Page 103 of Of Curses and Courtship

The queen sniffs and looks down her nose. “I suppose that’s why you are rushing your betrothal, and so soon after he ended the betrothal with dear Princess Minetta?”

My lips part, but no sound escapes.

“Youare the reason we are rushing,” Emyr drawls. “Or did you forget?”

“Ah, yes.” The queen smiles coldly. “I suppose I had forgotten.”

“And is this not in your best interest?” Emyr says, his voice taut. “In the best interest of us all—everyone but Ophelia and me, actually. Do you not think I would prefer a more private courtship? That is a luxury I have not been afforded.”

While he does not say it aloud, everyone in the room knows what he truly means to say. Our betrothal must follow such a rapid path because of his father’s past dalliances. I watch Emyr from the corner of my eye.

The king clears his throat. “Emyr is right. If we can take care of this curse business, the details don’t matter. I’m pleased to bless your union, so long as you are married on the harvest moon.”

Yet, it doesn’t feel like a blessing at all.

“We will be,” I say evenly.

“Well…” The queen sighs. “Onto our first course, then. I look forward to getting to know you better.”

She may be looking forward to it, but I can hardly bear the thought.

EMYR

Dinner goes as well as one can expect. My parents ask Ophelia countless questions, and to my surprise, she dodges most of them. Only once we leave do I realize that she knows everything about me, and I have much more to learn about her.

Of course, the real problem is that we’re keeping secrets from my family—like the secret of her being a halfling. They’re believers in the prophecy, and while the role of the halfling is only vaguely stated, I’m sure they won’t want to take any chances.

I’m more hopeful. The prophecy states the halfling will bring ruin, but what if she brings ruin to the curse itself?

Voicing it aloud is too optimistic.

Ophelia groans as we wander upstairs. “That was dreadful.”

Without asking, she’s invited herself to my bedchamber, and while some might find it improper, I certainly have no complaints. We have already been quite inappropriate by those people’s standards.

“I didn’t expect anything less.” I chuckle. “For what it’s worth, you did a wonderful job… and it went a bit better than expected. They seem to agree to our courtship rather than forcing me to end it. That is something.”

Her eyes widen, and she stops on top of the staircase, turning to look at me. “Do you truly think they would do that?”

“It’s hard to say. My parents make little sense to me. I’ve always known that to break the curse, I would have to marry for love. Now I find love, and they seem suspicious of it.”

She lifts a shoulder and turns away, continuing until she reaches my bedchamber. “Someone who didn’t choose love may think it’s strange to witness one who does.”

This may be an opportunity to learn more about her. The question is poised on my lips, but it feels trapped there as I struggle with the fear of pushing her away.

“What about your parents?” I ask. “Did they marry for love?”

She freezes. “I don’t know. My mother passed away when I was a babe, and my father barely spoke of her. Perhaps that level of heartbreak means he loved her, but I can’t say.”

Though I yearn to know more about her, I take what little she gives me and hold on tight. It’s something—a flicker, a beginning. We’re both learning to navigate true love, but I don’t doubt that sheismy truest love.

“I see.” I open my bedchamber door. “Are you joining me for the evening, then?”

“Yes.” Her cheeks darken. “That is to say, I would like to… if you will have me.”

“You’re welcome whenever you would like.” I’m relieved not to spend the evening alone.

Any new courtship lacks a stable foundation, and my parents’ interference does little to help matters. Ophelia is likely unaccustomed to the poking and prodding that comes with being part of a royal family. I long to protect her, even if loving me is what thrusts her so gracelessly into such scrutiny.