Page 14

14

Reyla

M y flow and the cursed pain that came with it had finally left, and I felt ready to emerge from my suite and take on whatever challenge the castle and its inhabitants might offer. It was time to do some solid investigation into the curse as well.

If only I knew where to start.

As he left my suite, Merrick gave me a sweet kiss and a stroke of his fingers across my cheek, stepping out into the hall.

Faelith passed him and took Farris to run around outside and do his nyxin business, while Moira shut the door behind her.

She and Calista followed me into the bedroom, where Calista stood at my closet, tutting as she scraped the hangers across the bar. “What color would you like to wear today, my queen?”

“Something pretty for the king to admire.” Moira gave me a sweet smile. “Though I imagine he finds you pretty when you’re wearing almost anything.”

Calista huffed and actually scowled, though she smoothed it quickly.

By the time I’d stepped out of the bath and dried my body, steam clung to the air and a subtle perfume lingered on my skin. Calista waited with the gown draped over her arm. I recognized it from the ship, the one with a split skirt made for both ease of movement and elegance.

“Perfect,” I said, and Calista beamed, her mood restored. Her fingers brushed my shoulders as she adjusted the fit. She only paused when I reached for my belts and strapped my blades around my waist. Her pinched expression was a whisper rather than a shout, but I caught it nonetheless. Ignoring her was easier than explaining why I’d never stop arming myself, not even while I wore a crown.

“Your hair?” Moira asked from nearby, holding up a handful of pins.

“Keep it simple. Maybe a braid?”

Calista huffed and spun to go through the jewelry.

Moira frowned her way. “As you wish, my queen.”

Once my hair had been arranged and the tiara Calista selected was secured in place, I rose from my chair and turned, spying Ember’s Shadow lying on the newly made bed.

Had one of them found it while straightening the blankets or…

“Could you both leave for a few moments?” I asked. “I need a bit of time alone.” I started toward the bathing area as if I had an overwhelming urge to sit for a while.

“Of course.” Moira tugged on her mother’s sleeve and after shooting me an odd look, Calista went with her daughter, the two women walking out into the sitting area, closing the door behind them .

Pivoting back, I dropped down onto the bed and lifted Ember’s Shadow onto my lap. I’d periodically tugged it out from beneath the mattress to see if it had anything to say, but it hadn’t so far. But if it was making itself known… Well, my heart was thrumming much too fast in my chest.

Please, please, please, give me a hint into the curse.

After peeling back the cover, I started flipping through the blank pages, my frustration growing with each one. Maybe it hadn’t inserted itself into my morning. Moira might’ve found it beneath the mattress and placed it on the bed.

Except, I found something near the end.

Words scrolled across the page as I read them aloud.

Beneath the crescent’s trembling glow,

Where rivers twist, and shadows flow,

A pledge of twin-born hearts was cast,

Weaving a bond too vast to grasp.

The elder scales, the crown’s first claim,

Together bled, bound flame to name.

Through kin of sky and earth combined,

A kingdom renewed. A fate aligned.

With hearts betrayed by fractured trust,

What once was whole, now turns to dust.

The path unclear, yet calls to dare,

A chosen bond will lead you there .

What did that mean? I grabbed the paper and pen I’d magicked with Lord Briscalar’s guidance and asked the pen to write the poem down. I was grateful I had a way to preserve this riddle, because as soon as my pen stopped scribbling, the words disappeared from Ember’s Shadow . I flipped through the book again but only found blank pages.

After tucking it and the pad of paper into a box on an upper shelf in my closet, I returned to the bed and leaned back against the headboard, thinking about the riddle.

“A pledge of twin-born hearts was cast,” I whispered. “Weaving a bond too vast to grasp. Could that refer to Lorant and Merrick? Twin-born hearts. They’ve woven a bond too vast to grasp. Maybe.” I frowned. “I wonder if any of the others worked in unison with their other half or if they were at odds, each struggling to take full control. Did they even realize they were once one and split?”

I tapped my chin, thinking about the middle verse, but I couldn’t see how it applied unless I could call Merrick earth and Lorant sky or vice versa. But that didn’t feel right. And what about elder scales? As far as I knew, the elders were all fae.

“With hearts betrayed by fractured trust. What once was whole, now turns to dust.” That could refer to the trust I struggled to find for them both, something I may have given back too easily. But how could I do anything less?

“Turns to dust” seemed clear. They were going to die if we didn’t break the curse.

“And the last?” Frowning, I stared at the wall, not truly seeing it. “The path truly is unclear. I don’t know what to do or even where to look for the information I need to end this. “Calls to dare suggests bravery, of course.”

Wasn’t that just like the fates? Winning always took sacrifice.

I would sacrifice everything to heal them .

But how? Plunging myself on a sword wasn’t going to fix this. I needed to be strategic. Careful. And quick because time was being sucked away. I’d wasted days already, wallowing in pain in my room, though I doubted I would’ve been much use even if I’d forced myself to rise and look for clues.

“A chosen bond will lead you there.” I held up my arm and let the red-stone bracelet slide down my wrist, revealing the mating mark I kept hidden. Was this the bond the riddle spoke of? If so, it should lead me…there. Wherever “there” was.

My sigh of frustration rang out.

The riddle may not even relate to the curse and my husband. If not them, then what?

Hearing my ladies moving about in the next room, I slid off the bed and joined them. The outer door opened, and Faelith entered with Farris bounding ahead of her, his fur damp but his enthusiasm as bright as ever. He skipped over and dropped his favorite ball at my feet.

“You’d think he’d want something new to play with,” I said, crouching to pick it up and toss it across the room.

Faelith leaned against the wall, her smile warm and easy. “He adores it more than anything. I tried a stick earlier, but he kept sniffing around for his ball like it was the only treasure that mattered.”

We left Farris in the suite and walked toward the throne room in our usual formation. Faelith strode at my side, Calista took the lead with two of my guards, and Moira walked quietly behind me. Surren and the other guards flanked us with sharp gazes and magic coiling around their fingers.

We descended the stairs to the first floor.

“I’d like to visit the kitchen first.” I turned that way.

Inside, the heady scent of roasting meats mixed with the sharper tang of spices. The kitchen was controlled disarray, with pots steaming and knives flashing as staff moved seamlessly between the counters and the stoves. The head chef, dressed in starched white, caught sight of me, and his thick brows shot up.

“My queen,” Dulvade gushed. “What an unexpected pleasure.”

“First, I wanted to thank you all for the amazing dishes you prepared not only for the meal after my coronation but for the expansive spread you crafted for the masked ball.”

“It was nothing.” His face blazed with color that didn't only come from the heat of the room, and he dipped forward in a smooth bow. As he rose, his gaze shifted to Moira, whose face suddenly darkened to match his own. “Just a few dishes that I gave my own special touch to.”

“It was wonderful. I don't believe I've ever tasted better, not at Lydel Court or Bledmire.” Since I was a servant at the latter, and we didn't eat with the high lords or ladies, this was certainly true. Lydel was another world altogether, though my friend had only recently gotten her court in order.

Dulvade’s eyes sparkled. “It's always a joy to craft meals and light repasts for those who appreciate the subtle flavors I imbue in each dish.”

“I imagine it is.”

As I spoke with him, a small chall caught my eye, its pure white fur glinting in the warm kitchen light as it darted between the legs of the bustling staff. The creature moved with an almost ethereal grace, weaving its way through the room without so much as a pause. It halted near an extensive spice rack mounted to the wall, its bright gaze fixated on a pot simmering on the stove.

The chall meandered closer to Moira, rubbing against her leg, purring so loudly that it drew Calista's attention. She scowled at the beast and stepped between them.

Moira’s expression flickered with unease, but she forced a smile. “I never liked challs.” A shiver tracked through her. “Not sure why.” Her gaze met her mother's. “Remember that time one attacked me when I was small?” Tugging up her sleeve, she showed the faint white scar etching across her forearm. “It did this to me and it took ages for it to heal.”

“Challs can be unpredictable,” Calista said.

With a snarl, the tiny creature leaped right at me.

I yelped and backed away, stumbling over something on the floor at the same time a member of the kitchen staff was carrying a pot of boiling soup or broth to the counter.

We jarred together. The pot went flying up then down even faster, smacking against the floor beside me, its contents spraying?—

A snap of Dulvade’s hand, and the piping hot broth froze mid-air. With a flick of his finger, he sent it all to the sink, where it slithered down the drain.

“My queen,” he cried. “Are you unhurt?”

“I’m fine.” I swallowed but the fear lodged there didn’t want to go down.

The chall hissed and raced toward the door to the hall, but Dulvade snatched it up from the floor, pinning it beneath his arm. “Time for this beast to leave.” He handed it to one of the staff. “Take it far from the castle,” he barked, scowling at the creature. “Far enough away it can’t make its way back to this location.”

The woman nodded and pinned the small creature’s legs, carrying it out through the back door, the panel banging closed behind her.

“I’m terribly sorry,” Dulvade said, his concerned gaze returning to me. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

I stared toward the door. “Yes. I am. Thank you. I’d be burned if you hadn’t used magic.”

“Essence weaving,” he said. “That’s my skill, and I’m grateful for it almost every day of the week. It’s quite helpful when I’d like to enhance a flavor or preserve something. When I knew that was my ability, I also knew exactly how I wanted to use it. Here, of course.”

“It’s a wonderful skill.”

He beamed, though his eyes held shadows as they darted to the door where the woman had taken the chall. “I’ve indulged the aerie’s pests long enough, it seems. I won’t allow another inside my kitchen.”

“A wise decision.” This had been an accident, right?

While I’d be foolish not to see danger in everything around me, the sentinel veil was in place. If the chall was somehow sent by the wizard, we would’ve had warning. Besides, what good would burning me do?

Oh, yes. If the wizard didn’t want the curse broken, they only needed to slow my progress, not necessarily kill me, though I suspected they’d happily do that as well if the fates allowed. But the veil…

Now Moira wasn’t the only one shivering.

I pressed for a smile, pretending the incident was over. “I don't want to keep you for long,” I told Dulvade. “I also stopped in to ask if I could make horig cakes tomorrow? I'd like to share them with the king.” Among others.

Why in the world had I decided to do this?

His grin widened, his large hands planting on his hips. “Of course! How could I say no? Tomorrow it is.”

“Thank you. I’ll stay out of your way, I promise.”

“You’ll stay anywhere but out of the way, and we'll make them together.” Dulvade’s laugh rolled through the kitchen, his cheery mood restored. “I’ve been dying to make your recipe.”

“Perfect then. Is any time better for you than another?”

He paused, his brow narrowing in thought, before it cleared. “After the lunch meal is out of the way? I’ll leave the dinner preparation to my staff, though under my strict guidance, and free that part of the day for you.”

“Early afternoon, then?”

He nodded.

Leaving the bustle of the kitchen behind, we returned to the main corridor and approached the throne room. Surren exchanged a brief word with the guards stationed near the massive double doors, and one of them slipped inside to let the herald know I'd arrived.

Before the doors opened, Erisandra left the hall on my right, her gaze locking on me. She strode over, her entourage a turbulent sea oozing around her. She stopped beside me, her face as sharp as her perfectly coiled dark hair and the deep green jewel dangling on her brow. Her gaze shifted to hover beyond my left shoulder, as though I was a faint sound she could tolerate if she didn’t focus on it too long.

“There you are,” I said brightly. “I hoped to speak with you.” Not truly, though the thought had been on my mind over the last few days while I lay moaning in bed. To fit in here fully, I needed even subtle support from this woman. If I could get in her good graces, she might back away and stop trying to thrust herself between me and Merrick.

Her left hand, adorned with green stone rings that perfectly matched the jewel on her forehead, lifted to brush imagined specks of lint from her bodice. “How noble of you.”

It took work to keep my retort from roaring up my throat. “I wanted to invite you to join me for tea tomorrow.”

Hence the horig cakes.

A flicker to my left caught my eye, something shifting on the periphery of my vision. Distortions warped the floor's glass-like surface to my left. Meanwhile, Erisandra stood with a twisted smile that remained devoid of real warmth. Fear gnawed at my gut, and I forced myself to blink, though the warping remained. Was she crafting another illusion to manipulate my perception? If so, why bother? Shifting images in the floor might trip me up or catch my attention, but I doubted they could do more than startle me.

“Is everything alright, Your Majesty?” Moira broke through my train of thought, her voice tinged with concern.

“Of course.”

“Tea?” Erisandra’s head tilted the barest degree in my direction, though her lips threatened a smirk. “My, my. An invitation from the duly crowned queen of Evergorne Court? How could I refuse?”

It wasn’t what she said but how she said it. Her agreement held no warmth, only a touch of conniving simmering below the surface. Whether I’d walked into her game, or she’d stepped into mine, I couldn’t tell.

The illusion in the floor intensified, a ripple of colors and shapes that seemed to fill the air with unspoken threats. Tendrils veined the surface, bright hues intertwining with shadows, creating an almost hypnotic energy. A hint of laughter hung in the air, a seductive whisper playing tricks with my mind. The colors deepened, whispering something I couldn't quite make out. Twisting reality, beckoning me to lose myself in its allure. My heart raced, and I could not drag my gaze away.

Vine-like projections coiled out of the floor. They slithered closer. Draped themselves across the tiles. Twisted across the tops of my shoes.

Binding tight.

My brain spun, but I was able to jerk my eyes away. Jerk my feet away.

It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real !

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Erisandra watching me with a smirk.

Damn her.

Pulling in power, I used it to lure in shadows, begging them to place themselves between me and the mirage. They thrust themselves between me and the vines, and the “mirage” recoiled, sinking back into the floor.

The tiles smoothed almost as if the mind-sucking illusions had never been there.

“Mid-afternoon?” I forced my voice to come out pleasant and not trembling from… Fury boiled through me, and I wanted to lash out at my mother-in-law, but that would put me right in her hands.

“Mid-afternoon will be fine.” Erisandra’s gaze darted to the doors that were now cracking open.

After flashing me a slick smile, she broke protocol that stated when the queen was ready to enter, royalty always proceeded any other person waiting.

With an upward twist of her mouth, she breezed through the now-open doors and into the throne room.