Page 62 of Of Curses and Courtship

The healer looks at me with a level expression. “He is dead.”

I flinch, ever the coward. “Ah. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Do not apologize to me,” the healer says. “For I am still alive. For now.”

Spark is still living as well, but he appears to be hanging on by a thread. His eyes are bloodshot, his coat lacks its usual shine, and he snaps at the cage when we enter.

“Gods…” Tibalt’s expression finally shifts. His brows furrow, and his expression crumples. “That’s not the Spark I know.”

“Nor is it the one I know,” I murmur. “But he’s in there somewhere.”

“Chances are, he will never be that Spark again.” The healer clasps her hands together. “Not unless your wedding truly breaks this curse, Your Highness. I hear congratulations are in order.”

Tibalt gives her a nasty look. “Is that how you speak to a grieving fae?”

The healer doesn’t wince, nor does she flinch. She’s as calm and serene as can be. “I speak the truth.”

“At ease, Tibalt. She’s right.” I stand taller, staring at Spark and praying to the gods that he will show me something—a flicker of recognition.

He doesn’t. His tail swishes, as if he hopes to attack me, and I turn away.

“Let us hurry, Tibalt. We’ve other places to be.” I can’t remain here without becoming sick to my stomach. I can no longer look at Spark. I won’t be the cause of his suffering.

I will be the one who frees him, no matter what it takes.

OPHELIA

Magic is a cruel, tempting mistress. She rests just out of my reach, but I long to drag her close and bask in her warm embrace. Staying at the palace enhances the urge. Each time I feel someone’s emotions—whether it is the deep sorrow the prince carries, or Helena’s rambunctious joy—I’m more connected to myself than before.

Helena does well at helping me control my magic. When the blue orb appears at night, we practice switching to other emotions. After weeks of practice, it feels simple to do.

But there is still so much to learn. Theremustbe more. When can I grant a wish? Or open a portal? Or read a mind?

“Have ye tried moon bathing?” Helena asks, plopping herself onto my bed.

I look up from the book on my lap and lift a brow. “I suppose I should know what that is?”

“Perhaps not.” She shrugs. “I heard the other Moon Fae talking about it. They claim that basking in the moon’s light helps their powers grow.”

I hesitate and then nod. “Hm… then I should go for a stroll tonight, then. Is that all there is to it?”

“As far as I know. You’d have to ask the others.”

But I would rather find out for myself.

A blanket of darkness wraps around me that evening as I stroll through the gardens.

It’s a good night for a late-night walk, I think. The moon is bright, even if it’s not yet full. The lack of fullness means the other Moon Fae are, thankfully, not here to bother me. I’m trying to grow my powers, but showing my gifts to those who have been practicing for years would be embarrassing.

Being under the moonisrevitalizing. I peer up at the silver globe and hold out my hands, hoping I can soak the energy into my bare skin. Perhaps it does nothing at all. It’s hard to say, but I can’t deny that it makes me feel better. Power grows in my chest, a strength I have never been able to hold. I stand taller, and silver glitter sparkles on my hands.

I inhale through my nose, my eyes flickering shut.

“You shouldn’t be out alone, little halfling.”

A smooth voice rouses me from my relaxing moment, even though it is someone I recognize.

I open an eye. “Do you mean to threaten me, Your Highness?”