Etta tried out a smile. One that didn’t look fake. It stretched her face unnaturally, but the family didn’t seem to notice as they waved to her excitedly. A little girl with angelic rosy cheeks ran toward her. “You’re the queen,” she said.
Etta smiled again but this time it wasn’t so forced as she nodded.
“You have hair like mine.” The girl grinned, pulling on her own blonde locks. The sun caught in the strands making them glow golden.
Etta touched the end of her braid. Not so long ago, she’d had to cut it off, and it hadn’t seemed important.
“Sasha!” A petite woman ran up. “Come here.” She curtsied quickly. “I’m sorry, your Majesty.”
She scurried away, pulling the girl alongside her. Etta watched after them, wishing she’d said something. The people who’d returned to Bela respected her. Edmund said they revered her, loved her even. The ones who hadn’t been present when she fought La Dame had heard the story. But they rarely talked to her.
Even after she’d fulfilled her promise to Edmund. She’d held court and nothing had felt more silly, at first. She’d sat on a raised chair and people bowed in front of her while offering platitudes.
That part had been a waste of time. She wasn’t the queen they needed. But then they began discussing what still needed to be done. They were expecting more ships soon. The village was to be expanded to accommodate more of their people seeking refuge. Old alliances were to be rekindled.
Winter was upon them and their food stores might not get them through it.
She shook her head. She’d known none of it would be easy.
Matteo had been there, always by her side, ready to help with any decisions, and she was beginning to wonder if she needed other advisors. She couldn’t do it on her own.
Pulling her cloak tighter about her, she hurried down the path to the beach. Edmund promised he’d meet her there.
A single flake of snow landed on her cheek, melting instantly. She looked up to see a few others fall as her breath floated in front of her face.
The birds had long since left Bela for warmer kingdoms and for the first time since leaving, she missed Gaule. It didn’t snow in the winter and the temperatures weren’t anywhere near as harsh. They didn’t have to huddle around fires at night in their ramshackle huts to keep from freezing to death.
Edmund was already at the beach, facing the rolling waves. The white cliffs rose up at their backs. Before Etta could alert Edmund to her presence, another person came into view. Esme.
Etta sucked in a breath. Esme had saved Edmund twice now and countless others, but it was hard to look at her without seeing her daughter. Maiya’s betrayal still clung to Etta like a fist around her heart.
Esme’s dark lips stretched to reveal impossibly white teeth. “My queen.”
It was on the tip of Etta’s tongue. The fact that technically La Dame was Esme’s queen since she was Draconian. But she bit back the words as Edmund turned.
His shoulders lifted in apology as he glanced between Etta and Esme. “If I’m going to be around while you’re testing out your powers, I’m going to have the healer nearby.”
“Okay.” Etta swung her arms in front of her, loosening her muscles.
“Okay?” Edmund quirked an eyebrow.
She nodded. He was right. No matter how much Etta distrusted the woman who’d spent her life working for La Dame, she trusted herself even less. She wouldn’t put Edmund at risk.
Tilting her head to the side, she cracked her neck and stretched her arms over her head. “So, how do we start?”
“You think I know?” he asked. “I’ve spent my life hiding my magic just like you.”
“You’re the one who pushed me so hard to use it.”
He shrugged. “And look how well that turned out.”
Esme started laughing, her shoulders shaking as she folded her arms across her stomach.
“Care to share what’s so hilarious?” Etta narrowed her eyes.
Esme swallowed down another laugh. “You’re supposed to be Bela’s hope for survival?”
“And?”
“And you two are going to get yourselves killed.” She shook her head.
Etta stepped toward her. “What would you know? You’re just a healer?”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about. I am a healer, yes, but healing isn’t my only magic.”
She closed her eyes and Etta suddenly felt every bit of defiance draining away as if it had never been a part of her.
A dumb grin lit Edmund’s face.
“Edmund,” Esme said softly. “Tell me your greatest fear.”
He wouldn’t just obey her, would he? Etta watched her friend struggle with his words. His forehead scrunched as he fought her command, but then smoothed out as another wave of peace pulsed out.
“That…” He tried to keep them in. “That they’re right about us.”
“Who, Edmund?” Esme asked. “Who is right?”
“Gaule. Everyone. That we’re dangerous. That our magic isn’t to be trusted.”
Etta stared at him as the peace snapped away like a rubber band stretched too far. Red crept up into his cheeks as he realized what he’d just said.
“Etta,” he said softly.
She turned away from him to fix Esme with a glare. “If I find you using that on any of my people, I’ll send you back to Dracon and whatever fate awaits you there.”
Esme didn’t flinch under the harsh stare as she nodded once.
Etta faced Edmund once again. “You’re right, Edmund. We are dangerous. We shouldn’t be trusted. Because the time of Bela has come. They should fear us, but we should not fear each other. Let’s begin.”
It was too strong. Etta felt it vibrating through her. This magic. This power. It didn’t feel like hers. She’d always been comforted by her ability to create life. Even now, her mind’s first instinct was to latch on to the weeds poking through the rocks where sand met grassy hill. She closed her eyes and tugged on the tight string, imagining the weeds stretching up toward the sky.
The tight string loosened quickly and Etta’s eyes popped open as it unraveled within her. Her head jerked back as she tried to hold it inside but her control was gone. Her mind reached out, grasping, straining, for something to hold on to.
Wind rushed in her ears, a deafening roar drowning out the screaming of those around her.
“No,” she cried as she felt it slipping. “Agh!”
She fell forward and her knees hit the sand as the power exploded out of her, draining every bit of energy inside.
The sand rose up around her as she pitched forward onto the now scorched ground. She turned her head in time to see Edmund flying into the air.
Her cheek was still pressed to the warm ground as the sand settled in a haze of dust, mixing with the still falling snow. Edmund’s head popped up among the waves and he made it to the shore with a few strong strokes.
Etta sucked in a breath as if air was in short supply, her heart drumming rapidly against her ribs. Edmund crawled out of the water and collapsed shivering.
Esme ran forward and dropped to the ground beside him.
“How,” Etta wheezed. “How did you avoid it?”
Esme didn’t look up from checking over Edmund. “The range of my magic is much farther in front of me. I took a chance standing down there, hoping your range was similar.” She pointed toward the far end of the beach. “Edmund here thought you’d have more of a chance if you could see him.”
“Obviously not.” She crawled toward them and looked down into her friend’s face. “You okay?”
“Just c-cold.” His teeth chattered.
She shrugged out of her cloak and laid it over him, but it was soaking wet in seconds. “You need dry clothes.”
“Are you hurt?” Esme asked.
“I d-don’t t-think so.”
“That is why we’re doing this at the beach.” She helped him to his feet. “If we were in the woods, he could’ve been seriously injured.”
“I don’t think you guys should be helping me anymore.” Etta kicked at the sand as a gust of wind blew it into the air. The chill felt good on her burning skin. The snow sizzled when it touched her.
“T-Too bad.” Edmund trudged up the path in search of dry clothes, but Esme stayed behind.
“He’s right, you know,” she said.
Etta strode across the beach to the rocks and sat down. “About what?”
“You can’t do this alone and if you don’t learn to control your magic, it not only takes the one weapon against La Dame we have, but it’ll kill you.” Esme was quiet for a moment before trying a different tactic. “Can I tell you a secret?”
“Aren’t you usually pulling secrets from other people?”
She nodded. “I deserve that. I have spent my entire life in service to La Dame. I admit it. I joined her ranks of my own free will when I was a teenager. I worshipped the ground she walked on.”
“What changed?”
“I had a daughter.”
“Maiya.”
Esme nodded. “Her father was one of La Dame’s dragons. That’s her network of spies. Pierre is the only dragon who managed to get close to Viktor Basile. He is a hero in Dracon. And my greatest nightmare. La Dame gave our daughter to him to use for his cover in Gaule. Before that night at La Dame’s final ball in Bela, I hadn’t seen her since she was a baby.”
“I’m sorry.”
Esme lifted her eyes. “You’re a queen. Don’t be sorry. Tell me I’ll have my revenge. For years, she’s used my daughter’s life as a way to keep me in her control.”
“But you still left her to join us.”
Her shoulders dropped. “I know.”
Etta leaned in, dropping her voice. “You’ll have your revenge.”
“And you’ll have my loyalty.” She cocked her head. “But can I ask you a question?”
Etta nodded.
“Why would your father name you Persinette? In Draconian, that means—”
“I know. He named me Rapunzel.” She scrunched her brow and blew out a breath. “I don’t understand anything my father ever did. Was he taunting her? Did he want her to come for us? I’m never going to know because he died with so many secrets.”
Etta slid from the rocks as she watched Edmund approach in dry clothes. He’d tied his wet hair away from his face.
“Persinette,” Esme said.
Etta turned. “Yeah.”
She took a breath as if weighing her words. “La Dame believes she will own you one day. That’s why…”
“Why what?”
“Deep in the recesses of the Draconian palace lays a crown. Your crown. The Basile crown was not lost as the legends say. She has kept it for the day the Belaen ruler stands at her side.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.” Etta’s eyes drifted out over the water but she didn’t take in the sight. “Why then did she want me dead?”
“Think about it. She’s never actively tried to kill you.” She shook her head. “She’s kept your family cursed for many generations looking for the one she deems worthy.”
Etta jumped to her feet and spun. “Why am I worthy? Why not my father? I am nothing. I can’t even control my own magic.” Etta’s chest heaved as her voice rose.
Edmund reached them and draped a dry cloak over her shoulders. “You’re wrong.”
“It’s just another thing she’s stolen that I have to get back.” Etta rested her hands on top of her head. “I will never stand at her side, but I will have my crown.”
Edmund grunted. “Glad someone is finally realizing she can’t escape destiny.”
“Not destiny, Edmund. Revenge. Blood. Magic.”
“There’s something else,” Esme said hesitantly.
After a long pause, Edmund gestured for her to continue. “Don’t leave us in suspense.”
Esme breathed deeply. “Your power is the opposite of La Dame’s.”
“What does that mean?” Etta met her gaze.
“Many centuries ago when the Basile magic and La Dame’s were first revealed, they balanced each other. One held immense darkness and the other light. Since then, they’ve both grown darker, but the same rules apply. They will battle each other any chance they get, but at the same time, they attract each other. Your power will try to draw hers in, stealing it from her.”
“Is that even possible?”
“It had never been done… but yes. And, Etta, you must resist the urge to take what is hers.”
“Why?” Etta asked. “Shouldn’t I try to strip her of power?”
“If your power and hers meet within your body…” Esme shook her head. “I’m sorry, Etta, but it will destroy you.”
“Come on Etta,” Esme called. “Focus. Do it again. Try to only release it in bits. In battle, when the adrenaline courses through you, you must fight the urge to expel too much at once. If you do that, the power will leave you forever.”
Edmund got to his feet once more and stumbled backward. Esme reached for his arm to keep him upright.
At Esme’s healing touch, Edmund stood straighter, his eyes regaining clarity.
Etta shook her head. “It’s been too much.”
“I’m fine,” Edmund said, his voice strained.
He was anything but fine. They’d been training for days and Etta lost count of the number of times Edmund had been knocked unconscious or thrown into the icy water. She was improving, learning to control when the power was unleashed, but pulling it back was another story. The impact reached far enough that they’d cleared the beach of all people except the three of them.
If she was ever going to have a chance against La Dame, she needed complete control over her powers. The more she used it, the greater her stamina became.
But would it be able to match that of the most powerful sorcerer in the world?
She’d been able to focus enough to expel bits of the power without releasing it all at once. If she strained, she could draw on her ability of growth—the very same thing she’d tried that first day. They stood at the base of the cliffs and the vines crept up the sheer rock wall, slithering like snakes.
She closed her eyes, seeing her old home in her mind. The Black Forest with the meadow of flowers she’d created was her safe place, despite its location inside Gaule. It calmed her and allowed her to contain the magic trying to break free.
A hum sounded low in her throat as a hand landed on her shoulder. She startled out of her trance and instinctively sent a blast of power behind her, striking Edmund in the chest.
She turned in time to see him land halfway down the beach, his body bent at an odd angle.
Esme reached him before Etta and laid her hands on his chest. He was back with them in moments.
“Do you enjoy almost dying?” Etta spat, pushing to her feet.
“Not particularly,” Edmund wheezed, staring up at the sky. “No.”
“Why did you touch me?”
“You were doing it. Focusing your magic.” He rolled over onto his belly and pushed his hands under him. “Forgive me for being proud.”
The corner of her mouth lifted. “I was doing it, wasn’t I?” She turned back toward the cliffs where a series of vines now crisscrossed the surface. She clenched her fist, feeling the magic pool in her fingertips. It wanted the same thing she’d spent her life seeking. Freedom.
The curse had been her master and now she was the magic’s master. She could do this. The power inside of her was a living thing, but it attached itself to everything she was with promises of everything she could be.
“Edmund needs to be done for the day,” Esme said, ever the voice of reason.
Etta nodded. “You two go up to the cook fires and rest. I’m going to keep practicing.”
“Not alone,” Edmund argued.
“Edmund, I am the queen. I will do as I please.” She softened her eyes. “Just go. Please. I’m okay.”
They hesitated a moment longer before disappearing up the path. Etta held her palms over the ground and started by releasing magic in small amounts, working up to a continuous stream, blasting sand into the water. She walked forward, a cloud of dust surrounding her.
The air turned frigid as the sun disappeared from view, but Etta’s skin was blazing. She unhooked her cloak and tossed it behind her, raising her arms. Her golden hair flew back away from her face as she enjoyed the feeling of strength, of power.
It was a dizzying mix of fear and a desire for more.
“Etta,” someone’s voice broke through her trance. “Etta!”
The power fizzled out as she lowered her arms. She’d done it. She’d pulled it back. She hadn’t hurt anyone. A breath rattled in her chest as she turned her head to meet her cousin’s gaping stare.
“You…” Matteo couldn’t get any other words out so he just pointed. “Your…”
“What?” Exhaustion struck her suddenly and forcefully. Taking a step toward him took every ounce of energy she possessed.
“Hair,” he croaked.
Etta raised a heavy arm to the hair that had come loose from her braid and pulled it forward, dropping it immediately. It was glowing as it had the day it grew from where she’d cut it off. She squeezed her eyes shut, thinking when she opened them, none of it would be real.
But it was. Her hair had an ethereal golden shine. It began to fade as they stood there gawking at it until it returned to its normal blonde shade. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, but part of her thought she’d imagined it before.
“What was that?” she asked.
“I don’t know.”
She managed to get herself to the rocks before her legs collapsed beneath her.
They didn’t speak for a few moments until Matteo broke the silence. “I’ve lived most of my life in La Dame’s household and I’ve never seen anything like that before.”
Etta buried her face in her hands. “There’s so much I don’t know. Has the curse kept this power from every generation of Basiles since Phillip and Aurora, or am I the only one? What am I supposed to do with it? Is my magic strong enough to beat her?”
When he didn’t respond, Etta spoke again, but this time it was more to herself. “Why do I miss the feeling of the curse filling me?”
“The last one is easy.” Matteo took her hands and pried them away from her face. “The curse gave you a single purpose. There was no question as to what you were supposed to do. Protect the Duran king. That left no room for interpretation and there was nothing you could do to change it.” He paused. “Now you are a queen and none of us know what being queen of a kingdom that was destroyed generations ago even means.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“How’s this for simple—you miss serving someone instead of having people serve you.”
“That’s just stupid.”
“Is it?” he asked. “Okay, then let’s try this. You don’t miss serving. You miss serving Alexandre Durand.”
She forced out a laugh. “There’s only one Durand I want with me and that’s Tyson.”
He bumped her shoulder. “For the record, I think Alexandre Durand is a spoiled king who had never tasted hardship before La Dame took him.”
“I don’t disagree with that assessment.”
“And now he’s gone back to his palace. He’ll have won it back by now and Gaule will return to its glory days of persecution and torment. We should take advantage of their internal struggles and make our move.”
Etta slid from the rock, Alex’s face appearing in her mind. Was he okay? Were Tyson and Catrine? “No,” she sighed. “I made a promise. Their borders will remain untouched.” She gave Matteo a reassuring smile. “But at the first sign of Belaens being persecuted in Gaule, we ride.”