Unadulterated rage. Complete and utter vengeance.
La Dame knew no other feeling since the Basiles of Bela stole her daughter. They twisted her mind, ripping her from the very woman who raised her.
It wasn’t Rapunzel’s fault. Phillip Basile and that son of his were tricksters, bewitching their followers with the false light of their magic. What would the citizens of Bela do if they knew their king’s power originated in darkness? If they saw the anger burning in his eyes?
She’d seen who he truly was. Aurora was meant to be at her side. La Dame gave that up in hopes Phillip would drain the last of his power, killing himself and leaving Bela vulnerable. His power would then latch onto hers, intertwining its unbreakable embrace.
Only, true love’s kiss didn’t kill him. He was too strong. She should have seen it coming. He’d let the power control him, gaining ground on hers.
He’d beaten her.
Taken her only child.
She paced the length of the cavernous room beneath her palace. She kept her most prized possessions locked in the space. The door to the cell she’d occasionally kept Rapunzel in stood open, abandoned. Renauld’s was just as empty.
What did a Basile king want with a supposedly dead Durand prince?
She shook her head, ridding it of the questions. She had to do something, to take her revenge. Her steps echoed across the stone floor, the sound reverberating along the arched ceilings. Cases of stolen and precious items sat along the far wall. Jewels. Ancient weapons. Relics. One day, she’d have the crown of Bela in this vault. She’d tumble that kingdom from the very cliffs it sat on.
“A curse,” she whispered, eyeing Renauld’s empty cell.
The Durand prince came from a cruel family. His father and brothers hated nothing more than the Basiles. A smile slid across her thin lips. She pushed her hair over one shoulder and pulled every last bit of her magic to the surface of her skin.
Using magic against others sated her need for anger. But crafting curses was an art that filled her with joy. None other than her knew the true consequences until long after.
She lifted the bottom of her crimson dress and kneeled on the stone, letting her entire body relax into the rhythm of her power. She closed her eyes, rocking back and forth as she molded the magic.
When she spoke, it was only to herself. “The first son or daughter of Basile will be connected to the first of the Durands in each generation. Their lives will intertwine; their very souls will not be whole without the other. Enemies serving enemies. Basile serving Durand. The cursed will be limited and forced into their role. Let it be said that the Basiles destroyed their own kingdom for selfishness.” They could have avoided such a curse. Aurora didn’t have to wake. Rapunzel wasn’t theirs to keep.
As her magic swirled, obeying her commands, La Dame opened her eyes, wondering if she’d just changed the world forever.
Gaule and Bela would now be connected for as long as Bela lived, for as long as Basile descendants were born.
She stood, straightening her dress. Now, all she had to do was wait for their destruction.
For La Dame never aged. She couldn’t die. She would have the pleasure of watching everything she’d done play out.
And it would be glorious.