The Cursed Crown

by Matthew S. Cox

  “We’ve been over this.” Kitlyn moved the tray aside and pulled Oona over, resting her head in her lap and stroking her hair. “I could have dragged you back straight away to the castle and didn’t.”

  Oona smiled up at her. “I feel like such a fool. No wonder everyone thought me a petulant brat.”

  “But you’re an adorable petulant brat.” Kitlyn tapped her on the tip of the nose.

  Oona stuck out her tongue and raspberried her.

  “We could take holidays. Perhaps once a month, we leave the kingdom in the care of Beredwyn and frolic the day away like children. At least until we’re too old to frolic without breaking bones.”

  “Oh, stop.” Oona giggled, but it turned somber. “Children…”

  “What of them?” Kitlyn perked up, listening for signs of the kids. “Evie? Pim?” she called. “Are you two still alive?”

  Two small voices yelled “Aye” from the garden.

  “Oh, we would make such wonderful parents, wouldn’t we? Letting them go clear out of our sight. They’ll drown in the pond.”

  “I told them not to go near it.” Kitlyn twirled a bit of Oona’s hair around her finger.

  “And at their age, what would we have done?”

  Kitlyn smirked. “Gone straight to the pond, thrown off our clothes, and jumped in.” A bit of warmth flooded her cheeks at the thought of doing that now at sixteen rather than six. At the time, they’d thought only of not ruining their dresses by getting them wet. She hadn’t seen Oona naked since the last time she’d attended her bath before they’d run away. That moment had been awkward, but mostly because she didn’t know how Oona would react to learning the truth of her feelings. With that fear well and truly dead, she had no idea what might happen the next time they had no clothing between them. The thought terrified her as much as it thrilled her.

  “Indeed. We should keep a closer eye on them. And my… you are as red as an ivenberry. What is going on inside your mind?”

  “Thoughts I should not dwell on until we are married,” said Kitlyn. “But back to playing like children. I think we should take a day or two a month and forget about everything but sharing company and having fun.”

  “Ahh yes. But speaking of children… Do you think the people will accept Evie as our heir? Or…”

  Kitlyn rolled her eyes. “The only child I’m interested in bearing would be yours, and that is… well…”

  Oona laughed. “That would truly be the work of the gods.”

  “It would at that.” Kitlyn grinned.

  “Ooh…” Oona squirmed, wide-eyed.

  “I have not touched you in any way worthy of making that face.”

  “Oh, you didn’t, but… I just felt the strangest tingle sweep over me. As soon as you mentioned the gods.”

  Kitlyn shook her head, gazing at the clouds. “Stop teasing me.”

  “The children are still in the garden unsupervised,” said Oona.

  “As were we many times.”

  “Yes, but we were what, ten? They’re still a bit young.”

  “If you want to go into the garden, you have but to say so.”

  Oona reached up and traced a finger over Kitlyn’s forehead. “You’re not wearing a crown.”

  “Nor are you.”

  “I don’t feel particularly royal today.”

  Kitlyn kept stroking a hand over Oona’s hair. “Well, for one thing, I have not been officially crowned. For another, my father was quite proud of being king. He never left his bedchambers without it on, preening and strutting about as though it made him superior to others. I suffer from no such illusions. A heavy ring of metal upon my skull would serve only to remind me of how much I have suddenly become responsible for.”

  “But you are the queen…”

  “Not quite yet I’m not. And… yes. I understand that. But I shan’t dwell on it. What need have I of fancy gems on my head? However, I suppose when need be, I shall yield to tradition.”

  Oona sat up. “Shall we go into the garden then?”

  “Yes, let’s.”

  “Shall we try climbing the tree?” asked Oona with a raised eyebrow.

  “You’ll become frightened and scream for help.”

  Hands on her hips, Oona blinked. “After sitting on Omun’s shoulder, I doubt a tree will bother me at all anymore.”

  Kitlyn poked her in the stomach with one finger, tickling. “I suspect you will still be frightened.”

  “Eep!” Oona grabbed her finger. “Stop that!”

  “You’re so ticklish.”

  “You are as well!” Oona pounced.

  They rolled around in the grass for a little while trying to tickle each other, though their moderately heavy gowns got in the way. Eventually, Kitlyn wound up draped over Oona, both of them out of breath. She pushed herself up, staring down into her love’s bright blue eyes. Their noses hovered less than an inch away from each other.

  Kitlyn started to lower herself into a kiss, but hesitated at soft gasps of surprise. She shifted her eyes up, catching sight of three small faces watching them over the half-height wall separating the walkway along the castle from the field—the same one she had so often been made to sweep seed pods from.

  Mary, Laura, and Rowan, the three youngest maids, watched them with wide eyes and expressions like they’d found an adorable abandoned kitten. Rowan appeared to notice Kitlyn had spotted them and blushed. She grabbed the other two by the shoulders, and all three twelve-year-olds ducked out of sight.

  For a moment, Kitlyn didn’t entirely know how to process their reaction of ‘aww!’ to watching her about to kiss Oona. She’d expected most everyone to cringe away in disgust or pull a Fauhurst and scream at them. The sight of the young maids finding them cute choked her up with joy.

  “Kit?” Oona leaned up to give her a peck of a kiss. “What’s wrong?”

  “We have an audience,” whispered Kitlyn, then explained what she saw.

  Oona grinned.

  A startled yelp came from Evie.

  “Oh, no,” muttered Kitlyn, before springing to her feet and pulling Oona upright.

  “I think that’s distinctly a ‘Pim shoved a frog in her face’ scream.”

  Kitlyn raised an eyebrow.

  “Come on. I wish to walk in the garden anyway.” Oona hurried toward the garden arch.

  Kitlyn took a step, but glanced back at the garden walk. Again, three small faces peered over the wall, but only enough for their eyes to see over it. She smiled at them, hiked up her dress a bit, and trotted off after Oona, intending to pick up where they left off with the kissing.

  Alas, she found her crouched between Pim and Evie, telling them about the faeries that ‘lived’ in the garden. Pim held a tiny brown frog in both hands. Kitlyn ducked behind a tree, grinning to herself that Oona had been right about the scream. She sent a bit of magic into the earth and raised a handful of small stones surrounded in emerald green light, which she levitated in the approximate shape of a human figure six inches tall before sending it on a long circular flight so it came into view some distance away in front of the children behind the trees.

  Evie gasped at the moving glow, then pointed. “Faerie! I see one!”

  Oona’s eyes gleamed with childish delight as she whirled around to look. While she and Evie squealed, Pim twisted back, scanning the trees until he spotted Kitlyn. He grinned at her, but kept quiet. Evidently, she had amused him often enough with her dragon-shaped rocks that he’d recognized the glowing energy.

  She amused Evie for a little while, teasing her a bit like waving a feather at a cat, until Oona finally got a good look at the ‘faerie’ and let out a sigh of disappointment.

  “Aww, it’s just rocks.” Evie stopped trying to chase it and let her arms hang limp.

  Kitlyn burst out laughing, losing concentration on the magic. She abandoned her hiding place and joined the others, spending the better part of the next hour with Oona entertaining the kids until the first signs of a weakening sun announced it time
for the children to go inside.

  Once the kids had run off out of earshot, Kitlyn took Oona by the hand. “Shall we visit the pond?”

  “Ooh. Yes, let’s.” Oona grinned. “Though we won’t have too much time before dinner.”

  They wandered the meandering footpath across the garden to the large pond built at the corner of the wall. Kitlyn clenched her jaw at the sight of it, remembering Fauhurst ruining their moment. She decided not to dwell on that since the man would never plague her again, and led the way over to the bench, sitting with her feet ankle deep in the chilly water.

  “Ooh!” squeaked Oona. “It’s so cold.”

  “It will be autumn soon.”

  “Yes.” Oona turned her head to look at her, sapphire-blue eyes wide with nervous anticipation. “Are you sure we should be alone here? We’re not married.”

  Kitlyn leaned closer. “Quite sure. This place brings you peace. I’m sorry if I’m not more visibly upset over…”

  “I understand.” Oona kissed her on the lips for a long moment, then shifted to rest her head on Kitlyn’s shoulder, content to hold her. “I don’t know that I could bear this without you.”

  “This?”

  “Losing… well, not my father.” She sighed. “It’s hard to think of him as anything else, despite why I came to be here.”

  Kitlyn rested her head against Oona’s. “I don’t think you have it in you to hate anyone.”

  “I rather detest Fauhurst.”

  “Hah.”

  Oona sighed. “I’m not fond of Ruby either right now, but I don’t think I hate her. I hate the way she treated Evie, and I hate the ease with which she gave us both away.”

  “I will never understand how she could do that.” Kitlyn frowned at the water. As they sat in silent contemplation, she briefly wondered what her life would be like had not some poor random chicken ignited in blue flames thirteen years ago. Before she could decide if she’d have been spoiled and ‘princess-y’ or simply locked away somewhere assassins couldn’t get to (and likely gone mad) she pushed it all aside and offered thanks that things had happened exactly the way they had.

  She squeezed Oona close. It was all worth it.

  “Umm…” A timid woman’s voice broke the quiet behind them.

  “This place is evidently cursed,” said Oona in a calm tone tinged with amusement. “We are always interrupted here.”

  “At least it’s not Fauhurst,” muttered Kitlyn.

  They turned together to find Meredith standing a few steps away.

  “Will you be having dinner at the usual time? ’Tis almost ready.”

  Kitlyn smiled at her handmaiden, then at Oona. “Yes, thank you, Meredith. We shall be in shortly.”

  “Very good.” Meredith offered a small curtsey and whisked off into the trees.

  “No ‘your highness’?” asked Oona, grinning.

  “Only in public.” Kitlyn sighed. “Are you all right?”

  “Not really, but there’s little to be done about it but mourn.”

  Kitlyn stood, hiking her dress away from the water. “I hope you are more interested in supper than you were in lunch.”

  “You didn’t eat lunch either.” Oona gave her the side eye.

  “That”—she stepped up onto dry land and let her dress fall—“is precisely why I am hungry.”

  Oona gathered her gown in one hand, reaching for Kitlyn with the other to hold steady while navigating the muddy bank. “I think I shall eat as well.”

  Arm in arm, they headed back to the castle.

  Two guards by the door snapped to attention as they passed.

  Once inside, Kitlyn let out a soft sigh. I will never get used to that.

  5

  Obligation

  Oona

  One week after King Talomir’s passing, black engulfed the full length mirror at the corner of Oona’s bedchamber.

  Two pale spots broke the darkness, a pair of faces that could be the same girl ten years apart. Oona fidgeted and grimaced while Piper did up the back lacing on her new dress, something she would likely wear once and forget about entirely—until the next time someone important died. Evie stood beside her in a somewhat simpler but similar gown, playing peek-a-boo with herself in the mirror by lifting and dropping the veil.

  Her little sister had wound up proving both Kitlyn and Oona wrong. Oona thought the girl would loathe being made to wear shoes, having grown up to the age of seven without any. Kitlyn assumed she’d adore them and turn into one of those people who had entire closets devoted only to shoes.

  As it turned out, Evie reacted to them with ambivalence. She went barefoot when she wanted to and wore shoes when she wanted or had to, not once seeming to care either way. Oona suspected Kitlyn still disliked shoes, something about her magic, but the Queen of Lucernia could hardly traipse about like a peasant girl.

  At least, when not visiting the garden in private.

  The priestesses of Tenebrea had prepared the king’s body, though given the circumstances of the war, the deception, and everything associated with it, he had lain in state at the Tenebrea temple as would any normal citizen. Neither Kitlyn nor Oona dared ask the priests of Lucen to afford him the honor of the grand cathedral, nor did they feel it appropriate to conduct the usual great ceremony of welcoming all the citizens of the land into the castle to pay their respects.

  Few had any respect to pay the man.

  Oona smoothed her hands down the front of her dress, stifling the urge to wince whenever the younger girl behind her pulled too hard on one of the ties. Piper had only a week’s worth of training under Meredith, and still hadn’t quite gotten the hang of dealing with the more elaborate pieces of wardrobe. Still, at fourteen, the girl had plenty of time to learn, especially with Oona more than happy to tolerate the process. After all, that girl had lost both parents to the war, even if she had been born in Evermoor.

  “Forgive me, Lady Oona,” whispered Piper. “The loops are small and the ribbons protest being moved.”

  “It’s all right. And please, you don’t need to be so formal when we are alone. Bad enough what my fath—I mean the king did.”

  Piper tugged at the next set of ties, securing them into a decorative bow knot. “Milady, please stop apologizing. I don’t blame you for it. You hadn’t even been born when the war started. I still can’t believe you forgave me for what I came here to do.”

  Evie looked up with a questioning head tilt.

  “There’s nothing to forgive. You didn’t do anything but wash dishes… and okay, perhaps snoop around.”

  Piper chuckled.

  Evie shifted her gaze to Oona. “What did she do?”

  “Some people took advantage of her and sent her here to kill me. But she also thought foretellings are foolish.”

  The child’s eyes widened in shock.

  “I couldn’t simply poison a girl not much older than me without knowing she was as evil as everyone told me.” Piper tied the last bow and fidgeted at the gown here and there.

  “Oona’s not evil,” said Evie in a small voice. “How could you think that?”

  “I don’t.” Piper patted her on the head, and adjusted the child’s dress. “It is easy to think bad things about a person who is far away and you had only ever heard people speak ill of. As soon as I came here and saw her, I had too many doubts. I decided to learn as much as I could about her, but even I didn’t realize she wasn’t the king’s daughter until Kitlyn became angry in the kitchen that night.”

  Oona managed a weak smile, remembering the story. “She does look quite a bit like him when she’s furious.”

  “Aye. ’Tis her eyes. But I am sure you will give her many reasons to be happy instead. That man always had a scowl on his face. And…”

  “It’s all right. I don’t hold it against you that you find comfort in his passing.” Oona sighed, finding the dress more comfortable with all the air out of her chest. “My real father died because of the war, so I should feel the same as you, but the
re have been so many lies…”

  “Lyin’s bad,” said Evie. “Lucen depests…” She bit her lip. “Umm. Doesn’t like liars.”

  Oona made a silly face and flipped her little sister’s veil down. “Yes, Lucen does detest liars.” And we are about to bury a great big liar. Lucen forgive me.

  “All done.” Piper took a step back to appraise her work.

  “Thank you.” Oona smiled at the girl before twisting left to right, examining herself in the mirror. Having a handmaiden that the castle staff actually allowed to function as a handmaiden made her hate the elaborate dresses and gowns somewhat less, though she still disliked being confined in them. However, some events—such as the funeral of a king—did demand a certain degree of protocol.

  Piper crouched to help both Oona and Evie into their shoes, also black but simple since no one would see them under the heavy gowns. She had expected the girl to ask to be excused from the funeral of the man responsible for her parents’ death, but Piper made no such request. She likely wants the satisfaction of seeing him in death.

  Her grey dress signaled a lack of mourning, but she’d chosen one dark enough not to give off disrespect. Oona envied her the simpler garment that wouldn’t make breathing a chore.

  She took Evie’s hand and led her out into the hall, Piper following them close behind. They met Kitlyn, also in an elaborate black mourning gown, in the grand foyer. Some of the castle staff with any status of note joined the foot procession, though it hardly seemed like a significant portion.

  Oona suppressed the urge to look around and take note of faces, despite feeling the group quite small. Kitlyn showed no sign of noticing or caring either way. They walked side by side with Evie at Oona’s left out the main gates into the streets of Cimril. Two rows of ten soldiers marched on their left and right, forming a veritable wall of armor-clad bodies. Citizens occasionally looked at them, some offering hand signs of respect to the gods, a few ignoring them, and a handful scowling.

  Unable to tell if the scowls came from people unwilling to accept her love for Kitlyn or if they merely expressed contempt for the king, she kept her head bowed until the procession reached the entrance to the Tenebrea temple some minutes later.