Page 142 of Of Curses and Courtship

I’m not doing this for me, for my life. This is for Emyr. This is revenge; I’m not better than the sorceress.

A curse of my own.

Lady Ashbridge falls to the ground, just as he did. She’s in the dirt where she belongs. I pluck the dagger between two fingers, holding it precariously, unlike how I grip her magic.

“Your magic is what keeps you alive after all this time, isn’t it?” I press my boot to her skull. “Don’t answer that. It doesn’t matter. It’s what keeps the curse alive, yes?”

“Please,” she whimpers. “Let me free. I will break the curse.”

Perhaps I could. Maybe I should trust her.

But no.

With a single glance at Emyr’s lifeless, bloody form, I make my choice.

“No, thank you.” When I press my foot into her skull, she crumbles to dust. Expired. “I’ll do it myself.”

EMYR

Ophelia will be the last thing I see, and though her face is full of terror, it’s a lovely image to die with.

Death is surprisingly peaceful once the pain subsides. Pain is nothing. I may be weak, but I can handle it. Knowing she may follow me to death is the most challenging part to accept, even once the hurt subsides.

Where I am is not quite death, though. No gods greet me. I’m nowhere. I’m everywhere. Everything. Floating.

Their voices ring in my ears. Minetta shouts instructions I don’t understand, and Ophelia sobs—but she listens. She’s doing something. She is…

With a sudden yank and a jolt, I’m brought back to my body. The pain returns as well, unlike anything I’ve felt. Iclutch my side, only to find that Ophelia’s warm hands are already there, pressing.

Her eyes are full of tears. She’s splattered in dirt, mud, and ash, as though she rose from the cinders. Rain falls onto her drenched curls. Helena and her sisters stand close behind, all three holding each other as if they are old friends.

Only Minetta is alone, quivering a foot away from us.

“Little halfling.” I crack a smile and wipe Ophelia’s tears away with a weak hand—or perhaps it is the rain that coats her face. It’s hard to say. “Why are you crying?”

“Because you?—”

“I’m either alive, or you all died with me.” I groan. “That would be a terrible fate. Almost as terrible as being brought back to life with a stab wound.”

She chokes out a laugh. “Emyr! Heavens, we must find a healer.”

“Your love has already healed me.” I try to sit, but she pushes me back down. “I love you.”

“And I love you, you foolish man.”

Her lips on mine bring me back to life for a second time.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

OPHELIA

“You freed me,” Minetta murmurs.

Are any of us free? It’s so surreal.

We stand in the middle of the healer’s home—an old witch I’ve known since childhood. She would’ve hated me before, when the town was under Lady Ashbridge’s spell, but today, she greeted me with a hug and a cup of tea.

Every spell Lady Ashbridge cast is no more. But Emyr is still in grave danger.