After his first few weeks as King, Alex had accomplished nothing more than putting out fires among the nobles. Money had to be raised to repair the damage from the quakes. People flocked to the castle to regale the king with tales of those intimidating them with magic. It seemed the villages had a problem, but the rural areas suffered worse.
There were more magic folk still living in Gaule than he’d realized. Part of him was pleased that the purge wasn’t a complete success. He’d never advocate murder. But a greater part of him recognized the danger they now faced.
It was to be his first trip into town since his father died. The first with a crown nestled in his inky hair.
Sleep had eluded him much of the night. When it did come, it was interrupted by images that left him gasping and clawing at the bed. He leaned against the fence where horses watched him curiously.
Memories flashed before him and he was twelve again.
"Father," he'd asked. "Why are you doing this?" He struggled to keep up with his father's long strides.
The king stopped when he reached his waiting horse, held in place by an older stable hand. He stepped into the stirrup and vaulted up into the saddle.
"Father." Tears ran down the young prince's face. "They're gone. Viktor. Persinette."
The king's eyes cut through his son. "Don't worry, boy. We won't let them get far. We will rid this land of magic once and for all."
He kicked his horse and thundered past the gates with a stream of soldiers following.
Alex fell to his knees. Magic was evil, but his friend wasn't. Persinette and her father were on their side. He was sure of it. He called after his father, but he was long gone.
That night, and many that followed, saw blood run through the streets of Gaule. There'd been no turning back. He was bred to distrust the power he didn't understand, bred to obey and worship his father. So much so, that now he didn't know who to trust. He didn't know how to protect his kingdom.
"Sire," Edmund's voice broke through the haze in his mind. "The horses are ready."
Alex regarded him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Thank you, Edmund."
Etta led her horse from the stables. She'd chosen one no one else would have. The beast was wild and angry, much like her. Alex sighed. She hadn't spoken more than a few polite words to him all morning. Neither had acknowledged the closeness they felt since their kiss. Dancing with her the night before was the only time during the ball that he didn’t want to throw his crown across the room and make a mad dash for the border.
It was one of the many things Alex no longer understood.
Why was he so drawn to her?
She was difficult and rude. She had an obvious disdain for his father. Nothing about her was simple. Her features were strong and hardened, instead of the delicate faces he’d experienced among the women at court.
He shook his head and climbed onto his shining black steed. His bow—his weapon of choice—was tied to the saddle.
Etta snorted when she saw it.
"Is there a problem?" Alex snapped.
"No, your Majesty." She suppressed a grin as she checked the ties on her horse’s saddle. "It's just that I didn't know we were going hunting."
"I suppose I don’t want to know what you’re talking about, but curiosity has gotten the better of me. Explain."
Edmund walked his horse up beside the two. "I think she means that if you want to protect yourself, a bow is as useful as a knife when eating soup."
Etta laughed and Alex’s irritation subsided as he lost himself in the sound.
"Edmund." Etta looked sideways. "Maybe you should help his majesty with his sword-skill."
"Me? Why not you? You're the protector." He feigned indignation and hauled himself onto his horse.
"Because if I were to harm the king, my daddy couldn't get me out of the dungeon." Her horse snorted as she pulled herself onto him and swung her leg over.
He held a hand to his heart. "That was a low blow, lady Etta."
"I'm no lady."
Before either of them could respond, she kicked her horse, and they started down the path.
People crammed themselves along the sides of the streets to get a look at their newly crowned king. There were cheers and excitement. All nerves drifted far away as Alexandre Durand took in his people. They'd come for him. Only him. Not his father. He couldn't remember ever seeing this kind of reaction for his father. It was so very different from the reception he’d received from his nobles.
He sat up straighter in his saddle and lifted his arm in a wave.
Edmund snorted beside him. "You're enjoying this."
Alex shot him a grin. "After the public flogging I received at the ball, why shouldn't I?" He glanced back to where Etta sat perfectly atop a horse that no one else had dared to ride.
She caught his eye as he laughed. "Is there a problem, your Majesty?"
"I can't believe you haven't been thrown from your horse yet."
She drew her lips to the side. "Is that a challenge?"
"I would never issue you a challenge you couldn't win."
Etta smirked and bent forward to whisper to her horse. Her legs squeezed in tighter and she jerked the reins. The darn horse began to prance as if they'd been practicing the move their whole lives.
The crowd let out a roar of approval, egging Vérité on. He went on for a few moments before returning to his stance and continuing on with the guard’s horses.
Alex threw his head back in laughter. Etta didn't look at him. Her eyes shifted toward the people, but her lips twisted as she tried to hide a smile.
The bright sun beat down on them as they came to a stop in the center of town. The market was teeming with villagers who'd followed them through the streets.
Alex slid down from his horse gracefully and his guard did the same. As he watched the people surround him, he breathed out heavily. How was he to lead these people when he didn't know how to keep them safe? Today he'd make the announcement that could change their fates, the fate of the kingdom of Gaule. Today, he'd tell them that their worst nightmare was here. That they were vulnerable.
Those cheers would turn to gasps, the joy to fear. They were about to break.
He clenched his palm tight, fingernails digging into skin, and looked to Etta. She'd been right. Morning always brings clarity. She was meant to see this through with him. Her eyes lifted to his and that same electricity from that night in his room flowed between them. She nodded once, and he knew he could do it.
He was ready to be king.
"The king has an announcement to make," Edmund's voice rose above the rabble and the crowd quieted.
Etta glanced around for a familiar face. A few in this town could point to her as the thief with magic. Then there were the two who could put her mind at ease about her father. But Maiya and Pierre were nowhere to be found.
Alex stepped onto a platform and she followed, scanning for possible dangers.
He cleared his throat. "Hi." He coughed as words failed him.
Uncertainty marred his features, and she stepped closer and dropped her voice. "Honesty, your Majesty. That's what they deserve."
He swallowed and began again. "Our period of mourning for my father has ended. It must. As a kingdom, we must move on to the dangers we face. I am no longer your prince." One of the guards handed up Alex's crown, and he placed it on his head. "I am now Alexandre Durand, forty-second king of the great kingdom of Gaule. And I am here to tell you of the dangers we face. The wards have been destroyed."
A cry rose up from the crowd as panic set in.
"Hear me now—" But before he could continue, a burst of wind blew through the market, stronger than any natural force.
Etta yanked Alex down off the platform.
"What's going on?" he yelled over the deafening noise.
"Magic." She wasn't sure he heard her, and it was probably better if he didn't. She could feel the magic in the air, swirling down upon them. She scanned the rooftops for the source of the wind and found a stocky man with bright red hair. His arms were raised as he called his magic.
More screams rose up as fires erupted out of nowhere. There was no doubt in her mind. Gaule was under attack.
She kept hold of Alex's arm to keep from being separated. Edmund took his place on the other side of the king. "We need to get him somewhere safe."
Edmund was right. They had to get out of there.
"Come on." She patted Vérité's side, and he turned to follow them. They ran into an alleyway and the sounds from the market square faded.
The rest of the king's guards were lost in the mess behind them.
They reached the end of the alley and jogged up the street until they arrived at a familiar shop. Etta yanked on the door but it was locked.
"Maiya," she yelled, pounding her fists against the solid wood. It was cracked, probably from the quake after her father's death. The wood groaned beneath her steady drumming. "Pierre." Sounds came from the alleys nearby and her fists slowed. "Please. Let us in."
As she stopped and turned back to look at the king, considering their next move, the door swung open.
"P-Etta," Maiya cried, flinging her arms around her friend.
"Maiya, we need to come in."
She stepped back and finally noticed Etta's companions. "Of course. Come in. Come in." They rushed inside, shut the door, and latched it.
Maiya dipped into a curtsy. "Your Majesty."
"We owe you a debt," Alex said as he tried to even his breathing.
Etta grabbed Maiya’s arm. "I need to talk to you."
She nodded and led Etta to the back room. Alex tried to follow, but the door shut in his face.
As soon as they were alone, Etta's shoulders sagged, and she leaned against the wall, running a hand through her hair.
"I knew it was coming," Maiya confessed suddenly. "The attack. There's a group of magic folk who've been planning it since the wards came down."
"Why didn't you warn me?"
"How was I supposed to do that?" Etta had never seen Maiya look so angry. "I haven't heard a word from you until today. We didn't know if you were dead or if your magic had been found out and you were rotting in their prison." A sob escaped her. "Things have been bad here, Etta. So much of the town was destroyed in the quake. It's not safe to roam the streets."
"Then why don't you pack up and move to the forest?"
"You forget, the forest is no longer protected; the people no longer hidden. They wait for the day they're found and rounded up by the very king you bring to my house tonight."
Etta hesitated. "I don't think Alex is the man his father was."
"But what if he is? This curse will be the death of you."
Etta stepped forward and gripped Maiya's shoulders, craning her neck to look down into her eyes. "I won't let it."
"Will you let it be the death of our people?"
She sucked in a breath. "Of course not. But our people are not saved by launching attacks that only brew anger."
"Then how are our people saved?" Maiya asked.
"I don't know."
"That’s ... reassuring."
A tired laugh burst out of her and she pulled Maiya in for a hug. "I missed you." They stood that way for a few moments before Etta pulled back to ask the question that had been tearing at her. "My father ..."
"We buried him in the Black Forest where he would've wanted." She paused. "By the most enchanting stretch of wildflowers. It's strange. I don't recall seeing those anywhere else in that forest." She gave Etta a knowing look.
A weight lifted from her heart. Her father was home. Better yet, he was in her sanctuary. She'd never shown it to him in life and now she wished she'd had. There were many things she wished she'd said to her father.
When they rejoined Alex and Edmund, Pierre was with them.
"Etta," he said warmly, opening his arms. She hugged him as she never had before. Pierre and Maiya were all she had left of her father.
Alex had a grim look on his face as she approached. "My father was right," he said. "Magic is evil. I will do my best to crush it.” He glanced around at the others in the room. "This I promise you."
Etta exchanged a look with Edmund, a silent conversation that needed no words.
Alex spun toward the door. "We should be out there fighting." Red crept up his neck as he tried to contain his anger.
Pierre shot Etta a pleading look.
"Your Majesty, there's nothing you can do."
A scream from the street pierced the air before it was abruptly cut off.
Alex glanced wildly between the door and Etta's calm face. He tore his eyes from her and made it to the door before they could stop him. "They're my people," he growled, yanking it open. "I will not hide while they are cut down."
Edmund pulled his sword from its scabbard before looking to Etta. "I guess we're doing this." He rushed after Alex.
Etta took a step to follow them.
"They're your people, Persinette," Pierre said to her back. "Don't forget that as your sword cuts them down."
She didn't turn to look at him. "I don't have a choice. They may be my people, but I'm the cursed one. I fear my life will be spent fighting those I should be fighting for."
She ducked out the door and immediately found Edmund and Alex. They were locked in a battle with a man who was shooting sparks from his fingertips. They stood no chance. Etta ran around the side of the building, hidden from view, and called her magic forth. The stones beneath their feet began to shake and crack as they rose up. Alex stumbled back, his eyes wide. Edmund used the momentary break to push a burst of air at their attacker. He rose up slightly before slamming back against the face of the building.
Alex was too stunned to see Edmund's power. Etta ran forward as if she'd just arrived. Vérité joined her.
"We can't stay out here in the open," she said.
"You two need to get out of here." Edmund gestured to the horse.
"How?" Alex's eyes were still wild, but his breathing returned to normal. "They'll have blocked the road back to the palace."
"Go North."
"But that's ..."
"Through the Black Forest," Etta finished for him, shaking her head. She couldn't take the King of Gaule through the forest. For one, it wouldn't be safe. For him or the people that lived there. It was too close, too risky. Her secrets hung by a thread and Edmund was asking her to expose them even more.
"It's the only way." He glanced down the ally as footsteps reached their ears.
Etta shook herself. "What about you?"
"I'll be fine as long as the king is safe. You're his protector. So, protect."
They shared another one of their unspoken conversations, knowing they'd both risk it all to keep Alex safe. For him, it was love, loyalty. For her, it was the curse, but it was becoming so much more. After a lifetime preparing to hate him, she couldn’t grasp the feelings swirling inside of her.
"Come on." She swung up into the saddle, motioning for the king to climb up behind her. He had no more objections. It was written in his eyes. He was no match for the magic these people held. He never would be.
As soon as he was up, Etta gathered the reins and Vérité took off without prompting. They cantered through the eerily empty and broken streets. The sounds of fighting from the market center died on the wind until all they heard was the steady drumming of the horse’s hooves.
Neither of them spoke as they left the town behind them and rode on. The ride was long, and the forest stretched before them, shadowy and impenetrable. Only now, it was no longer protected. It was no longer held ghostly voices that echoed among the trees, or guarded the people hidden among the wards. Now they were visible. Their houses there for everyone to see.
Etta longed to go back to a simple time among the trees. Training with her father. Rides with Vérité. She could sense the horse's excitement as they neared.
Alex, on the other hand, tightened his grip on her. He'd been raised on stories from the forest. To him, it must have represented everything that was evil in Gaule.
He sucked in a breath loudly.
"You'll be okay," she said.
"I know that, but it doesn’t make me any less desirous to be here. I should be heading back to the palace or fighting in the town."
"You’d never make it." She touched his hand gently. “You can’t be a good king if you die before getting the chance to try.”
His teeth ground together. "How long will we be in the woods?"
She thought for a moment, considering how far out of the way they’d have to go to avoid where she knew people lived. She wouldn’t reveal them to the king for expediency’s sake. "Maybe two days." Glancing at the waning sun behind her. "We entered at a far edge and will have to avoid all paths that lead into town or get any kind of traffic. It's around two days to the far side of the palace walls if we only take the safer paths."
"Safer paths?"
"Most of the stories about this place you've heard are ... untrue. But we still need to be cautious."
"How do you know so much about these woods?"
He was too close to the truth. Think. Think. She closed her eyes, thankful he couldn't see her face. "I used to hunt with my father here."
"You were brave."
She ignored that. If she were brave, she'd have ridden to Dracon to confront La Dame about breaking her curse instead of bowing to it.
Etta looked over her shoulder, considering if it was safe enough to stop. "Vérité needs a break." They were as safe as they could be after an attack in the village. She sighed and slid down. Alex followed her.
"I think we should travel without stopping,” Alex said. “I need to get back to the palace as soon as possible to deal with the attackers and lend support to the village.” He spoke rapidly. "Where did they come from? Are they working for La Dame? How many did they kill? Did they take hostages?"
"Slow down, your Majesty." She scanned the surrounding forest. "I know you've been relatively sheltered most of your life, but we can't be stupid. If we travel straight through, we'll be no use to anyone when we show up. We should find a place to set up camp soon. We'll need something to eat as well."
He considered her for a long moment, the side of his mouth quirking up. "Are you giving me—the king—orders?"
"Out here, there is no king, only the ones who survive and the ones who don't."
"I didn't know you had a bossy side. I've seen angry. Quiet. Unsure. Even kind. Never bossy."
She pushed by him, bumping his shoulder as she hid her smile from him.
"I like bossy."
They avoided any houses they passed, keeping to the paths Etta knew only too well. When she'd lived there, she'd avoided any contact with the others residing among the trees. Or maybe they'd avoided her. Whichever it was, she'd spent most of her time alone. Her father was always off, secretly watching the king from afar. The king he hated with everything he was. The king he'd never truly stopped serving.
The image of her father as his back hit the dirt played through her mind. She wiped away an angry tear before Alex could see how this place affected her. Her magic buzzed in a way it never did inside the castle walls, surrounded by her concrete prison. Out here, she knew every leaf, every flower that struggled to bloom. They called to her.
As the light faded, the trees became shadows, wrapping the travelers in a cloak of darkness. A warm night breeze lifted the hair off her neck and she turned, half expecting to see Edmund there, running to catch up. There was no one but Etta and the king, something she was acutely aware of.
"Etta." Alex's soft voice echoed through the space. "If you insist on us resting, we should find a place before we lose anymore light."
"Not yet." It was a dangerous thing to countermand a king, yet she continued to walk, pulling Vérité along behind her. They were close, she could feel it.
Her eyes lifted as they crested a hill, her glen laid out before them. A sigh hissed from her lips as relief flooded through her. She was home.
Her old shack was nowhere near, but this place meant more to her than her home ever had. The ground was soft under her feet and her eyes only caught the outlines of flowers stretching into the distance. But she didn't need to see them. She felt them.
"We’re staying here for the night." She removed her scabbard and mail shirt. Her shoulders flexed as they enjoyed their freedom.
A drop of water hit her face, and she tilted it up to watch more break through the tree cover. She smiled despite herself.
Alex stopped beside her, droplets landing in his hair. "Just our luck."
She turned to face him.
He sucked in a breath. "I don't think I've ever seen you smile like that."
"You haven't known me long, your Majesty." She slipped into formality to put some distance between them. "Our time together has been fraught with turmoil. Even now. I shouldn't smile under these circumstances. I apologize." She dropped her gaze.
"No." He lifted his hand to trace the outline of the frown she now wore. "Please. When you smile, I feel like my entire world isn't crumbling down. Just for one moment." He snatched his hand back. "I just ..."
She looked to him, still torn between wanting to be rid of him forever and wanting something ... different. Maybe the key to the curse was not giving in to its demands, but in realizing she could make demands of it. She couldn't ignore it any longer. Whether it was the curse, that stupid kiss, or something much, much more. She was drawn to this enemy of hers and she was tired of fighting it.
They both acted in the same moment. She gripped his shoulders as he slammed his mouth against hers. Desperation tugged at her. The rain began to come faster as her lips parted and his tongue met hers in a wave of ecstasy, a wave of fantasy. Because that's all it could ever be. Away from the castle, in the depths of her forest, a fantasy was born. They weren't ancient enemies. He knew her full name and everything she could do. And he was still there, kissing her as if none of it mattered.
A sob threatened to break their kiss because it did matter. If he knew, he'd have her hauled away.
He moaned into her mouth, pressing closer, and she pushed down her wretched despair. Gripping the edge of his shirt, she bunched it in her hands and skimmed the skin just beneath. He broke away from her long enough to tug it over his head.
His chest was slick with rain as she traced his muscles, warm under her hands.
"Etta," he growled.
It was pointless to try to stop as his mouth claimed hers once again.
"I've wanted you since the very first time I saw you at that tournament." His words vibrated against her lips.
She didn't tell him of the naive girl who'd, once upon a time, had a crush on a prince who was so very kind to her. She hadn't yet known how his fate would be tied to hers.
So, she tied it further.
It didn't matter that none of it was real—what he was feeling. It only mattered that for the first time since the tournament, she felt something other than the hole where her soul should be.
He captured her lips again as he pulled her down to the soft earth, pinning her beneath him. A puddle formed around them, but neither noticed as a stillness entered their hearts. Joined as one, the curse's constant pull fell silent.
None of it could last though and she'd never been more thankful for the darkness that hid her tears.