Page 22 of Heirs of the Cursed (A Curse for Two Souls #1)

21

Dawnfall

Dreams were a precious gift, one Darcia rarely experienced. When she did, she wrote them down in the old pages of her nearest book, to remind herself that even doomed souls could cherish beauty amidst their struggles.

But she was now back in the reality she was forced to live in. She’d returned to the cabin, to her father, to her work, to her girlfriend . . .

To her stepbrother.

The cold embraced her as Darcia leaned her back against the wall. Her reality was cruel, yet she feared the world’s light would flicker out forever if the Dark Twins weren’t stopped once and for all. Laivalon would only be safe when Ro’i Rājya fell for good.

The birds chirped in the trees beside her tiny window, announcing the awakening of the day, but there was no thief resting on the wooden frame. Alasdair was gone. Before she could process her feelings about it, someone knocked subtly on the door.

“Come in,” Darcia said, her voice slightly hoarse and sleepy.

Her father walked in with a tray in his hands and an affable expression plastered on his face. A familiar warmth spread through Darcia’s body as she smiled back.

“Good morning, Father.”

Gion sat on the edge of the mattress and rested the tray on his daughter’s legs. Her stomach roared at the sight of the bowl of berries, the two slices of bread with jam, and the orange juice sloshing back and forth.

“How’s your head, little one?”

She let out a snort. “I’m sorry. I should have warned you I’d be late.”

He waved a hand in the air, dismissing it as unimportant, but she could see the worry in the lines that furrowed his eyes. The sunlight illuminated the silver in his gray hair and the wrinkles that had begun to mark his face with the passage of time.

Darcia hadn’t realized until now how much older Gion looked. She’d become so accustomed to her father’s presence that she hadn’t stopped to think what would happen when he was gone—what would happen to her. Oblivious to her life before the age of four, she had no real family besides Gion Voreia, the man who loved her as his own child and who wasn’t afraid of her for the magic that ran through her veins.

“If you had a pleasant time, I’m happy.” He snatched some fruit from the bowl. “I must say, I’ve excelled myself with your breakfast.”

“For the looks of it, I think Sadira’s mother would applaud you.”

“Or drown me with her water powers to wipe out the competition.”

Darcia laughed heartily before feeling a strange nervousness entwine with her insides.

“I was wondering if you had a minute to talk to your old father,” he asked.

“I always have time for you.”

Gion took his daughter’s hands in his, caressing them tenderly. “You have been with me since you were a child, the greatest blessing the goddesses have bestowed on me.” He caressed her face lovingly, his own features contorting with repressed emotions. “When I found you, my life changed completely.”

“Father . . .”

“You’re my greatest pride, Darcia. From the first moment those eyes met mine, they promised to be with me. Despite all my mistakes and everything you’ve had to endure, I hope you know that there is nothing in this world that I wouldn’t do for you.”

“I know,” she said. “I know, and I understand.”

Her father offered her the ghost of a sad smile. One that conveyed an apology and something else entirely as he said, “I would love for things to be different, but I think it’s time we are honest to one another.”

Blink.

Heartbeat.

“What do you mean?”

“Dawnfall is no longer safe for you. The arrival of the Royal Army is proof of that,” Gion explained with weary eyes. “It’s only a matter of time before violence is unleashed on the city in search of the princesses. Goddesses forgive me, but I don’t want you to be a victim of their rampage.”

“Father . . .” she tried again.

“You can’t stay here any longer, my child. Not when your life hangs in the balance.”

Darcia swallowed nervously. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

She did understand, but she didn’t want to. Because her father was urging her to leave, to abandon him, when doing so could put his life in danger . . . When Conrad figured out what she’d done, there would be no one left to protect their father from him.

I can withstand every blow, every threat , she wanted to say.

Gion pulled a bag from his jacket and placed it in front of her, motioning for her to open it. She watched it with puzzled eyes as her hands descended to the strings that guarded its contents. A gasp of surprise escaped Darcia’s half-opened lips at the shimmering gold vramnias that laid inside. Two hundred coins that rattled her heart at the opportunity it offered.

Her freedom.

“It’s enough money to pay for a horse and go somewhere safe. You can leave with Caeli, if that’s what your heart dictates,” her father offered. “You have three weeks to arrange everything. Three weeks and your life will be yours to live it to the fullest.”

Bitter tears overwhelmed her eyes and fear paralyzed every muscle in her body. “No, I won’t do it.” She shook her head repeatedly. “I can’t leave you here.”

“Darcie,” he called out to her and took her face in his hands. “Enough.”

“No, I’m not leaving you.” Darcia sobbed. “You’re the only family I have.”

“Listen to me. It wouldn’t be forever. You could find a home, do something you truly enjoy . . . Perhaps study at one of the dryadalis academies you were so mesmerized about as a child, beyond Mubarak Forest. You could marry Caeli,” her father told her with joy. “I’d come find you after taking care of Conrad. He can make a life for himself in other ways.”

“I don’t want him to make a life for himself some other way, because that would mean other people would have to pay the price for my freedom,” she said. “Innocent people. I wouldn’t be able to run away and be happy knowing that.”

Gion shook his head. “I don’t know who you get it from.”

“You, of course,” she whispered with a gentle smile on her face. “You raised me right.”

“Lisabetta would have loved you very much.”

Gion’s wife and Conrad’s mother.

The woman who had died giving birth to her child and who had preferred to stop breathing rather than to lose her only son. Gion spoke little of her, but the times he did, affection shone in his eyes, accompanied by the eternal pain that came with the loss of the love of his life.

Darcia thought that the complicated childbirth had been an unfair fate sentenced by the goddesses. That Gion was a good man and that, though she hated her stepbrother with all her heart, Lisabetta had been a most courageous woman.

A part of her had always wanted to meet her. Perhaps, if she were alive, Gion would still be an alchemist. Maybe Conrad would have a heart . . . And Darcia would know a mother’s love.

“I would have loved her with all my heart, too.”

“Think about it, yes? The money is yours, you just have to be brave enough to fight for your happiness.”

Darcia wanted to be. She wanted to see the world beyond the cage in which Conrad had imprisoned her, taste the delicacies of the different cities and bathe on the beaches of Bellmare. She wished to marry Caeli, to move somewhere her past wouldn’t haunt her, where she could make her own decisions.

Where she could be free.

The one thing Darcia longed for more strongly than anything else.

When she found her father’s gray eyes watching her with an unspoken plea, she understood that she had to listen to him—or at least promise him that she would try.

“I’ll think about it.”

“I’m satisfied with that answer. Oh, and we’ve been invited to the mayor’s masquerade ball tonight. You’ll find a surprise downstairs that I hope you like. You know I’m a disaster with these things . . .”

Darcia kissed his cheek and hugged him before uttering the three words she found so hard to say aloud. Words she didn’t say lightly, words that meant a great deal to her and her heart.

“I love you, Father.”

“I love you too, ahm siera.”

My moon.

His child. His daughter.

They chatted for an hour as they ate breakfast, laughing at his jokes. Before Gion walked downstairs to get ready, he left a soft kiss on her forehead, a gesture of affection she’d loved since she was a little girl.

Once she was alone, she stared at the gold vramnias lying in her lap. An opportunity, a way out. Yet the decision that rested upon her shoulders wasn’t an easy one.

Luckily, she had all the time in the world to make it.

Darcia’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she stared at her reflection in the oval mirror. The dress Gion had bought for her was so beautiful she didn’t feel worthy of wearing it.

Composed of the same brilliant colors as the aurora borealis—a sweet emerald green, a delicate purple, and a dark shade of pink—, its gauze was soft, and the heart-shaped corset highlighted her breasts. From the top of the garment, a cloth covered both arms from her elbows to her wrists, its silver-edged fabric sparkling like pearls. While the chest and waist were cinched tightly, the skirt of the dress fell loosely to the floor.

The moon-shaped pendant rested between her breasts and her long golden hair fell in waves over her shoulders, hiding her slightly uncovered back and softening the features of her face. The silver mask waiting on the dressing table sent a shiver down her spine.

“Gorgeous.”

Darcia jumped, taking a few steps back until she slammed into the dressing table. Her hands tightened on the ash wood rim as she turned her gaze to scan her bedroom.

“What in the Akhirat are you doing here?”

Alasdair jumped from the window frame and entered the room. His face remained concealed, showing the intensity of his green eyes. Black clothes covered his body and the only thing that shone under the moonlight was the belt with small knives and picks.

He slipped his gloved hands into his pants pockets. “I wanted to stop by to make sure you were feeling better. I had a . . . thing to attend to this morning.”

Darcia did her best to hide her emotions. He’d stayed with her, probably until the first rays of the sun rose in the horizon. Still, she cursed herself inwardly for having hoped to find him upon waking up.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Now that my mind isn’t spinning and I know what I’m saying . . . Thank you for taking care of me last night.”

Alasdair offered her a subtle nod and paced around the room. “Will you be at the party tonight?”

“Why are you asking?”

“Can’t it be simple curiosity?”

Darcia lifted her chin proudly. “I have a girlfriend.”

“That beautiful woman for whom your eyes sparkle when you look at her?” Alasdair shrugged. “I know, I’ve seen her.”

“You have?”

Alasdair took a step toward her but kept his distance, as if he knew she wasn’t comfortable with people invading her personal space. A violent tug jerked at Darcia’s chest, and her heart skipped a beat.

“I see more things than you think, gorgeous.”

Darcia folded her arms as she said, “I might have misread things.”

“Oh, don’t be confused. In an ordinary situation, I would fight any man or woman for a taste of your lips,” Alasdair admitted, with not even a hint of doubt nor shame. “But that’s not the case, because you and I are not ordinary people.”

No, they weren’t. She was a circus illusionist imprisoned by invisible chains and he was a renowned thief who didn’t care about the world or the consequences of his actions. Two completely different people who shared the same destiny: oblivion.

“Why are you here, then?”

“I might have wanted to ask you to accompany me to the ball, but it would be awkward considering you don’t trust me.”

“That’s because the first time we met was . . . odd.”

“I don’t understand why you say that.”

“You were stealing from my girlfriend’s store!” she emphasized with a reprimanding look.

“You’re right, maybe it wasn’t the most conventional meeting. But I saved your life.”

“And threatened to cut my throat.”

“You threw a dagger at me too” Alasdair raised a hand to his chest. “You could have hurt me very badly.”

“That was the whole point,” she smirked.

“It's fortunate that I have good reflexes, then.”

A laugh burst out of Darcia’s mouth. A hearty, real laugh—one that she hadn’t heard in a long time. When she focused her attention back on Alasdair, she found him staring at her as if he saw beyond the prim beauty of her face, as if he could see in her all that the world had tried to take from her.

“I just wanted to make sure you were all right. You were in bad shape yesterday.”

Darcia raised her eyebrows in surprise. “The Midnight Thief . . . worried about someone?”

“I may have grown fond of you,” Alasdair confessed.

“You don’t know me well enough for that.”

“I don’t need to.”

Darcia frowned with slight distrust. Yes, he’d helped her, but nothing would make her forget that Alasdair was a criminal.

“I don’t trust faceless people,” she admitted, clasping her hands behind her back.

Alasdair, to her surprise, laughed. “A face means nothing, nor does a name.”

“And yet you cover it up. If you want to earn my trust, you’ll show me your face right now,” Darcia said firmly.

His response reached her ears in a drowned out way.

When she was about to ask him what he had just said, a sudden pain in her chest made Darcia brace her feet firmly on the floor. Dizziness washed over her as every part of her body began to tremble erratically. She repressed the need to raise her hand toward her throat at the lack of the air in her lungs, and the threads of her mind began to churn aggressively, tugging at her to guide her forward.

Toward Alasdair.

No , she commanded herself.

She couldn’t let her powers hurt anyone else. She couldn’t allow herself to lose control . . . Darcia clenched her hands into fists until her chest began to shrink.

“You need to leave right now,” Darcia told him, pushing him toward the window.

“Why?” he asked.

Another painful twinge.

Her breathing became erratic.

“Darcia,” Alasdair called to her, and the ground seemed to wobble beneath her feet.

Trapped like a child in a cage of her own magic, she felt unable to handle it, subjected to it. Darcia wasn’t going to let it consume her, she wasn’t going to let herself loose. She couldn’t.

“Please, leave,” she implored him. “Please . . .”

Yet Alasdair kept his gaze on her boreal eyes, trying to figure out what was happening and determined to stay until she was all right. She shook her head, urging him to leave with her shaking hands.

Thief, criminal, heartless man . . .

He was still a dryad.

A person .

Even if no one mourned his death, Darcia would remember his name forever, and she’d never be able to forgive herself for her magic’s outburst.

At the silent plea written on her face, Alasdair jumped out the window before her power slipped through her fingers and disappeared into the night.

Darcia closed her eyes to let herself fall into the darkness that was trying to swallow her. Unsettling, intimidating . . . And only when she surrendered, did the throbbing of her dark magic soothe within her. Claiming her, and reminding her that, despite having learnt to use her magic for beautiful circus tricks, it was still not hers to master.