Page 40 of Not Another Happily Ever After

And Frog rides, atop his black steed, just out of view.

On theoppositeside of the carriage.

Chapter

16

I was mistaken.

She is not merely the love of my life.

She is love. She is life.

Dire Shire is exactly as one would imagine a small town to be if one had the imagination of a depraved, lawless simpleton.

We walk behind the carriage, single file on the uneven cobblestone road, the only one in working condition. Working is a generous term here. The graying buildings on either side lean inward as if held together by spite, their tall, rickety frames worn by the passage of time and neglect.

Many of the arched windows are blown out or boarded up, but a few still glow with candlelight, revealing what little remains of this once strong settlement. Once proud citizens have now turned to silent watchers hidden behind tattered curtains and corroded railings.

And that smell. Faintly metallic with undercurrents of mildew. I hold my stomach to keep the horror churning in its pit from spilling up onto the dampened road.

“How?” I suck in a strangled breath. “How?—”

Merrek places his warm palm on my trembling shoulder, the silence between us louder than any spoken words.

Because he knows the answer. He knows I’m to blame for leaving the curse’s final act unanswered all these years. And in an act of kindness, he spares me from having to hear the words said aloud.

We reach the town’s emptied center, where dark figures skulk in the shadows, watching us with weary eyes as we approach the only stall still standing. The others have either turned to ash or been pieced apart by scavengers and thieves. My stomach growls at the prospect of a meal, unaccustomed to going without—something I fear these people are all too familiar with if the three empty baskets sitting before a tired table are any testament of the hardships here.

“So much has changed since last I’d been here,” Rhidland murmurs, as if lost to a memory of a place and people who once stood where we do.

He’s on edge, as are the others. I don’t miss the way the knights close in around me, tightening the space between us. I’d assumed it was for fear I would wander off, or get lost, but now?

I realize how sorely I was mistaken.

The lingering shadows take form, venturing closer and closer to our carriage, like their hunger is driving them to consider risking the very life they’re trying to satiate.

“I am sorry, my lady. I shouldn’t have brought you here. This is not— these are not the people I remember.” He shakes his head in disbelief.

The knights draw their blades, a clear warning to stay back. But the shadows are undeterred. The promise of a swift death is perhaps just as enticing as a full belly.

The backs of my eyes burn for them, for the pain they surely must feel.

A mother steps forward, out of the fold, carrying a too-thin child ever closer to the sharp point of Wolfe’s blade.

He stands, unmoving.

I, however, cannot.

Rhidland may have been right about one thing. This is not the kingdom it once was. But thesearemy people.

I must do something.I take a single shaky step forward, pulse pounding in my ears.

I know I don’t have the means to help these people. Nor do I have the power. But I will not leave them abandoned in their suffering.

The silty gravel crackles beneath my slippers as I take another shaky step forward, away from the carriage’s shadow, toward the moonlit courtyard.

I will not look away from the horrors of the realm to keep my own heart from breaking.Let it.Let it bleed for all the tears they’ve wept.I grab the long, winding end of my neck’s ribbon, clutching it in my fist as I suck in a deep breath, preparing to slip between where the twins’ backs have turned.