Curses

by Lish McBride

  Ellery came in, bustling over to check his temperature, listen to his lungs, and make a general nuisance of themself. “Hear you’re a bit of a hero.”

  Tevin pulled the blankets tighter around himself. “No. Probably would have drowned without Val.”

  “Oh, if you don’t think your cousin isn’t milking this for everything she’s got, you’re sorely mistaken. When I left, the staff was filling her with tea and cookies while she told them the story for the third time.”

  “Great, she’ll be all sugared up. They’ll regret that.”

  The healer grunted, putting all of their things back into the bag. “Well, I think you’ll be fine. I suggest you finish your tea and go to bed.”

  “I want to argue,” Tevin said, “but I don’t think I have the energy.”

  “Good,” Ellery said, holding out a hand. “Then I’ll tuck you in and rest assured that for once a patient is doing exactly what I asked of them. How novel.”

  * * *

  • • •

  Merit, in all her beastly glory, was in a parlor with Cedric, telling him everything that had happened while waiting for Ellery to finish with Tevin. “How are you feeling?” Merit asked. She would say he smiled at her, but an ostrich couldn’t smile. Still, it felt like he did.

  “Better now with such delicate beauty to look upon. Thank you for inviting me, Merit. My parents were so distressed, and if I’d stayed home, they would have fussed over me. How are you?” The effect of his fine words was spoiled a little by the rasping hiss of his voice caused by his ostrich body. “The shock of this morning must be overwhelming. Poor Freddie.” He bobbed his head. “And your friend, of course. You don’t need to sit with me, good lady. You should be resting. Feminine nerves can’t take so much strain.”

  “My nerves are fine, Cedric.” Though she was used to his ways by now, she spoke firmly. Cedric had once compared her eyes to limpet pools. It was supposed to be “limpid pools,” but she never corrected him, because frankly she liked the imagery of her eyes as aquatic snails. Cedric meant well; he just wasn’t very attentive to the world around him.

  The problem was that it never occurred to Cedric to actually tailor what he was saying to the person he was talking to. Merit was not a delicate beauty. More than once, her mother had referred to her as “sturdy,” which she always kind of liked. Her shoulders could take weight. Her body could work. She wasn’t fragile, and she wouldn’t break, whatever Cedric thought of her nerves. But her eyes were neither limpid or limpet pools. Vague flattery was almost as bad as specific insults.

  The brisk clip of footfalls on hardwood announced Ellery’s arrival. “Cedric, would you excuse us?” Ellery’s gaze cut to Merit. “Maybe see if someone will bring in a plate of cookies?”

  Cedric’s head bobbed. “I can see. I can’t carry them, but—” Cedric’s neck inflated, and he gave off this strange, muffled rrrmm noise.

  “It’s okay, Cedric.” Merit patted his shoulder again, trying to comfort him. “Someone will do it for you.”

  After he left, Ellery took Merit’s hand, careful of her claws. “They’ll be fine as long as both of them rest. There’s a small chance Freddie could get a fever or an infection in his lungs, but I’ll keep a close eye on him.” Ellery squeezed her hand. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “I saw the nest this morning, Merit. You didn’t get me or Kaiya to lock your door.” Ellery’s gaze was steady and sympathetic, but their words were no-nonsense. “These spells will become more frequent and last longer. The sooner you can get married and break the curse, the better.” Ellery gave her hand another squeeze before letting go. “I’m so sorry, Merit, but your time is up.”

  “I’m going to have to choose.” Merit took in a steadying breath.

  Ellery took off their glasses, using a handkerchief to buff the lenses. “If there were anything I could do, I would do it. May Godling Verity’s wings fall off and her legs go gouty.”

  As Merit let the devastating but not unexpected news go through her, she realized that a part of her had still hoped that somehow, someone would magically show up and just . . . love her. But no one was coming, and Merit would have to make the best of things. “Thanks, Ellery.”

  “Do you want me to go see about that plate of cookies?” Ellery asked gently.

  “Yes, please.”

  Ellery hugged her before leaving, giving Merit what comfort they could. As soon as the door clicked shut, Merit put her head in her arms and wept.

  * * *

  • • •

  After Merit ate an entire tray of cookies—and convinced Ellery that she might as well take her tincture because what did it matter now?—she went in search of Latimer. She found him in the stables, checking on his horse. Merit watched him for a moment as he brushed the animal, looking more casual than she’d ever seen him. His jacket was draped over the stall door, and his shirtsleeves were rolled up. He looked the picture of contentment as he currycombed Prince’s coat with long strokes.

  “He’s a beautiful horse.” Merit brushed her fingers along the velvet of his nose, letting the horse lip her fingers as he searched for a treat.

  Latimer looked up at her, pausing in his motions. “Lady Merit. How are your friends? Are they well?”

  She told him what Ellery had said, trying to ignore her own worry about their recovery.

  “I see,” Latimer said, his face serious. “I hope they mend quickly, then.” Prince, unhappy with the loss of attention, nudged Latimer in the chest with his nose. Latimer chuckled, gently shoving the horse’s head back in place before he resumed combing. “Sorry, he’s a demanding one.”

  “You seem very fond of him.”

  Latimer put the comb away and scratched at Prince’s ears. “I am. People come and go, but Prince is always there for me.”

  Merit considered that a moment, thinking how the comment was both unbearably sweet and kind of sad at the same time.

  He pulled an apple out of his pocket as well as a pocketknife and sliced off a piece for the horse, holding it up for Prince to gently lip out of his hand. “Have you thought about my proposal at all?”

  “I have.” Merit stepped forward, holding out her hand. “May I feed him?”

  He grinned, looking boyishly sweet as he sliced off a piece for her. Merit fed it to Prince, enjoying the nuzzle of the horse’s mouth on the flat of her palm. This was a new side to Latimer, one she’d never seen before, and one she rather liked. It made her feel better about her choice.

  “Did Freddie say what happened today? How he ended up in the water?” Latimer asked, slicing another piece of apple for her.

  “I don’t know,” Merit admitted, feeding Prince the slice of fruit. “I haven’t had a chance to talk to him or Tevin yet. Only Ellery.”

  Latimer’s brow furrowed. “It just seems odd.” He fed the rest of the apple to Prince before wiping his blade clean and folding it away. “Freddie doesn’t seem that careless.”

  “He could have slipped,” Merit said. “He was hungover. Unless he lied and his flask wasn’t full of tea at all, in which case he could have still been drunk.”

  “You should ask your friend Tevin. I’m fairly sure I saw him with the flask at one point.” He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped, shaking his head.

  Merit leaned in, putting a hand on his chest. “What is it?”

  Still, Latimer hesitated. “He’s your friend, and I don’t wish to speak ill of him.”

  “Please.” Merit licked her lips, realizing suddenly how close she stood to Latimer, the scent of horse and hay thick but pleasant. She didn’t move away. “I need to know.”

  Latimer covered her hand with his, holding it on his chest. “You don’t think he did anything, do you? To the flask? To get Freddie out of the way and keep you for himself?”

  “Of course not.” The denial
was off her lips in an instant.

  “Your title, to a man like him, would be quite a draw.”

  Merit didn’t want to consider it. Tevin wouldn’t do that, surely. But then, wasn’t that what Tevin did? Charmed and conned people? What did she really know about him? She had no proof beyond her own gut that he’d been honest with her. He could have easily been playing along with her game, sabotaging it as he went. Doubt wormed through her, and she hated it.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said, gazing up at Latimer. “Not really.”

  “You’ve decided, then?” He pressed her hand gently, the other finding its way to her waist.

  She hesitated. Once she accepted, that was it. She enjoyed several things about Latimer, but . . . there could be no arguments, really, because at the end of the day, she had to marry, and she had to marry a man of her mother’s choosing, and he was it. She let out a breath. “I’m sorry, the whole thing just makes me nervous. I thought I was prepared, but it’s still overwhelming.”

  Latimer pulled the hand off his chest and kissed her knuckles before threading his fingers through hers. “Yes, it is, but I have no doubt that we can handle the terrors of marriage together.”

  Merit managed a small laugh. Yes, Latimer could be pompous and a bit of a showoff, but he could be funny, too. The way he treated Prince showed that he could also be kind.

  He brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. “That’s better.” With a sheepish grin, he cleared his throat and pulled her a little closer. “I suppose I should do this right. Merit Cravan, heir to the barony of Cravan, will you do me the honor of being my bride?”

  Merit didn’t think—if she thought too much, she knew she wouldn’t be able to go through with it. “Yes, Eric Latimer, heir to the kingdom of Huldre, I will do you such an honor.”

  His cheeks curved as he smiled, his eyes alight. He was so happy that Merit couldn’t help feeling a little happy, too. It was over and done with—she had chosen a husband, and now only the details were left to sort out. She pulled his happiness to her, wrapping it around her like a blanket. Latimer’s smile dimmed a fraction, his hand moving to cradle her face. The one on her hip pulled her closer as Latimer dipped his head and stole a kiss. She kissed him back because she knew she should, and when he finally broke it and leaned back, she wondered if he was as disappointed with it as she was.

  CHAPTER 23

  NO ONE GETS ANY CAKE

  Merit wanted to let the betrothal roll over her like an out of control carriage—the damage done before she even knew it was happening. What Merit needed to do was tell Tevin and her mother, further sealing her fate. Latimer, thankfully, promised not to make any announcements until after she’d told them. Wanting to get the hardest part over first, she decided to start with Tevin. She had to wait. He didn’t come to dinner, and there was no answer when she knocked on his door, so she assumed he was asleep. Freddie was, too. Ellery said it was understandable, considering what they’d both gone through.

  She visited Freddie first thing in the morning. He was in a fine mood, propped up on pillows and eating breakfast from a wooden tray. His nearly empty plate showed that his appetite was unaffected, and Merit said so.

  “I slept over twelve hours and woke up famished.” He scooped a piece of egg onto his fork. “Nearly drowning does that to a fellow, I suppose. No fever so far. Your healer said if I rest today and my lungs sound good, I can get up for a little while this afternoon.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Merit said, opening up another window to let fresh air into the room before taking a seat. “Freddie, do you know what happened yesterday? How you ended up in the river?”

  “No,” Freddie said, using the last of his toast to mop up the eggs. “I remember getting dizzy. Then I was in the water.” He shrugged. “Serves me right for going for a ride the morning after a party.” He dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. “I owe your friends a thank-you. Not sure I would have made it out without them.” He set his napkin on the tray. “Perhaps I’ll send them a ham. Everyone likes ham.”

  Everyone did not like ham, but Merit kept that to herself. It was the gesture that mattered, and Freddie would probably forget anyway.

  Freddie flopped back into his pillows. “You decided about this whole marriage business yet?”

  Merit hesitated. She had wanted to tell Tevin first, but then she supposed Freddie deserved to know, too. “Yes. I accepted Latimer. Though I suppose I should call him Eric now. I’m sorry, Freddie. Are you mad?”

  Freddie shrugged. “I’m disappointed. Figured we’d have an easy go of it.” He took her hand and kissed it. “But no, I’m not mad. We’re friends, Merit. Just make sure you invite me to the wedding. I do enjoy a good party.”

  * * *

  • • •

  Merit stayed a little while longer, keeping Freddie company before forcing herself to go find Tevin. He wasn’t in his room. She found him sitting in the gardens with Amaury and Diadora, and since she didn’t exactly want an audience for this, she tried to think of a good excuse to take him away. It ended up not being necessary. Amaury saw her walking up and told Tevin, shooing his brother away, so in the end Merit just had to lead him to a quiet space to talk.

  Merit ushered him into one of the drawing rooms. Everything was already set up for afternoon tea. Cups and saucers of delicate porcelain were placed at each setting, along with trays of pastries, delicate cakes, sandwiches, and savory pies.

  Tevin reached out and stole a chocolate-covered strawberry.

  “Those are for later,” she said automatically.

  “I won’t tell if you won’t.” He took a bite of the strawberry, his green eyes lit up with mischief. Merit felt a blush spread over her cheeks. He looked—well, he looked unbearably handsome. This wouldn’t do.

  “Latimer asked me to marry him. I said yes.”

  The light in his eyes died.

  “He’s my best option. My mother will be thrilled, my queen will be pleased. Everyone wins.”

  Tevin set the half-eaten strawberry on the table, the red berry staining the white tablecloth. He stared at it, the muscle ticking in his jaw.

  “I’m succumbing to my curse, Tevin. I don’t have time to be picky anymore.” She was babbling. Merit threw her hands up. “Will you say something?”

  “Are you happy?”

  “Say something else.” Because she wasn’t sure how to answer that.

  “What do you want me to say, Merit?” When he looked up, his face was a complete mask. “Should I say sorry? Sorry we didn’t find someone more worthy of you?”

  “Worthy of me? Latimer is a handsome prince from a wealthy family.”

  “You don’t need coin, and you already told me you don’t need handsome. You don’t give a damn about being a princess.” He slammed his fist down on the table, making the little trays jump. “Blast it, Merit.” His voice dropped low as he rubbed the spot over his heart with his palm. “You’re funny and brave, and you tell me when I need to get stuffed.” He stepped closer to her. “You have discerning taste in poetry and can rip open a chicken coop faster than anyone.” He dropped his hand, a fist at his side.

  Merit realized they were standing so close she could feel the warmth of his body.

  “Amaury’s right, you’re wasted on him.” His brow furrowed, his eyes pleading. “Give me a little more time, Merit. We’ll think of something.”

  When she didn’t respond, he let out a soft curse, cutting the distance between them and putting his mouth on hers.

  Earlier, when Latimer had taken the liberty in the stables, she’d done her best to enjoy it. She hadn’t succeeded. With Tevin, she was trying not to enjoy it and failing miserably. This wasn’t a kiss; it was combustion. It wasn’t pretty or sweet, the soft pressing of lips or gentle brushes. This kiss was a hungry thing. Tevin’s kiss wanted, and Merit realized she wanted back. Her hands dug into his hair, while Tev
in spun her back against the wall. Merit leaned into him until their bodies were pressed together in one firm line. She had no idea how long they stayed like that. A second. Forever. An increment of time simultaneously too long and too short.

  When Tevin pulled back, they were both breathing raggedly and his cheeks were flushed. She looked up at him, every inch of her feeling scorched. Tevin cradled her face in his hands and gave her one more kiss, gently, like he couldn’t help himself. His eyes were wide, the pupils blown, and for a second Merit thought he looked like someone who had been shaken right down to his core.

  Merit touched her lips, her fingers trembling. There was no denying the fact that it didn’t matter who she married or who kissed her in the future. She’d compare every single one of them with Tevin DuMont.

  And it made her angry. “How dare you.”

  “How dare you,” Tevin said, his voice rough. “It’s not like I was alone in that kiss.”

  “That’s not fair.” Her whole body was trembling now, with hurt or anger, she couldn’t quite tell.

  Tevin smiled at her. “That’s the difference right there, between you and me. You expect life to be a balanced game. I grew up knowing life plays with loaded dice and all the good cards up its sleeve.”

  She poked his chest with a single finger. “I can’t control how I was born. You don’t get to judge me—”

  “Oh, yes, that wouldn’t be fair, would it?”

  It was the smug look on his face that did it. She was exhausted, scared about her curse, confused, and she’d just had the wits kissed out of her by the worst possible person. Merit tipped completely over the edge. So instead of controlling herself, she took a page from the beast’s book. “You know what’s not fair? Making a stupid choice when you’re fifteen and getting cursed for it.” She shoved him back away from her with one hand. “To be hurt and abandoned, and feel foolish because everyone knows.” He opened his mouth, but she didn’t let him talk. Her voice was getting louder now, an unstoppable thing. The howl of the wounded beast in human form. “To have your own mother bring the curse down because you’re fighting at a dinner party and some awful fairy godling thinks it’s a good idea.” She gave him another shove, just because it felt good. The scene fractured for a second, and she paused to dash the tears out of her eyes with the back of her hand.