Page 68 of Of Curses and Courtship

It’s as if he can read my mind, plucking out thoughts I’ve had late in the evening, when the quiet settles over the palace and my thoughts begin to race. He doesn’t understand that I’m mourning more than my father, but my home and stepsisters as well.

I hope they’re all right.

“Yes,” I murmur, “it remains.”

“I—” Emyr seems to find a book interesting. He picks it up and riffles through the pages. “Idoknow something about mourning, you know.”

My expression softens. “Do you?”

“I lost my brother. It was many decades ago, but the loss is still fresh.” His gaze lifts to mine. “As I said, you can take your time to mourn. I certainly have.”

My heart catches in my throat, and I step closer. “Thank you. I didn’t know about your brother.”

“Most do not speak of it.”

“There is much that goes unspoken in this kingdom.”

Since arriving at the Sun Palace, this is the most I’ve said about myself. I’ve given Emyr something real, something that matters. The prince isn’t supposed to be my confidant, but it’s too easy to open my heart and pour it all out for him.

“I suppose you’re right.” He smiles wryly. “What is it like to live as a faerie in a mortal land? I can’t imagine it.”

“It was…” I chuckle beneath my breath. “Well, shall we just say that I am happy to be here?”

“I am happy to have you here as well.”

I finally meet his gaze again. His cool irises are cool, but there is warmth within his expression, and I feel it to the core of my being.

My heart thumps faster.

I can no longer keep this secret. It’s selfish, but I need him to know it was me he wanted on the night of his ball, even if it won’t change our circumstances. The burden is too heavy. I can’t live with another thing haunting me at night.

“Your Highness,” I say, “I?—”

“Emyr?” A cheery voice cuts through the room, silencing me with ease—his betrothed.

Princess Minetta fixes him with a sickeningly sweet smile. The realm shatters around me and the dreams I allowed myself to have, just for a moment, splinter into tiny pieces. She gazes at him with such great affection, her eyes softening as soon as she glances at him. Such love—it can’t be faked, can it? Perhaps itwasher he danced with at the ball.

“I must go,” I mutter.

“Wait—”

Although Emyr wants me to remain, I can’t give him what he wants. His life is with the princess now, and it has always been. I can no longer deny that.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

EMYR

Ineed her. I want her. I must stay away from her.

My blossoming feelings for the cursed and lovely Ophelia are the one thing that may ruin my chance at saving my friend and my kingdom. How could she wrap herself around my little finger? How could she make me adore her like I do?

If I break this curse on my own, without the wedding, then I can do something… say something. That is what I’ll focus on.

Even my dreams do not want me with her. Carwyn haunts each night, warning me, begging me to stay away from the halfling.

How can I? The sparkle in her eye is a north star guiding me home—home to a place beyond these palace walls, a place that is not tangible. At the very least, she’s my friend, and she’s a great comfort to me in this frigid palace.

No. I must stay away.