Page 132 of Of Curses and Courtship

“This isn’t the time to jest.” I run my fingers through my limp, frazzled hair. “She took Ophelia because… because she knows our love would break the curse? Yes?”

“Yes.”

“That means we can break it?” My tears overflow. “That means she loves me?”

“It means she isyourtrue love.”

True love isn’t always returned, and the sorceress is one example of that. She loved my father enough that seeing him with someone else wrecked her, turning a harmless witch into a treacherous sorceress.

I understand the unspoken truth behind what Isa says. Ophelia may not love me in return, but it doesn’t matter. She is in danger. We were friends before we were anything more, and I would free any of my friends from such a horrendous place.

“Forget the curse,” I spit. “We’ll free her. The rest will have to wait.”

Isa seems to accept the answer, settling back and placing her clasped hands on her lap. “Then our journey continues.”

“Forget the curse?” Tibalt laughs bitterly. “How can we forget it? Do you not feel it, even now that the sun has risen?”

It’s a fair point. The curse is ravaging others I care for, and I’ve spent my life ruined by it. My parents are destroyed by it. Tibalt is right. Icannotforget the curse and must resume my attempts to break it.

But I’ll save Ophelia first. Queen or not, curse breaker or not, she’s a fae in my kingdom. I have a duty to her.

And… she is my friend. She will always be my friend.

“Ophelia deserves freedom,” I say. “We all do. Whether ornot it breaks the curse, she’s my true love, which means we are closer to ending the darkness. That counts.”

“It does,” Isa says. “Do not underestimate the power of love, princeling.”

Though she speaks to me, I have a feeling the comment is directed at Tibalt. Once upon a time, he and I agreed on romantic topics. He thought it was silly that I would be forced to marry for love, and we laughed at the idea of loving only one person.

Now, his silence speaks, but I don’t know what it says.

“We’ll rescue our friend,” he says. “You’re right. That’s what I would do for anyone. Hells, I would do it for you—despite how greatly you annoy me.”

I crack a halfhearted smile. Only Tibalt can make me grin when I want to rip each of my pretty hairs out of my scalp. “And I’d do the same for you.”

“You’d never get the chance.” He scoffs. “Not without me there to guide you.”

“Then it’s good that you are always by my side.”

Though I do not know where I am going or how powerful the sorceress I will face is, having my friend with me is ultimately what grounds me.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

OPHELIA

The door creaks open in the early morning, but we’ve been awake for hours.

There’s nothing to do but sit in silence, twisting in fear. The room is gutted of anything that made me who I am. My sewing machine is gone, and the books I once read are, too.

Helena turns her head abruptly, staring at the doorway.

I hope it’s my stepsisters, but I know it’s not. What little luck I was once afforded has run out.

Lady Ashbridge stands with a tray of food. It’s a scene that would have once been reversed; I’ve brought her many breakfasts in bed. Now, she brings the same for me: two cups of steaming tea, two shelled eggs, and loaves of bread. It is a fine breakfast, but I’ve become accustomed to sweet pastries and fresh fruit.

My stepmother is keeping us as prisoners, but it appears she doesn’t intend to starve us. Still, I’m suspicious, my nose curling as she sets down the tray.

Perhaps she plans to poison me.