me when I snuck out to the garden last night…

I tried to call out to him, but he vanished like a ghost .

Something tightens in my gut and the words slide back down my throat before I can speak them. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“There.” She finishes adding a few sprigs of baby’s breath to my braid. “Now off ye go.”

“Don’t I even get a cup of tea before I’m forced to take up my daily duties?” I chime indignantly.

“You’ll be taking tea with the queen. Apparently, she’s ’ad all yer favorites made.” Melly shoots me a look out of the corner of her eye. She knows as well as I that my mother only treats me to these elaborate breakfasts when she’s trying to soften bad news.

I blow out a breath of defeat, disturbing a piece of white hair that’s already slipped loose from its bindings. “Very well. I’ll snag you something yummy.”

“Don’t come back without something dripping in honey!” she calls after me. “And one’a those wee pink flowery cakes!”

“Of course, I always do.”

“Aye, ye do.” Melly smiles, and I do my best to return it, though it falls flat as I head toward what feels like doom.

My stomach tightens at the uncertainty of what my mother will have to say.

But I’m in no place to argue with whatever she asks of me.

It’s my duty to adhere to the rules of our court.

Payment for the years of this lavish, royal life I’ve led.

Not that the reminder quells my anxiety any.

We shall see what Mother says. It’s off to my destiny, and something tells me I’ll need the extra sweets to help swallow whatever is in store for me.

Snow batters the glass roof of the greenhouse, trying and failing to steal breath from the warm air that maintains this room’s year-round summer feeling.

Frost creeps along the edges of the panels, each newly formed crystal clinging to the last, building on itself until an intricate design has taken shape along the firm glossy surface.

I’ve always found such beauty in ice. I stop at the nearest wall, placing a palm against the glass.

The chill of the smooth surface spreads across my palm.

I do worry for my animal friends when the weather turns cold.

“There’s my beautiful daughter.” My mother rounds a large mimosa tree, looking as elegant as ever in her ivory gown.

Every auburn hair is neatly in place, plaited to perfection beneath her ruby and pearl crown.

Such warmth radiates from her smile. She has the ability to make you feel so whole, so seen. “You look tired, my dear.”

The table is laden with so many different dishes that there is hardly enough room for our cups and saucers. The news must be even worse than I thought.

“Alas, I have recently become a vampire,” I hiss dramatically, shielding my eyes. “Which means whatever bad news you’re about to deliver would be better given to someone still among the living.”

Her delicate, diamond-covered hand reaches toward me in invitation. I take it, allowing her to pull me to the small tea nook nestled beneath a topiary of lush, purple Browallia blossoms. “And do vampires still favor lavender tea?”

I sigh, sitting. “Indeed. Lavender tea is a favorite of the living and the undead alike.”

She smiles. I’m lucky to have a mother who finds my strangeness endearing instead of off-putting.

My mother pours our tea, adding two sugar cubes and a splash of cream to mine.

Breathing deeply, I inhale the fragrant lavender scent.

This is my favorite tea. It’s made from lavender grown here in our gardens.

“Thank you.” I toy with the small teacup handle.

I’ve always thought this was an unusual place for her to ponder her daily contemplations.

This particular greenhouse panel is far larger than the others, with a perfectly framed view of the one place the entire kingdom is banned from entering.

The dark forest . Its unusual, foreboding energy can be felt even from this great distance.

As children, we’re all taught about the tragedy of the dark forest and the day of its making. I still remember when my mother shared the story with me. I was told the tale while sitting in this very spot.

“Legend says there was a young maiden, a servant girl who worked here in the castle. Blinded by greed and a desire to rise above her station, she made a deal with a demon. He granted her more power and beauty than she had dreamed possible. She became queen, and was said to be so beautiful that the townspeople turned their eyes to the ground so as to avoid heaven’s wrath for looking upon an angel.

“But as it is with all magic, the spell had a price. A dark, malevolent energy spread within her, twisting her powers and bringing death to everything she touched. In a moment of fear and regret, the new queen ran to the lively green forest at the edge of the castle grounds.

“There, she attempted to rid herself of the darkness raging within by channeling it into the earth. But what happened that day planted an evil so unspeakably horrific that it changed the landscape of Roseheart forever. Trees turned black. Animals vanished overnight. The dark forest was born and remains standing to this day.”

“And what of the queen?” As a child, I’d been more interested in the terrifying tales of the forest itself. As an adult, I find myself thinking more about the woman who created it all.

“She was never seen again. Some say she perished. Consumed by the very darkness she tried so hard to break free from. All that’s left from her short reign in Roseheart is the forest.” Her gaze turned to the window that perfectly frames the shadowy tree line.

I sip my tea, staring out into the scarred land.