A Curse So Dark and Lonely: Chapter 20
I stand at the window, just inside the sheer curtain, and watch. My cloak and armor sit abandoned on the table by the door, and the cool breeze bites at my skin. I ignore it. I enjoy it, in fact. After so many seasons of temperate warmth, cold air remains a novelty.
The open window allows me to listen.
I cannot hear every word. But I can hear enough.
Guarding Rhen. Do you think he’s worth the sacrifice?
Time will tell.
“Prince Rhen.” Lilith’s voice, light and almost mocking, speaks from beside me. “What is happening outside that holds you so rapt?”
I should not be surprised that she would follow me here, that she would choose this very moment, when my chance at success seems most bleak.
I have little patience for her. As I said to Grey, this is our final season, and that invites boldness.
Then again, speaking freely to Lilith will likely carry far more consequence than Grey speaking freely to me. I wish I had not removed my armor.
I do not move from the window. “See for yourself.”
She shifts to stand beside me. She smells elegant, something exotic and alluring. A scent meant to draw attention. I fell for it once.
She presses her hands together. “A lesson in weaponry. How charming of Grey to patronize her.”
My jaw is tight. She doesn’t need to taunt me. My own thoughts are doing it quite thoroughly. I wonder if Grey offered to teach Harper how to throw—or if she asked.
My guard commander’s words from early this morning haunt me now. My lord, I did nothing. I sat down and asked.
I want to slam the window closed.
“Oh, look!” Lilith claps her hands, delighted. “Your girl is getting better. Commander Grey must be an excellent teacher.”
This has not escaped my notice. Harper seems to have discovered the feel for it, because now she lands more than she misses. Grey seems pleased. Harper seems pleased.
I am not pleased.
“Oh! I have had the most wonderful idea, Your Highness.” Lilith feigns a gasp. “If you are unable to earn her love, perhaps you could find her a position in the Royal Guard. She lacks experience, but Commander Grey seems capable of educating her.” Lilith puts a finger to her mouth. “But I have forgotten. By the end of this season, there may no longer be a Royal Guard. Ah. Troubling.”
“Do you have some purpose here, Lady Lilith?”
“I am intrigued that you would waste your final season in this little inn, when you have an entire palace at your disposal.”
I have an entire palace where I am forced to listen to the same music over and over again, to watch the same shadows crawl along the wall, to smell and taste the same foods.
The inn may be small and simple, but right now I much prefer it to Ironrose.
Lilith runs a finger along the windowsill. No dirt clings to her finger. “I must say the innkeeper does a marvelous job keeping the lodgings clean.”
“I will pass on your comments, my lady.”
“You are in such a sour mood.” She gives a disappointed sigh. “It is no wonder she seeks companionship with your guardsman.”
“It is no wonder,” I agree.
Lilith says nothing to that, and we stand in silence for a while.
Harper truly has improved. She lands three in a row.
“Your Highness,” Lilith says quietly, leaning toward me, her voice conspiratorial. “What do you intend to do about the terrible rumors of an invasion from the north?”
My shoulders tense. “You know how rumors can be. It’s so difficult to separate them from fact.”
“True, true.” She sighs. “Though I do believe it to be a fact that your soldiers stationed at the mountain pass were eviscerated months ago. It was really quite brutal to watch, especially in the summertime. You know what heat does to a dead body—though I must say the soldiers from Syhl Shallow loathe wasting meat of any kind, and made quick work of—”
I round on her. “Are you behind this?”
“Me?” She laughs. “No. Why would I need to be? When soldiers fall, their king should send reinforcements. When their king does not, who can blame a rival force for exploiting such weakness?”
The true tragedy here is that she’s right. I suppose I should count myself lucky that we are not under attack from all sides.
Then again, perhaps we are.
“Do you truly hate me so much?” I ask her. “That you find entertainment in the destruction of my kingdom?”
She looks up at me and any mockery slides off her face. “Prince Rhen. Is that what you think?” She reaches up and puts her hand against my face. “I wanted you to love me. We could have made a formidable pair.”
My people once feared the actions my father would take against them. I cannot imagine submitting them to the frivolous violence Lilith seems to enjoy.
“Surely you would be happier with one of your own kind.” I sigh wistfully. “A pity they’re all dead.”
She snatches her hand away. “You seek to wound me.”
If only I could. My voice is flat. “Forgive me.”
“Your words are worthless, anyway. I am not the only one of my kind left.”
I swing my head around to look at her.
She laughs. “Do you think you could find them? That they would somehow free you from my curse?”
Before that thought can take root in my mind, she sighs. “I have failed to locate them, so you would have no chance.” She flexes her hand in the air before her. “But I can feel the web of magic. It does not end with me.”
Somewhere in Emberfall, another magesmith may lie in wait for his or her own chance at revenge on my family. They’ll have to get in line—if there’s anything left of me.
“You disappoint me,” Lilith says. “I never thought you would let this curse drag on as long as you have.”
I cannot argue. I disappoint myself.
“I cannot wait to see how your monster manifests this season,” she says. “Perhaps I will keep you on a chain and put you on display for my enemies.”
A sudden chill grips my spine. This is an outcome I have never considered.
“Would you like that?” she says, moving closer again. “Mine for all eternity, Prince Rhen?”
“No,” I say. “I would not.” I have very little sense of myself once the change overtakes me, but the thought of being at her mercy even then is nearly enough to crush me.
She sighs. “You were such fun once. Honestly, visiting you feels like quite the chore lately.”
“I would not be offended if you stopped.”
She laughs lightly. The sound is like glass shards being ground underfoot. “Until later, Your Highness.” She gives me a low curtsy and disappears.
I scowl and turn back to the window. Harper is landing every throw now. Grey is a good teacher.
That gives me an idea.
My boots crunch through the slush as I cross the inn’s courtyard toward the stable, Lilith’s taunts echoing in my head.
Grey notices me first and straightens. His expression gives away nothing—but then it never does. “My lord.”
I glance at him. “Commander.”
Harper turns, two knives remaining in her hand. Her eyes cut right into me. “I think I’m ready for a target, Grey.”
Clearly, she is still in a pique.
My temperament right now makes for a good match. “Do you believe I’d have cause to worry, my lady?”
Her expression darkens. “Hold still. Let’s see.” Then she draws back a hand.
Grey catches her wrist. He looks annoyed.
Her eyes are locked on mine. The anger there is unmistakable, but it’s laced with hurt, which is much more telling.
“Let her go.” I hold her gaze. “She will not throw a knife at me.”
Grey does. Harper lowers her arm.
I know when to call a bluff.
She frowns and slides the knife hilts together in her hand. “Did you just come out here to insult me?”
“No,” I say.
“Oh, so you’re going to order Grey to do something inane so he stops talking to me. Got it.”
Well, I am most certainly not going to do that now. I consider Grey’s comments about the card game and wonder if I have been looking at this moment the wrong way. “No, my lady. May I join you?”
She falters, surprised. She recovers quickly, though, and extends the two knives in her hand. Some of the anger and hurt has leaked out of her demeanor. “Sure. Here.”
Now I’m surprised. And pleased.
But then she says, “My arm feels like it’s going to fall off. I’m going back inside. Is it okay if I take the room for a little bit?”
There’s a part of me that wants to demand that she stay. That part of me feels small and jealous and I do not like it.
I have to make myself nod. “Certainly.”
She turns to my guard commander and gives him a smile. “Thanks for the lesson, Scary Grey.”
He says nothing. Grey’s no fool.
Then, without a backward glance, she turns and walks to the inn, her left foot shuffling through the slush.
Every word I want to say feels petty.
The silence fills with expectant tension. I remember this tension from before, when my guardsmen anticipated a rebuke—or worse.
I consider the way my nurse once spoke about my father, and I wonder what my guards once said about me.
It would not have been good. I know that much.
“Commander,” I say.
“My lord.” His voice gives away nothing, but he expects an order to do something grueling or torturous. I can tell.
“Considering what we’ve seen, if you had to assemble a contingent of guards, how many would you need?” I hold out the throwing knives Harper handed to me.
He frowns as he slides them into the sheaths on his bracers, as if trying to map the direction of this question. “For what purpose?”
“For me to be able to walk among the people. To make my presence known.” I pause. “Harper’s presence as well.”
He says nothing. He expects a trap.
“Do you have a number or not?” I say.
“I do. Forty-eight.”
“Forty-eight!”
“Your personal guard was once half that, not including castle guards.” His tone borders between frustrated and curious. “One must allow time for training, and drills, as well as alternating schedules to ensure vigilance—”
“Fine.” I raise a hand. “Could you find and train forty-eight new guards before the change overtakes me?”
“Presuming … what? Six weeks? Seven? If we had an army and I could choose from among skilled warriors—maybe. As things stand now? Unlikely.” He pauses. “Why?”
“How many do you think you could find and train?”
“If you wish to order me to stay away from the Lady Harper, you need not create diversions—”
“That’s not what I’m doing. How many?”
“I have no idea.” His expression turns incredulous. “I have been confined to the castle with you. I have no sense of the state of the people aside from the few we’ve encountered.” He raises a hand to point at the inn. “Do you wish me to enlist children? Perhaps the infant will display a talent for swordplay.”
I level him with a look. “Watch your tone, Commander. I seek your counsel, not your contempt.”
“If you seek my counsel, then I need to understand what you hope to accomplish.”
“Those men assumed I was dead. The people think the royal family has abandoned them. I want to be able to walk among my people and show them I still live, that this is still my kingdom.”
“But—for what purpose? Your obligation is to Harper—”
“No. My obligation is to the people of Emberfall.” I take a step forward. “And your obligation is to me.”
He does not back down. “As always.”
The wind whistles between us, and I bite back a shiver. “Could you do it or not?”
“Even if I could find individuals willing to serve—which is doubtful, given what we’ve learned—and even if we cut that number by half, there is no way they could be effective at providing any kind of unified defense in a matter of weeks.”
He’s right. Of course he’s right. “What if we do not concern ourselves with defense?”
He frowns. “Forgive me, but—”
“What if we fake it?”
Grey looks as though I’ve completely lost my mind. He might not be too far off the mark. “So—to be clear—you wish for me to recruit individuals to the Royal Guard, outfit them with weapons and uniforms, and … what? Allow them to accompany you into the masses with a bare modicum of training?”
“Yes! Exactly that.”
His eyes narrow. “And this is not a diversion?”
“Do I have need to create a diversion, Commander?”
Grey does not look away. “No.” He pauses. “You have a plan, then?”
I have the shadow of a plan. The barest glimmer of a plan. “Yes. Could you do it? Could you create the impression of a functioning guard?”
“I suppose.” His words are cautious. “What happens if you are truly at risk?”
I imagine it, riding into the more populated cities, people crowding near. I haven’t done such a thing in ages. The people of Emberfall are hungry and desperate. The very idea is akin to insanity. To suicide.
But what difference does it make? I have nothing left to lose.
“That’s why I have you.”
He looks taken aback.
I clap him on the shoulder before turning for the inn. “You did say you prefer to be useful, did you not?”