Page 30 of Of Curses and Courtship

“That is terrible,” Isa murmurs. “I’m sorry, dear one. If there is any way I can help…”

“You have already helped quite enough.”

“Don’t sound so bitter. I was only giving you the wishes of your heart—those are the only wishes I can grant, you know.”

I scowl at her. As much as I want to remain polite with my savior, I can’t. Anger bubbles in the pit of my stomach, threatening to spill from my mouth. “Is this truly what my heart wants? To have no home? No friends? No family?”

“You know that isn’t what your heart wants, but was Far Water truly your home?”

My heart sinks deeper, enough that it’s practically trailing on the ground behind us, and I worry we’ll leave it there. What’s the use? My heart has no place in the world I have crossed into—one of survival, of running.

“It once was,” I murmur, “but that was before my father died.”

“I see.” For the first time since we’ve met, she frowns, wrinkles forming around her mouth. “Please, allow me to help?—”

Doesn’t she understand? Her help is what led me to exile.

I shake my head. “I don’t think a wish is what I need right now, thank you.”

“Not with a wish.” She chuckles. “There’s far more I can do, and this will not take magic at all. There is somewhere else for you to go—somewhere you won’t have to hide who you are.”

Is there truly a place like that for me?

Hope blossoms like a spring flower, but I shouldn’t let it. This desire for something greater is one I can’t trust, and one I haven’t felt in so long. Hope chases me, pushing me, though I long for it to let me be.

Yet, I ask, “Where do you think I should go, Madam?”

CHAPTER EIGHT

OPHELIA

I’m standing outside the Sun Palace. This can’t be real.

A blanket of clouds hangs above Isa and me, taunting, threatening to pour rain over us. We’re not far from the ocean, but the weather is wrong for swimming. A chill in the air sends goose bumps across my arms, prickling up the back of my neck.

A pixie floats by lazily, hardly able to carry herself on her wings. Beneath a tree rests a man-eyed frog, but it does not croak. Aside from the two guards standing in front of the castle door, there are no high fae in sight.

“I always imagined it would be brighter here,” I murmur.

“It once was.” Isa bows her head. “You should have seen it before, but alas. You would not have been born yet. Come along.”

The stories I heard of the Sun Palace reminded me of sunlight leaking through windows, fresh green grass, and everything encrusted in gold. Instead, I’m greeted with light, stony walls and shadows that cast the world into darkness.

It’s too similar to the place I once called home, but theenergy here feels darker, even more than I am used to. I repress a shudder.

“What did it look like before?”

“Warm and sunny, as one would imagine.”

I can hardly believe that now.

We step inside, and the shadows remain, but the signs of what once was are present as well. Gold-framed art, thick oil paintings in layers: portraits and landscapes far more beautiful than the outside world. Gold-dripped chandeliers, towering copper statues, and flickering candlelight. Even in the dark, cool energy of the curse, it’s stunning.

I run my hands over my wrinkled morning dress, but it’s useless. Nothing can make me more presentable in the dark opulence of these halls. “I’m out of place, aren’t I?”

“You’re fine.” She squeezes my shoulder. “Let us retire to my bedchamber. We can get you cleaned up, and then we will speak with Lucille. You’re lucky I am such a good friend with the head of staff.”

“I suppose I am.” Lucky is not the right word for me. Not today. How can I be solucky, and yet not? Decidedly not.