Page 84 of Of Curses and Courtship

The feelings ravage the poor man, but he’s still here—his fear, beneath the corruption, is still so present. So alive, and so close to human.

Tibalt draws his sword, but the cursed driver lunges at Emyr before he can act. My body acts of its own accord. I step between them, my hand held out to press against the man’s chest. The black sludge flows onto my arm, soiling the dress Helena made me. I focus on the feeling.

Under the revenge, it is…

It’s only heartbreak, isn’t it?

My pulse races. I take that feeling between my fingertips and break it.

Emyr falls onto his back. Tibalt falters, something a warrior should never do. My next action feels natural to me, an instinct to pluck the heartbreak from the man. A smoky spirit ascends from the driver’s head, floating into the sky. It may leave us. I may have done something after all, as Emyr hoped I could.

But the energy changes.

It sharpens. It drives toward me, wildly searching for a new host.

I cry out, but I am ready to embrace my fate. Better this than bring ruin to the land.

The driver jumps in front of me, accepting the curse again. He looks at me with eyes of sorrow, as the sludge fills his poor soul, heavier this time.

I clutch my chest.

Emyr places a tentative hand on my shoulder.

My attention is on Tibalt’s shining eyes as he runs a sword through the poor driver’s chest.

The driver collapses backward, smiling. “Thank you. I can’t… can’t live knowing that pain…”

His breathing slows. Sludge and blood pool on the ground. The curse doesn’t arise from him again; it doesn’t come toward me. Though there is sorrow in the air, there is peace.

That does nothing to stop the tears from rolling down my face. “What is his name?”

“What?” Tibalt asks, shaking his head.

“His name. I must know the name of the man who saved me.”

“Lief,” Tibalt says. “And Lief was a good man.”

A single tear spills over my rounded cheek.

“Ophelia?” Emyr’s voice holds urgency. He kneels before me, his hands resting on my face. “You saved me. Do you realize what you have done?”

“No.” I shake my head. “Youdid this. I—I learned from the books you gave me.”

“No. This wasyou. You removed the corruption from a high fae.” His eyes widen in awe and despair. “You may be able to save Spark.”

Emyr is wrong. I can’t hear these compliments, and I don’t deserve them. There must be more I can do—more to save this land and the fae—but I don’t dare.

Lief is dead, and Spark can’t face the same fate.

My chin trembles, and my knees press into the ground. “Yet he still died. I didnothing.”

“No. Don’t speak about yourself that way. You saved me—you manipulated the curse. How? We’ve tried everything.Everything. How did you…?”

My heart beats in my ears. “I don’t know. Forgive me.”

Emyr remains by my side, his hands still on me. His fingers press into my shoulders, and it brings back a memoryof the night before, when I stared at his lips and hoped to have a taste…

He didn’t give me one. It was foolish, even terrible, to want it.