A Curse So Dark and Lonely (The Cursebreaker Series Book 1)

A Curse So Dark and Lonely: Chapter 42



Karis Luran travels with few guards and servants. Her entourage is nearly nonexistent.

Grey and I stand in a high window and watch her carriage rattle into the courtyard. Four guards, two at the front, two at the back. Her guardsmen wear black armor trimmed with green and black, with a steel shield obscuring the lower half of their faces. They carry rapiers, lighter swords favored in the north. They’re quick and vicious and deadly. Her guardsmen look that way, too.

The vehicle is covered with green silk, the horses adorned with silver bells that jingle along the harness. The carriage windows are blocked with gauzy white material that flutters in the breeze. We cannot see in—but Karis Luran can surely see out. My own soldiers line the courtyard, but many are new. Untested. So much of today’s success lies in the actions of others.

Though … I suppose it was always so. Even for my father. I never truly realized.

“Only four guards,” Grey says to me, his voice low. “Revealing weakness?”

“No.” I nod down at the carriage stopping before the castle. “She believes she has nothing to fear.” My original plan was to have her and her entourage welcomed into the Great Hall to wait there for me. A small show of superiority—something my father would have done.

But if she has arrived with such a small traveling party, she has already thrown down the gauntlet of superiority.

Think on my feet, indeed.

“Come,” I say to Grey. “We must meet her.”

I cannot control what music plays in the Great Hall, what food will be arranged on the tables, but today, the melody is light and lively, harp and flute played low, background music for an early-morning gathering. The ladies of the castle have gone to work to make things more festive. For the first time, cascades of autumn colors hang from the rafters and adorn the tables, dark greens and rusted browns and muted gold. The long carpet that leads all the way to the staircase has been exchanged for a newer one trimmed in vibrant gold and red. As I stride across the floor, the guards we have stationed at the base of the staircase move to follow. Grey signals for them to stay in place.

If she can enter my castle with four guards, I can face her with one.

My heart beats against my rib cage like a chained beast that wants to escape. I have nothing left to live for, but my people—they do. This is my final chance to protect them.

The guards at the door move to swing it open when I approach. As the wood shifts and creaks, I want to call for them to wait.

As always, I want to beg for more time.

Oh, Harper. Midnight. I don’t think it will be soon enough.

I know it won’t. The scales under my clothing catch and pull at the fabric.

The doors open. Cool autumn air streams into the Great Hall.

Karis Luran stands on the marble just outside the door, dressed in robes of green and ivory silk that trail behind her along the ground. A band of silver sits against the creamy skin of her forehead, gleaming in the early-morning light, disappearing under a spill of bloodred hair. She is not beautiful, but she is striking. Her eyes are darkly gold, which would imply some kind of warmth, but there is no kindness in her gaze. She commands the attention of everyone in the room immediately. This is a woman who can order her army to slaughter people by the hundreds—and has.

Her four guards form a square around her. They’re all matched for height, though none are very tall. They’re more leanly built, too, though thick with armor. The tight band of steel covering the lower halves of their faces turns them all androgynous—which is somehow intimidating.

Mind games. I know this. I’m better than this.

I bow. “Karis Luran,” I begin warmly. “Welcome to Emberfall.”

She meets my eyes, then glances away dismissively. When she speaks, her voice is sharply accented, but the words are perfectly clear.

“Fetch your father, boy.”

Every word is an insult in a different way.

Fetch.

Your father.

Boy.

Emberfall has effectively been under my rule since the change began and I slaughtered my family—for all the tragedy that has unfolded, some good has transpired, too. Those changes are right here in the Great Hall with me, standing at my back, ready to fight, if necessary. I have arranged meetings with nobles. City leaders. When I fall—and I will fall, whether at Grey’s hand or my own—Emberfall will not be lost. My army is small, but they are willing to fight. For the first time in my life, I feel a spark of pride in who I am and what I have created.

Karis Luran nearly douses that spark with one sentence.

I fight to keep my composure. The change simmers, not far off, and it is harder to keep my anger in check than it should be. I allow time for one slow breath. “I summoned you. You will meet with me.”

“No one summons me.”

She does not say this in anger. A simple declaration.

Behind me, the quiet harp music strums along. Commander Grey is a shadow at my shoulder. “I issued a summons,” I say, my tone just as evenly declarative. “And here you are.”

Her expression tightens by the barest fraction. “I will speak with the king. No one else.”

“You will meet with me, or you will return to Syhl Shallow. My army will be happy to escort your forces to the border.”

Her gaze is impassive. “Where is your father?”

“He sends his regards.”

“Where is he?”

I want to declare that she has no right to demand answers from me, but I need this meeting to end in something other than all-out war. “He is visiting with the King of Disi. They are negotiating our alliance.” Every word is even and measured, but this conversation feels more violent than swinging swords. “Your soldiers nearly killed Princess Harper several weeks ago. Her father is eager to send his forces to Emberfall.”

“I am unfamiliar with this country of Disi.”

“Much to your regret, I am sure.” I pause, and a vivid tension falls between us, swirling with the breeze that winds through the open doorway. “Do you care to discuss what this alliance will mean for my country?” Another pause. “And yours?”

“In Syhl Shallow, if a man lies to me, I remove his tongue and force him to eat it.”

Behind her, one of her guards draws a blade and lays it across both palms. A threat. A clear one.

To my right, Grey does not move, but his attention sharpens. He will not draw a weapon until absolutely necessary. I hope his guardsmen are equally patient.

“Fascinating. Tell me, Karis, do you have your chef prepare it first—”

“You will not address me in such a common manner.” Her eyes darken. “And you will not mock me.”

“You addressed me as ‘boy.’ I thought you wished to be familiar.”

“I am the Queen of Syhl Shallow. You will remember your place.”

“I am the Crown Prince of Emberfall.” I refuse to allow a bite of anger to find my tone. “You will remember yours.”

“Oh, I do.” Her lips curve into what might have been called a smile if there were any kindness behind it. “My spies have warned me of this Disi. Of your alliance. I have heard of Princess Harper and the soldiers she promises to bring. The invasion this crippled princess hopes to subvert.”

“You will not speak ill of the princess.”

Karis Luran continues as if I have not spoken. “I have heard reports of your growing army, the way your return to Emberfall has rallied the people.”

“I am glad to have returned from Disi with such good news for my subjects.”

Her voice lowers. “My spies have seen no soldiers from Disi. No emissaries. No servants for your alleged ‘princess.’ ” A pause, then she glances around. “Not even a princess to stand at your side. I will ask you again, boy. Where is your father?”

I am losing this conversation. I am failing. Again. “I have answered your question.”

“I suspect you are being less than truthful. I will not ask a third time.”

“I invited you here to discuss a way to prevent your soldiers from being driven out of my country by force. I bear the king’s seal. My word is good. Are you telling me you would rather allow your people to die than speak with me?”

“You believe you will be able to drive my soldiers out of your lands? I invite you to try.”

“You truly are so arrogant as to risk your subjects?”

“No. You are.” She pauses. “Have your people flee to Disi if they believe its king will welcome them with open arms. I suspect they will find you have fed them an empty promise.” Her eyes do not leave mine. “I suspect they will discover their king is dead, and their prince is hanging on to his throne by little more than hope and trickery.”

Behind me, one of the guardsmen gasps. Maybe more than one. I don’t know if it’s a gasp of defense or betrayal, but it’s a clear break from rank, and it does not go unnoticed.

Karis Luran smiles. “You have done quite the job creating an illusion. I must admit, you have impressed me, boy.”

I glare at her. She’s guessed too accurately on too much of it. “What will it take for you to withdraw your forces from my country?”

“There is nothing you can offer me that I cannot take on my own.” A pause. “I am not a heartless monarch. I will allow you to give your people one week’s notice to flee your lands.” That cruel smile again. “That should give them plenty of time to reach the mythical Disi.”

I take a step forward before I can stop myself. I don’t know if it’s the impending change or my own fury driving my steps, but her guards draw their weapons. Eerily, they do it in unison.

Grey draws his sword.

Karis Luran raises a hand. They all stop.

Nothing drives home her “boy” comment quite like this moment.

“I will stop you,” I snap.

“You are welcome to try.” Her expression does not change. “I was surprised when your father stopped paying the tithe, you know. That is how I know this is a farce.”

I go still.

I know of no tithe. Especially not one paid to a country such as Syhl Shallow.

Karis Luran continues, “At first, I was confused. Was this an act of aggression? A precursor to war? Your father knew the penalties of nonpayment. When the borders were closed, I was more certain. But when my spies began to report that no one was being admitted at court, I grew suspicious. Then rumors of a monstrous creature rampaging Emberfall began to surface. Months passed, then years. No one had seen the king in ages. No one had seen the royal family. It was said that the king had fled the lands and was ruling from afar. So I sent in a regiment of soldiers to take over a small city. To see what the response would be. Do you know what they discovered?”

They discovered that my cities had been left without defense.

I was lost before I began.

“Why was my father paying you a tithe?” I ask her.

“You will have to ask him.” Her eyes flash with danger. “If you can.”

“If he is no longer paying it, what harm could come from admitting the reason?”

“I no longer need to speak with you, boy.”

“If you are so certain my father is dead,” I snap, “you will address me with the proper respect due the King of Emberfall.”

She laughs and turns away. “How certain you are that you are the true heir to the throne of Emberfall. Of all people, you should know your father’s proclivities. How fickle his taste in women. When your grandfather would not allow him to marry that sorceress, do you truly believe he allowed her to be led to slaughter?”

“She was killed,” I say. “There are records—”

“Indeed there are. There are records of his first marriage as well.” Her eyes narrow. “Where do you think he wed? Where do you think the marriage was consummated?” A pause. “There was a male heir. Your grandfather ordered him killed as well—but your father tried to send him to me. I refused. A halfling child? In Syhl Shallow? Never. I saw the torment your father went through. Your grandfather’s greed allowed those people to breed in your lands, and look where it got him.”

And look where it got me. I’m frozen. Nothing about this meeting has gone the way I wanted it to.

As always this season, there is never enough time.

I follow her out of the castle. “What child? Where is it now?”

“Does it matter?” She turns with another thin-lipped smile. “Truly? You have lost your country, boy. Does it matter who the true heir to your father’s throne is?” She climbs into the carriage, then stops her footman from closing the door. “When you flee, head north. I would give you a position among my castle staff. I believe my ladies would enjoy a new plaything.”

“I will not flee.” I bite the words out through clenched teeth.

“Then we will take you by force.”

“You will not take Emberfall easily.”

“No,” she says, and any amusement drains out of her voice. “Lives will be lost on both sides. Regardless of whether you are the true heir to your father’s throne, there is a key difference between your actions and those of a ruler. You know how to rally your people. You have built a force to stand against me. But you do not know you’ve lost. They do not know they’ve lost. It is one thing to build your people up. Entirely another to hold them together.”

With that, she slams her door.

I want to order my soldiers to stop them. To set this carriage on fire and destroy her guards.

Anything I do to her will only hasten war.

Especially if there are spies among us.

“She could be baiting you, my lord,” Grey says quietly.

“Of course she’s baiting me.” I watch her carriage bounce along the cobblestones. “It’s working.” I sigh. As with last night in my drawing room with Grey, I have no idea how to move forward from here.

Flee.

Fight.

I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to tell my people to do.

After what Karis Luran just said, I don’t even know if I’m the right person to tell them anything.

By nightfall, I sit alone in my father’s strategy room. I’ve been staring at the maps of Emberfall all day, wondering if there’s any way possible to arrange my meager army into a formation that will stand against a force from Syhl Shallow.

Harper called this a game once, and she’s right. In a way it is.

A game I am destined to lose. Karis Luran holds most of the pieces.

“You look troubled, Prince Rhen.”

Lilith speaks to me from the shadows.

I don’t look at her. “I shouldn’t be surprised that you would find me now.”

“You’ve been too busy for me.” Her tone of voice tells me she’s pouting.

I ignore her. Harper’s idea of luring soldiers into the mountain pass was a good one, an easy way to thin their ranks and pick them off more effectively. If Karis Luran hasn’t sent the bulk of her army through the pass yet, it could be possible. Her existing soldiers would put up a fight. People would die. But if my army could survive enough to launch a second wave, we could eliminate her forces as they tried to move through the pass.

I could lead half my army to death on the hope of stopping Karis Luran.

And for what? I’ll likely be a monster in a matter of hours.

Slender hands land on my shoulders from behind, stroking upward. “So troubled.”

I whirl and smack her hands away. “You will not touch me again. Harper is gone. I have failed.”

She steps away as if she meant to let go of me all along. “I found your meeting with Karis Luran to be quite amusing. Who knew your father’s taste for random women could have left an heir languishing somewhere in your kingdom?” She puts a finger to her mouth. “A halfling! I must admit, the idea of a forgotten relative somewhere in Emberfall almost makes me want to save your poor country. Though it would likely be fruitless. The poor man probably has no idea what he is. And truly, stopping an invading army sounds like such a bore.”

I hate that her comments burn at me. “Go away.”

“But I have your leash ready, Prince Rhen. Do you care to see it?”

Leash. The word coils around my throat and jerks tight. “No.”

In that moment, I realize what I have to do. Karis Luran was right: I’ve rallied my people. There is only one way to hold them together.

I turn away from Lilith and stride toward the door.

She follows me. “I should visit Karis Luran for a little chat, just to be sure I’m not misunderstanding. I’ll bring you along on a chain to make sure she’s forthcoming with information.”

Grey is waiting outside the door and he looks alarmed when he sees Lilith following me.

“Ignore her,” I tell him, and keep walking.

I head for the stairs.

She follows. So does Grey.

I bypass the third floor and head for the stone stairs leading to the turreted walkway at the top of the castle. A guard stands there: a lookout. His name is Leylan. I order him to stand down.

He hesitates, then glances at Lilith and Grey curiously.

“I gave you an order,” I snap. “Stand down.”

He obeys. We’re alone at the top of the castle, standing under the stars. The moon shines a wide beam down on my lands. The air is cold, promising winter soon.

For the first time in three hundred twenty-seven seasons, snow may fall on Ironrose.

I think of my family.

“So very troubled,” Lilith murmurs. “What are your intentions here, my dear prince?”

I turn to Grey. “Your sword, Commander.”

As ever, he does not hesitate. His eyes are pools of black, dark and shining in the moonlight. He pulls the sword and lays it across his hands, offering it to me.

I take the weapon and hold his eyes. “Thank you for your service,” I say to him.

Lilith claps her hands, delighted. “Have you promised to put Grey out of his misery before you change?”

“I have.”

Then I turn and bury the sword in her chest.

She falls to her knees, impaled on his blade. Her mouth is working, whether from shock or pain I cannot tell, but she cannot speak. Her hands are scrabbling at the blade, trying to pull it loose.

“That will not hold her long,” Grey says.

“I know. Send the generals to the towns. Have the people head south, away from the invasion of Karis Luran’s army. Distribute the silver from the castle treasury. Tell them not to resist. The ships can carry people to the southern shores. They should be safe if we leave no ships. Take the seal. Tell them you act on my order.”

“Yes, my lord.”

I glare at Lilith. She’s still choking, pulling at the blade. She is unable to draw breath to speak, which is an unexpected blessing. Her eyes are wells of evil anger.

“You may have won everything else,” I snap. “But you will not win me.”

I grab the edge of the parapet and hoist myself up. The wind is fierce, stinging my skin and burning my eyes.

I look at Grey. “My words were true. You have my thanks.”

“As you have mine.”

I look away. My eyes suddenly burn. “Once my people are safe, go for Harper, Grey. Escape all this.”

“Yes, my lord.”

My fingers grip the cold stone. I find I cannot move. I cannot breathe.

I am not brave enough, not even for self-sacrifice.

This is permanent.

This is forever.

I have failed.

Grey steps up to me. He holds out a hand.

I grasp it, and he grips tight. His eyes hold mine.

There are no choices left. Every path leads to destruction.

There is always a choice.

“For the good of Emberfall,” Grey says quietly.

I squeeze his hand. My voice shakes. “For the good of all.”

I let go.

I fall.


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