Page 53 of Of Curses and Courtship

This is the other side of the curse, the side not many can witness. Fae may be conniving and tricky on occasion, but we’re not bloodthirsty. This curse… it changes the very nature—not of higher fae, but of the common ones, which were once plentiful.

These poor beings are caged, ravenous, snapping at the bars. They are kept here for their good and the safety of everyone else. That’s what my father tells me, but it does little to ease my guilt.

This is not an infirmary at all. It’s a prison, and one that is needed. If it weren’t for this place, all these fae would be killed—or become the ones doing the killing. These poor, out-of-control creatures are the reasons for the deaths of mortals and fae alike.

A brownie with wrinkled skin and pointed ears snarls at me from behind his bars. He wears only a simple cloth to cover his petite form. “Let me out, princeling. We shall see how strong you are when this iron is not weakening me.”

That explains how exhausted I am. My hands shake, only partially from anticipation of what may come next. I hardly want to breathe in the dusty air—and I hardly can, each breath harsh and forced.

My heart thumps erratically in my weak chest. “Is that…?”

“Yes.” The healer nods stiffly. “A harmless kitchen fae turned into a killer. He was found covered in blood.”

I shudder. “Why did you bring me here, Miss?”

It feels cruel to force anyone to be here, although she does it for her work. Perhaps we shouldn’t makeanyonecome down here. There must be another way…

If I can’t break the curse, I can find a way to cure the corruption. This is why I study the arcane. There must be something, even if I have not uncovered it yet—some sort of alchemy or magic I can learn.

“Because someone you care about is here,” she says plainly. “Come along. He is in a private suite.”

“What…? Who?”

My heart races. Only mundane fae have been harmed by corruption so far, but what if that’s changed? What if my father goes on a murderous rampage? What if Tibalt tries to lodge a knife in my back?

Who is waiting for me?

Rather than answering me aloud, she leads me to the back; it’s no prettier here. Cobwebs hang in the corner, telling me thissuite, as she called it, is not used often. In the middle of the cell, larger than the last, lies Spark. But it’s not the Spark I know, and he’s not at rest. His ears are folded back. His tail swishes menacingly, sharpening into a point.

He’s been known to hiss occasionally, but it’s nothing like how he snarls at me now—as if I’m a stranger.

I clutch the wall. My ears ring.

“Your highness?” the healer says, though I barely hear her. “What would you like to do about this?”

“Me?” I yelp. “WhatamI to do? I don’t understand. I’m not a healer.”

“He is your companion, is he not?”

It’s too much like what happened with Carwyn. I’m losing him again. Spark growls at me from the cage, but I don’t see him.

Bones. I am staring at my brother’s bones once more.

“Yes.” I clutch my chest. “Yes, of course, he is.”

“Then you must make a decision.”

Even with my old friend behind bars, put there for his safety and mine, he’s still my friend. He growls at me like hehates me, but there must be a part of him that longs for help. He needs me to save him.

I’m the only one who can save him.

“What are my choices?” I ask, dreading the answer.

“Would you prefer him to stay in this cage, or shall we put him out of his misery?”

Tears blur my vision. I can hardly see as I turn to look at the healer, my brows furrowing. “We will be doing no such thing! There must be another way.”

“There is not. Those are the options.”