by Lish McBride
She laughed, threading her arm through his. “So confident.”
“I prefer to see it as knowing my own worth,” he said, smiling. It quickly faded. “But, Merit, do me a favor? Don’t mention the call to Mother? I don’t wish her to . . .” He turned his gaze out over the lake. “I don’t want her to worry.”
Merit assured him she would not, feeling better than she had in days. Was it because she’d talked to Latimer about what was going on or because she was excited to talk to Tevin?
* * *
• • •
Merit spent the evening in the library. It didn’t seem to be a very popular room—during her stay she’d never seen anyone else in it. Merit couldn’t trust herself with the delicate pages of the old books, not with her claws, but she could sit in front of the fireplace and let the calm of the room fill her. She must have dozed, because she didn’t hear Lady Angelique come in until a small tray was set in front of her. On the tray rested a teapot and cup made of rose-patterned china. The thick scent of chocolate filled the air.
“Forgive my presumption, but I thought you could use this. Chocolate can be medicinal, don’t you think?”
Merit straightened, making sure her claws didn’t catch the fabric. “You think I need medicine?”
Lady Angelique poured the chocolate into the cup, her hands moving with delicate grace. Merit couldn’t help but compare them with her own. “I may be a queen, but I’m also a mother. You seem anxious, and having once been a young bride myself, I thought you might need a little help. And since your own mother isn’t here yet, I was hoping you’d let me temporarily take her place.”
“Oh,” Merit said, taking the cup. “You’ve all been so kind.” And they had been, but in an oddly detached way. To Merit it felt like their words said, “Welcome,” but there was no feeling behind it. They smiled. They hugged, even. But it was like hugging a doll that couldn’t really hug you back.
Lady Angelique straightened, her posture perfect as she perched. “It’s normal to have doubts, my dear. When I first met Henrich, I was so worried. I feared we didn’t have anything in common, but as I got to know him, I discovered a like mind. A partner.” She gestured for Merit to sip.
Merit took a deep drink, happy for the warmth and comfort. It made her remember a far-off time when it had been easier to talk to her own mother, when she was a little girl and her needs had been simple.
Lady Angelique smiled. “Doubts are normal, dear.” She flicked graceful fingers at Merit’s cup. “Drink, drink. You’ll feel so much better when you’re done.”
Merit finished the chocolate, catching a strange, bitter taste at the end. Almost . . . peppery. “You might want to talk to your cook. I’m not sure what’s in here—” Merit froze, her clawed hand going to her gut.
“Oh, dear.” Lady Angelique set down her own cup. She leaned in, her eyes suddenly sharp and cold, making Merit think of the snakes Willa often had to deal with. Snakes weren’t mean or evil, but their perspective was so alien that she couldn’t quite understand it besides agreeing that sunning on a hot rock was quite nice, thank you. “You don’t look well, child. I’ll have to send for a healer.” She stood, heading to the bellpull that would summon the servants, her movements unhurried.
Merit doubled over, gasping.
Lady Angelique tugged on the bellpull twice before returning to her seat. She watched Merit, her eyes bright.
Merit tried to give the cup back to Lady Angelique, but her hand was shaking. She needed to get out of there—to find Latimer. He would help her, she was sure of it. The cup rattled in its saucer until Merit dropped both onto the floor, watching the beautiful rose-patterned china shatter against the hardwood.
“Pity,” Lady Angelique said with a frown. “That was my mother’s. Still, one must accept one’s losses with grace.”
Merit couldn’t respond. Her heart pounded, and heat poured through her veins. Pain flared as her spine bowed, her clawed hands becoming gnarled.
Lady Angelique’s face lifted as the door opened behind Merit. “Ah, there you are. We’re in need of a healer. Quickly, now.”
The servant must have left, because Lady Angelique returned her focus to Merit. “Unfortunately, Mrs. Humphries is out in the south orchards today, gathering a lichen that she needs.”
Merit snarled.
“Now, now,” Lady Angelique said, grabbing hold of Merit’s jaw. “Don’t fret. She’ll get here eventually.”
Merit tried to stand, but her muscles wouldn’t obey. She collapsed against the floor, her vision fading. In the distance she heard the beast howl, and her heart howled back.
CHAPTER 27
A GIFT THAT KEEPS ON GIVING
Eric Latimer of Huldre stared at his bride-to-be and felt something in him wither. The beast that was Merit had been thrown into one of the cells in the dungeon. She’d destroyed the wooden bench, clawing it into so much timber. Yesterday he’d walked with her by the lake and planned their future, and now she was meticulously shredding a blanket with her teeth.
“Mother, I can’t believe you did this.”
“What?” His mother raised her brows, coming to a stop in front of the cage. Latimer stood there, scowling at the beast. “I think it’s rather clever.”
“She’s in a cell. My bride is in a cell. We can’t get married this way.” He gestured toward Merit and the metal bars surrounding her.
“Of course not! I’ve had a lovely cage commissioned. It should be here the morning of the ceremony. You should see it—absolutely beautiful. I particularly like the filigree pieces.” Queen Angelique stared at the beast. She bit her thumb, smiling as she did. “Ingenious, really.”
“What did you give her?”
“An overdose of bloom.” She frowned at him. “You’re concerned things won’t go smoothly? Darling, I’ve planned it all down to the last detail. You know me. Lists for days.”
Latimer turned to his mother and wondered if he was truly seeing her for the first time. She stood next to the cage in a gauzy blue gown, a gold circlet holding back her hair, revealing her tipped ears. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright. “I’m concerned that my mother attempted to poison my bride.” He ran a hand over his face.
“Attempt to poison her! The very idea.” She crossed her arms, one of her slippered feet tapping against the stone floor. “Not until after the wedding. What good would it do now?”
Latimer froze. He had to have heard her wrong. “Pardon?”
She shook her head. “If she dies before the wedding, we won’t see a single copper.” She tipped her head at the cage. “All of this would be for naught.”
Latimer’s blood froze in his veins. “You’re going to murder my bride?”
“So melodramatic.” Lady Angelique’s brow furrowed. “What did you think was going to happen?”
He put his hands on his hips, afraid that if he didn’t, he might do something he’d regret. The beast watched him from the cage, wary. “I don’t know—a clever trick with the wedding laws, or maybe purchase another godling curse.” Something terrible, like he had done with Cedric and Freddie, but not permanent.
She used her toe to push a shred of blanket between the bars and back into Merit’s cage. “We couldn’t leave her married to you. You’re a prince, darling. Tiradian stock. When you marry, it will be to someone fit for you.” She clapped her hands together, pressing them to her lips. “And with her coin, her lands, you’ll have your pick of proper brides.” She heaved a happy sigh. “I do love it when a plan comes together.”
A chill ran its slippery fingers up his spine. “Mother, there must be another way.”
“No,” she said, dropping her hand sharply. “There is no room for doubts. Half of this wedding has been on credit. What do you think will happen if you don’t go through with it? Creditors will start taking things. Our clothes. Our art and furniture. Your horse. Everyone
will know.”
Latimer’s hand fisted, but his face stayed serene. “So we get married, and then what? What if she tells everyone about this?” He tipped his chin toward the beast and her cage.
“What will she tell them? She’s mindless now, darling. Once her curse is broken, I hardly think she’ll be able to remember who gave her the tincture. If she has doubts, our staff will remember me summoning the healer. Me, trying to help her. Alas, it was too late.”
Her eyes glittered as they looked at the beast. “You just make it through the ceremony.” She patted his cheek. “We’ll give her a perfect wedding trip. When you come back, without your bride, we’ll mourn young love and tragic accidents. After a proper mourning period, you move on.” She smoothed her dress. “I look terrible in black. Still, we must bear up under adversity.”
“Mother,” he said so softly, it was barely sound. The beast raised her snout. “She’s my friend.” He regretted the words instantly. He knew better.
She glared at him. “Don’t be weak.” She grabbed his chin, yanking his face down to hers. For a long moment, she stared at him, her eyes cold. Then she brightened and released his chin. “Besides, you don’t need friends. You have family.”
Latimer’s shoulders slumped. “And when the guests ask why my bride is in a cage?”
She dismissed the idea with a flick of her wrist. “We’ll tell a pretty story beforehand, make it seem like intentional theater. They’ll eat it up. Honestly, my boy, you must trust your mother in this. After the wedding, when the curse is broken and you’re escorting your wealthy new bride away, no one will think to question it.” She clasped her hands over her heart. “Your love will have tamed the beast, broken the curse. The bards will be falling all over themselves to sing about it. Who doesn’t enjoy a good love story, hmm?”
Latimer didn’t look convinced. “And what does Father say?”
The woman flicked her hand at him. “Your father does as he’s told. Any other objections?” Her tone said clearly that she didn’t want to hear them. That it would be best if Latimer buried them deep and did as he was told, like his father.
For a second, Latimer considered arguing. It would do no good. “No, Mother.”
“Excellent.” She smoothed her skirts. “It will all work out. You’ll see.” Somewhere deep in the keep, a bell tolled. “Is that the time? Lady Zarla will arrive any minute. I better get ready.” She cleared her throat meaningfully. Latimer bent to kiss her cheeks, and then she left without another word.
Today, for the first time, Latimer knew that if he looked into a mirror, he wouldn’t like what he saw reflected. Mother was happy. This morning she’d been singing. His father was laughing. Latimer should be dancing down the hallway. Soon their coffers would be replenished, and everything would go back to normal. Their way of life restored. All he had to do was nothing.
Nothing should be easy to do. He could think all he wanted, but as long as he didn’t act, everything would be perfect.
He was usually very good at doing nothing. With Cedric, he’d paid the godling’s fee, then stepped out of the way. With Freddie, he’d put one of the chemist’s powders that his mother had provided into a tea flask. He hadn’t meant for him to fall into the river; the powder was supposed to make him dizzy and sick, so everyone thought he was still drunk. If Cedric was an ostrich and Merit thought Freddie had made an ass out of himself, suddenly Latimer was the best choice.
All he’d had to do was give one little push to get things going, and then step back and let the boulder roll down the hill. Then do nothing as it careened into the village below. It was his only job, and he wasn’t sure he could do it anymore.
He liked Merit—that was the problem. He’d liked talking to her. No one really talked to him. His parents talked at him, like he was a trained puppy. Servants did his bidding. Prince was good at listening. But he was a horse. It wasn’t the same.
If he married Merit, she wouldn’t see the lake in springtime. She’d never see the flowers. His mother had a plan, and if all went perfectly, Merit wouldn’t live to see the spring.
The beast coughed, spitting up a wad of chewed-up blanket. Something in the corner of the cage caught Latimer’s eye—a glint of silver. Keeping an eye on the beast, he slowly leaned over and picked it up. The chain was broken, the locket scratched, but when he opened it, the mirror was still intact. He cupped it in his hand.
He couldn’t stand against his parents. They were too strong. But he could give a different boulder a push, couldn’t he? Then it wouldn’t be his fault, just gravity.
He tucked the locket and the broken chain into his pocket and left the beast to her blanket. He’d promised Merit she could call Tevin, and he wouldn’t break his promise. It was the best he could do.
CHAPTER 28
HEY, HE CAN BE CHARMING, TOO
It was dark when they stepped off the street and onto the walkway up to the house, the weak mage light sconces by the door bathing the steps in yellow glow. The door opened, revealing Kate for a moment before she picked up her skirts, ran down the steps, and flew onto the path. He barely had time to open his arms to catch her in a hug.
Kate leaned back, smiling up at him. “I want to hear everything.”
Tevin looked past her to see his parents in the doorway.
He let go of Kate. “Later. I promise.”
They made their way up the stairs, stopping on the porch, since Florencia and Brouchard blocked the entrance. For a long moment, no one spoke, the night full of crickets and the clop of horseshoes from the street. Brouchard sighed and stepped back. “Welcome home.”
“Wipe your boots.” Florencia folded her arms and followed her husband inside.
Kate hugged Amaury and Val. “I missed you all so much.” She said the words quietly, making sure their parents didn’t hear them.
Since Tevin had come back empty-handed, his parents put him and Amaury to work around the house. They wanted to make sure Tevin and Amaury knew their place, and their place was mucking out stalls and scrubbing floors. At least they were together, even if Val spent her days moping and Amaury was back to his tight-lipped ways.
Besides, if Tevin worked, he didn’t think, and thinking right now was not going in his favor. His brain seemed to delight in pulling up memories of Merit, connecting her to the most trivial things. He couldn’t eat cake anymore. The beeswax polish they used on the furniture almost brought him to his knees because it smelled like the stuff she used to shine her horns. He was miserable, and it was exacerbated by the everyday tension of living with his parents. Residing in the DuMont house was an exercise in waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Sleeping was the worst. He dreamed of Merit constantly.
Basically, his brain was a diabolical villain, trying to destroy him from the inside.
A week after they came home, Val found Tevin sitting outside in the grass near the stables, scrubbing the horse tack.
“How goes your moping?” Val asked, flopping onto the grass.
“Excellent. It’s some excellent moping. Top-notch. Yours?”
“I tried writing a love letter.”
Tevin, who’d taken the saddle out into the sun so he could see the seam better to brush the dirt away, paused, squinting through the bright sunlight at his cousin. “You’re not much of a wordsmith, Val. Was it any good?”
“No. I burned it.”
“That’s for the best, then.” He went back to the saddle.
“I was thinking of using the mirror to call Cedric, you know, for help with my writing.”
Tevin looked up from the saddle again. “Why would you do that? I mean, if you can’t think of yourself, think of Kaiya.”
Val rolled to the side so she could prop herself up with an elbow. “The point I’m trying to make is that I’ve hit some pretty desperate levels.”
“Apparently.”
“What are we going to do, Tevin?” Val asked. “You’re not just going to sit here, are you?”
Tevin shrugged. “What do you want me to do, Val?” He glared at the saddle, throwing down his brush in disgust. “She’s made her choice.”
“Tell her she’s making a mistake. That you made a mistake.” Val huffed in annoyance. “I figured you’d come to your senses if I gave you a few days to mull things over, but now I’m concerned that you have the brain of a pudding.”
“What are you talking about?” He left the saddle, deciding to go to the woodpile. He had the sudden urge to hit something very hard.
“You love her, you big lummox,” Val said, giving him a shove.
“Why won’t you leave it alone?” Tevin’s lip curled up in a snarl.
“Because I’m your cousin, but I’m also your friend, and as such it is my job to tell you when your head is so far up your ass that I’m surprised you’re still talking.”
Tevin picked up the ax and grabbed a log, placing it on the flat stump they used for splitting wood. “Why don’t you get it? It doesn’t matter how I feel if she doesn’t feel the same way. She’d only be trading one unhappy marriage for another.”
Val crossed her arms and stared at him while he swung, splitting the wood with a loud crack. “It isn’t the same at all, you donkey.”
“Latimer is the superior choice. He’s her choice.”
“Give her a chance to make a better choice!” Val threw up her arms. “So you’re not respectable. So you’re a con man. So you snore sometimes and it makes a weird whistling noise that’s really annoying.”
“He’s a pickpocket, too,” Kate offered as she walked up, her arm around Amaury’s waist.
“But a snappy dresser,” Amaury said solemnly. “Never let them take that away.”