Page 75 of Crown of the Courtesan

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Despite our best attempts, the night has grown late, and we’re no closer to opening the trunk.

Valora even retrieved the Eldertree Blacksmiths, who were probably weary of us by this point, but they also couldn’t do anything to open it, claiming they’d never seen such corrosion between metals.

Aware of how pointless this entire ordeal has become and fueled by overwhelming exhaustion, I yank one last time in futility. I fall back, landing with a jarring thud on my elbows before letting out a string of vulgar words that would’ve scandalized Madame Phyrne to an early grave.

Stretched on my bed, Valora snorts like a pig in her sleep.

I stare at the trunk. A suffocating outrage fills me when I think of how I won’t be able to complete this task after all—that Ashland will be vindicated in his assessment of me. An uncomfortable warmth heats around my ears, and I tug on the lock again because there’s nothing else I can do.

The metal sears against my palm.

With a startled gasp, I drop the lock, watching in awe as it melts straight through the corrosion—through the metal latch—bubbling and hissing. It drips down the trunk’s side, warping the metal and disintegrating part of the wood as it cools.

Power hums beneath my skin, and for a moment, I wonder if I should be terrified.

I violently shake Valora awake, causing her to let out another snorting gasp as her eyes spring open. “Wake up,” I say, my heart racing against my too-tight chest. “Come and look.”

She groggily squints in confusion. When she realizes what I’ve done, she jumps to her feet, her voice raspy. “I knew, if given enough time, you’d figure it out… but we’d better keep this to ourselves if we can. Ash will have a conniption if he discovers you used magic to destroy his mother’s trunk.”

“If he has a problem with it, then he can stay right where he is and enjoy the Sea-Witch’s forked tongue, for all I care.”

She chuckles conspiratorially before lifting the lid. Smoke and the lingering scent of burnt metal constrict my lungs. We waft the fumes through the open window before bringing the lit candelabrum closer—my stomach sinks.

The trunk sits empty.

“No, no, no!” I stomp my foot.

Valora’s eyebrows lift.

“There must be…” I trail off, examining every inch of the opened chest, running my fingers over the floral silk lining pinned to the interior. “Wait. Under here.” I poke at a minuscule hole in the fabric.

“We’ve already melted the trunk. Maybe we shouldn’t tear what’s left to shreds, too,” Valora cautions.

“There’s something in here.” I use my sharpened fingernail and rip the gash a smidge bigger. The threads make popping sounds. With the intention of asking for forgiveness later, I split the silk wide open. And just like I thought, a handful of yellowed missives drops out.

After carefully sorting through them on the bed, we are sorely disappointed to find that they contain only official correspondence from parties and fundraisers.

I tumble back onto my bed’s pillows, genuinely feeling at the end of my tether. Sleep-deprived, I stare at the late queen’s elegant handwriting on a letter where she requests her husband to procure more food and fabric for the villagers. I can’t help but wonder what type of woman she was or if she’d approve of how her son holds me captive against my will.

The full moon crests my window and shines through, illuminating the parchment in my hands—and that’s when I see it.

Between the lines, iridescent ink hides words of love.

“Valora!” I attempt to show her the letter. “Look what I found.” But once again, she is deep asleep, and all I can do is stare at the sparkling sentences a queen once wrote for her bonded husband:

My Beloved Gil,

No spell, no curse, no hate for what we are can break our bond. Return from the Battle of the Borealla, and we’ll be waiting for you: your child and I. The Oracle claims he’ll be a boy; I shall name him Gilderic, the same as you, because there isn’t a day that goes by that he doesn’t remind me of the love I hold for you.

Come back to me.

Come back to us.

Ever your devoted lady wife,

Juliette