Page 130 of Of Curses and Courtship

I sniffle. “Perhaps you’re right. They were never to be trusted.”

They are the reason I left in the first place, and now… I’m alone. Utterly, completely alone.

At night, we cram into my little bed. My bones are weary, and this bed doesn’t offer enough space for proper relaxation. When I was small, it seemed so spacious. As I grew older, it was still fine to sleep in—for one person.

Two grown fae is another story.

Even with our wings tucked safely away, we can hardly fit in the bed. We turn onto our sides, our backs pressed together. Helena never ceases wiggling, even once she has fallen asleep. Her cold feet brush against mine, and she mumbles in her sleep.

I was aware of these quirks before, having shared a bedchamber with her for months, but it’s unbearable when we are this close. How is anyone supposed to sleep in this state?

I’m covered in dirt, my throat aches from crying, and my heart is heavy.

What is the chance that Emyr is truly on his way to save me? I’ve seen him run from threats, and I’ve always known I am the one who must free myself.

That has not always been the case, though, has it? There was someone else who freed me last time.

Isa.

A tear slides down my face.

“Please,” I whisper. “Isa. Can you hear me?”

She always shows up when I need her most, and she does so without problem. Can she hear me now, now that I am trapped?

“Dear one,” an ominous voice whispers. “What has that wicked witch done?”

I sit upright. Isa’s voice is soft, but it’s undoubtedly her. It’s almost as if she is next to me, but I look around the room, and she’s nowhere to be seen.

Have I begun hearing things?

“Isa?”

“Over here. In the window.”

That’s right. Windows are portals, too, aren’t they?

Sure enough, her vision dances through the glass, a little projection of her plump form. She can’t save me this way, can she?

My voice shakes. “You’re not truly here, then?”

“I am not,” she says, “but your prince is on the way to rescue you.”

My eyes widen. “Truly? He is, and he knows where to find me?”

“I alerted him as soon as I had the vision of you trapped in this house, and I am sorry to see that it was true.”

“You had a vision of me?” My fingers press against the cool glass.

“I did. My visions of you are quite vivid.”

Wasting such magic on me is peculiar. I tilt my head to the side. “Is there a reason for that—for me showing up in your visions?”

“We do not have time to speak of this. Another day. Magic like this is difficult to sustain, as you have already experienced. Have you had any luck creating another portal? With the window, perhaps?”

How does she know I crafted a portal? I suppose there is no time to ask that, either.

I shake my head. “No. Just the one.”