Etta lifted her head off the cool ground of the cell, her energy failing her. It wasn’t the same cell she’d been kept in before, but it might as well have been. Stone walls rose on three sides with a wrought-iron gate for the fourth.
No comforts existed within those walls. Nothing that would make her believe she was anything but a prisoner. Again.
No, she couldn’t be a prisoner. She was the queen of Bela, not merely Etta anymore. She wanted to scream for someone to let her out, but no sound came out.
“Hey.” Edmund kneeled next to her. “You’re awake.”
“Seems so.” She pushed up before falling back.
Edmund put a hand on her back to help her sit. The magic she’d used sucked everything out of her. As soon as the cell door slammed shut, locking them in, she’d fallen asleep.
The fog in her mind began to clear as she shook her head. Golden strands broke free of her braid, falling forward around her face.
“Where are our prisoners?” she asked.
Edmund shrugged. “At least this time we’re in here together.” He suppressed a grin.
She raised a brow. “Of course you’d make jokes right now.”
“Oh, come on, Etta. It’s like coming full circle. You and I are prisoners of Gaule again. There has to be some sort of irony in that.”
She curled her fingers into fists, trying to build the magic in her arms and push it through the rest of her body to wash away the exhaustion. Her limbs began to strengthen until she no longer had to rely on Edmund’s assistance to sit.
Edmund’s eyes widened. “When did you learn to do that?”
She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Just now, I guess.”
His eyes twinkled. “If you can replenish your magical energy…” He didn’t need to finish the thought as he blew out a long breath.
“Now we just need to figure out how to get out of here.”
“Do you think Alex knows we’re his prisoners?”
Etta didn’t miss the hope in his voice. He didn’t want to imagine Alex betraying him again. “He’s the king, Edmund. Why wouldn’t he know?”
Edmund shifted his eyes to his hands. “Camille may be doing this all on her own.”
Etta wanted to believe his words. Had the Alexandre Durand she’d known changed so much in just a short time apart? He was letting her people suffer. Did he now side against magic folk? What happened to him?
She scooted closer to him and wrapped an arm around his back. “I’m sorry, but when you stayed in Bela, you chose a side. Alex has determined that side is the enemy. He’s probably released Leroy and his daughter by now.” She closed her eyes and her breath stuttered. “And he has Verite.”
“I’m sorry. I know what Vérité means to you.”
Etta climbed to her feet. “It’s okay. I can get him back. I’ll tear this place apart stone by stone if I have to. If Gaule is once again turning on magic folk, we must return to Bela to prepare.”
“Prepare for what?”
“Whatever comes.” She extended a hand to Edmund. “We are no longer prisoners, Edmund. I am a queen and you are everything Gaule lacks. If they stand against us, they will lose.”
He clasped her hand and stood.
“Not prisoners,” he said as if to remind himself. “Not this time.”
Etta shot him a grim smile before turning to the door. Her control had returned, and she blasted the door off its hinges. It crashed against the wall with a loud clang. Other prisoners roused themselves with yells of surprise. Etta tried to pick out Lord Leroy’s voice among them. Tanner had said he was being held here.
Once the ringing in Etta’s ears quieted, an eerie stillness crept in. “Come on.” She led Edmund through the labyrinth of halls past full cells.
It wasn’t until they reached the stairs that they heard it. Footsteps.
“Camille,” someone snapped. “You had no right.”
“Of course I did. I have every right to lead Gaule when he—”
“He wouldn’t want you anywhere near his throne,” the man growled. “And he wouldn’t let you imprison—” The steps on the stairs stopped as Camille and Tyson came into view.
Tyson’s eyes widened when he caught sight of Etta and Edmund before a slow grin spread across his boyish face. He turned to Camille. “I told you they’d probably have escaped by now. You can’t hold Persinette Basile.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Edmund barked out a laugh, his shoulders relaxing. “See, Etta. If Ty didn’t know we were down here, what are the chances Alex did?”
The smile slipped from Tyson’s face for only a fraction of a second before it came back. Unkempt scruff covered his cheeks and dark circles ringed his eyes, but he was still Tyson.
They stood staring at each other for a long moment before Tyson bounded down the rest of the steps and didn’t stop moving until he had Etta wrapped in his arms. A shudder ran through him as he buried his face in Etta’s shoulder.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” he whispered. “Everything is so wrong.”
Etta wound her arms around his back. They may not have been raised together, but Tyson was her brother and she’d missed him every day.
“I’m so sorry,” he choked out. “Camille had you put here without me or mother knowing.”
Etta glared at the princess over Tyson’s shoulder.
Camille held her hands in front of her chest. “What was I supposed to do? She blew apart our gates! For all I knew, we were being attacked.”
Tyson pulled back and shot Camille a frigid look before regarding Etta with a quizzical frown. “We have so many questions for you. Why did you attack? Why were Liza Leroy and Lord Hinton with you? Why won’t they wake up? Why are you even here in Gaule?”
Etta breathed deeply and Edmund put a hand on Tyson’s shoulder. “If we can get out of the dungeons, we’ll explain. Maybe the king and the queen mother should join us?”
Tyson’s face fell, and he shook his head. “They won’t. But I’ll send for the duchess. Come.”
They ascended the stairs and Tyson fell into step beside Etta as they walked across the familiar courtyard. Etta still knew this place better than her own kingdom.
“Where’s—” she began but Tyson answered before she could finish.
“Vérité is in his old stall. He’ll be taken care of.”
Etta nodded gratefully. “And—”
“Liza and the Hintons are being kept under guard near Lord Leroy. They are not trusted in the palace.”
She squeezed his arm.
“I missed you,” he said in that open way he’d always had.
She smiled in spite of the circumstances and looped her arm through his. Camille let out a disgusted snort behind them.
Tyson leaned in. “I always knew you’d be our queen.”
Our. She hadn’t imagined it. He’d said our and that single word infused hope into her. When Tyson had chosen Alex, he’d taken a piece of Etta with him. Our. Tyson considered Bela his kingdom. Etta hid a smile behind her hand.
“I missed you too,” she whispered.
His face lit up at her words, the stress lines smoothing out.
“I can’t believe you destroyed our gates.”
“I’m sorry.” How could she tell him she hadn’t meant to? That in those moments, the magic controlled her instead of the other way around? Would he fear her too?
It turned out, there was no time to explain before another familiar face greeted her.
“Simon.” She nodded with a smile.
He immediately dropped into a bow. “My queen.” When he lifted his head, love and admiration resided in his gaze and it warmed her. “Welcome to Gaule.”
She gripped his arm and squeezed. “Thank you.”
More people waited inside the council chamber and Etta recognized most of them, but they weren’t Belaen. To them, she was just a foreign queen, and it was a bit of a relief. Magic folk looked at her as if she were their savior.
Duchess Moreau was the first to greet them, offering familiar hugs. Duke Caron bowed formally. A young woman sat in the back of the room, her wide eyes piercing into Etta. Etta liked her the minute their eyes connected. The woman’s gaze flooded with warmth.
“It’s nice to meet you, your Majesty,” a voice whispered.
Etta whipped her head around trying to find the source. The woman laughed and Etta stared at her once again, the corner of her mouth tilting up.
Duke Caron stepped forward. “Your Majesty, let me introduce my daughter, Ara.”
Etta instantly saw the duke in a new light. He had a daughter with magic? Camille must be really happy about that. The thought sent a perverse pleasure through her. Maybe that was why the princess had been forced to be on the side of magic folk.
One quick glance around the room was all Etta needed to register the heaviness in their expressions. Where was Alex? And Catrine?
Edmund voiced her questions. “Where’s the king?”
Simultaneously, their faces darkened and a foreboding chill crept over Etta. She turned to Tyson, her brother, the overly honest prince.
“Where is he, Ty?”
Tyson sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “They’re saying he doesn’t have much longer, Etta.” His voice choked. “He’s…” He shook his head. “I didn’t think anything could take him down.”
She stepped closer to Tyson, forcing him to meet her eyes. “Ty?”
He pushed out a shaky breath. “He was attacked last month. Our healers thought they’d save him, but then infection… He’s dying, Etta.”
The ground shifted beneath her. Her legs quaked as she stumbled back, sucking air into her lungs.
She shouldn’t care, her magic told her. Forget about him. He meant nothing to her.
Then why did her heart crack right down the middle? She shook her head. “He… he… he can’t.” Her words shook, and she grabbed for something, anything to keep her upright, latching on to Edmund’s arm. He held onto her as if his life depended on it, the news breaking him open just as much as her.
Alexandre Durand, king of Gaule, was the enemy of her magic and all she could think was that if he died, she’d die right along with him.
If they were still tied by the curse, she would. Their lives had been entwined. But this was different. It wasn’t her body that would die upon his last breath, it was her soul.
“I need to see him,” she forced out.
“Not so fast, your Majesty,” Duke Caron said. “You have a lot to answer for. You cannot walk away until we know why our gate lays in ruins and three of our nobles appear to be under the influence of magic.”
Etta glanced back at him with a growl. She didn’t care how she appeared to these people. Not when the need to see Alex burned through her. “You’ll get your answers when I deign to give them to you.”
He opened his mouth to protest, and she released a tendril of magic–just enough to push him back into a chair and hold him there.
“Persinette Basile,” he snapped.
“Da,” Ara slid into the seat next to her father. “No.”
Tyson hadn’t moved, but Ara’s voice sounded in Etta’s ear. “He’s in his chambers.”
Etta nodded gratefully and motioned for Edmund to follow her, preparing to use her magic to stop anyone who came after them. No one did.
The guard outside Alex’s chambers stepped into their path to stop them and Etta flung him against the wall, using her power to bind him there before pushing into the room.
Alex’s eyelids shifted, but remained closed. His skin had dulled into a sickly gray pallor and his dark hair stuck to his face. On the table beside the bed, a bowl of leeches waited to be used next to small glass vials containing various tinctures.
Catrine sat in a chair with her head resting on the bed, her long dark hair obscuring her features from view.
Etta’s eyes focused on Alex’s face. Even when she’d wanted to hate him, he’d been so strong, so sure.
Edmund’s hand slid down her arm and he laced his fingers with hers, squeezing tightly.
“Alex,” he breathed.
Catrine stirred and lifted her head slowly, her heavy-lidded eyes rounding when she saw them. Her shoulders dropped, and a sigh blew past her lips. “Thank God you two are here.” She got to her feet with the slowness of a much older woman. Her lips drew down, deepening the lines on her once flawless face. “He’s been asking for you. I didn’t have the heart to remind him you were…”
Etta tried to move forward but her feet wouldn’t budge. Edmund dropped her hand and walked to the side of the bed with none of the hesitation she felt.
“Why has he been asking for us if he didn’t know we’d ever be back?”
Catrine reached Etta’s side and put a hand on her back. “He hasn’t been in his right mind, honey.” She didn’t bother with the formalities their ranks insisted upon. Catrine never had. She’d taken Etta under her wing and now the reason screamed with clarity. Catrine Durand had loved Viktor Basile. Tyson’s existence proved that.
It should have tainted Etta’s opinion of the woman, that Viktor had betrayed Etta’s mother. But instead, Etta soaked in the comfort she’d always gotten from Catrine. She sucked in a heavy breath and pushed it back out as her feet finally started moving.
For so long, her magic had been forcing Alex into the role of the enemy in her mind, but now that he was slipping away, nothing made sense anymore. She hadn’t been so lost since the moment the curse was broken and their bond disappeared.
Edmund sat on the edge of the bed and took Alex’s frail hand in his. The king of Gaule murmured something unintelligible.
“Alex, sweetheart,” Catrine cooed.
“You don’t need to wake him,” Etta protested. Of all the scenarios, this was not how she’d imagined meeting Alex again.
“He’s been sleeping all day. It’s time for his next tincture.” She uncorked a bottle and poured it into a wooden mortar before grinding it together with the pestle. She didn’t ask the questions everyone else had for Etta and Edmund. Her only concern was her son. For once, the kingdom’s worries faded into the background.
“Alex,” she said again, squeezing his upper arm. His eyelids fluttered open slowly, and he stared up at them as if he couldn’t place who they were.
Unable to hold back any longer, Etta touched the side of his face, fingering the soft hairs growing on his cheeks. His entire face slackened. “Etta.” His voice was no more than a whisper. “I knew you’d come home, eventually.”
She frowned. Gaule wasn’t her home.
Alex’s eyes shifted to Edmund. “She saved you from the dungeons?”
Edmund’s pained eyes met Etta’s.
“Yeah,” he said. “Etta saved me.”
“I’m sorry,” Alex breathed. “I shouldn’t have kept you there.” He closed his eyes briefly. “I wish I could have been your savior.”
Tears sprang to Edmund’s eyes. “You were, Alex. You always were.”
“I love you.” Barely audible, the words had Edmund collapsing forward and pressing his face to his best friend’s chest.
“I love you too. Always.”
“Etta.” Alex tried to lift his hand to reach for her. “My Etta. Promise you’ll stay with me.”
Etta jumped back, her eyes shining. “I… I can’t do this.”
She reached the door in four long strides and didn’t relax until it stood between her and the dying king on the other side.
She choked back a sob. With a flick of her wrist, she released the guard she’d left pinned to the wall and turned to find Tyson waiting for her.
She sucked in a breath and did her best to push all thought of Alex aside before going back to the things she could control. The safety of her people.
“I’m ready for those questions, Tyson. I have answers for you, but your council better have answers for me as well. Answers and action. I will accept nothing less.”