Page 52 of Of Curses and Courtship

“Haven’t you seen his room?” I chuckle. “It’s a wreck.”

“He doesn’t usually allow the maids in,” Helena says.

“Because I don’t need anyone to clean up after me,” Emyr says.

“Yes”—Helena looks at him flatly—“you do.”

“He doesn’t wish us to be in his bedchamber, yetyoupushed me in there.” I shake my head. “It truly seems you hoped to get me in trouble, dear friend.”

Helena fluffs up her pillow and lies down, muttering under her breath, “Quite the opposite.”

Before I can ask what she means, Emyr steps back and opens the door. “I must go, but this was… well, thank you for allowing me into your lodgings.” His gaze lingers on me. “Sleep well, Miss Ophelia.”

I open my mouth to return the sentiment, but he’s gone too soon.

Helena hardly lets the door shut before she flies toward my bed. “You wretch!”

“What?” I whisper urgently. “Did I do something terribly wrong?”

“No, no… unless you consider stealing the prince’s heart to be wrong.”

“I do!” I shake my head and clutch the pillow, desperate to ground myself. “Of course, I do. He has a betrothed—and I’m a maid. Heavens above.”

This can’t be happening. If my feelings are discovered, I’ll surely be banished from the palace. I can’t lose anotherhome. That’s more important to me than whatever I may feel for Prince Emyr.

“I don’t want to hear it. That man desires you.”

“Perhaps I don’t desire him. Have you ever considered that?”

I am the one who lefthimat the ball, after all—but Helena can’t know that.

She tilts her head to the side and fixes me with a look of disbelief. “All right. When you’re ready to speak with honesty, I’ll be waiting.”

“You’ll be waiting for quite some time.” Despite my denial, my face is still hot when she finally stops pestering me.

Why, in the realms, did he come here? Just to speak to me? It is impossible.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

EMYR

“Where are we going?”

A healer leads me through a darkened corridor. Goose bumps cover my arms as the air of the untouched space leaves me chilled to the bone. It’s rare for me, or any other royal, to visit this wing.

Something is wrong. It must be.

The healer’s pale hands are clasped together. She doesn’t spare me a look as her shoes click against the stone floor. “To the infirmary.”

The infirmary was once a rarely used wing, but with the curse spreading, it’s become a terrifying place—one I avoid. Everyone does. The shadows are darker here, bringing me down with each step. Toward the end, I’m dragging my feet along.

It seems the healer is less affected by the shadows. Her black feathery wings tell me she’s from the Saturn Palace, a palace accustomed to the darkness and curses. While our ties to the palace are feeble, her nature makes her good at her job.

“This way,” she says.

I step inside, and my stomach curdles. No one here is ill—not really. They are cursed.Corrupt. If the curse were only to make our land darker and colder, that would be acceptable. It would be livable. I may miss the sun whenever I’m home, but I can live without it.

These poor fae cannot live at all.