“My mother put you on the list of suitors?” Maray exploded. “Is that why you have been sneaking around her so much lately? Is that why you returned empty-handed when you were supposed to bring back Jemin—my Jemin?” Maray didn’t care that she was hurting Heck. She saw how he shrank with every word she flung at him, and she did it anyway, all her anger, her pain, her helplessness channeling through her mouth at the one person who probably deserved it least. “Are you insane, Heck? You know exactly what’s going on. Jemin and I. There is no Heck in that equation.”
When the storm of Maray’s words ceased, Heck remained silent. He didn’t turn around and run the way. Maray had imagined he should. Instead, he fought with the moisture in his eyes. Maray’s words had actually hit him harder than she’d thought. A pang of guilt flooded her chest, and she buried her own face in her hands, hiding her shame.
“That’s what I told your mother,” Heck informed Maray in a hoarse voice. Then, after a second of silence, his shape appeared beside her as he sat on the bed, not unlike the first time they’d met in Jemin’s room, with some distance. “Do you think this was my idea? Do you think I like that someone is dictating who I should marry?” he asked, tone now much gentler and less broken up.
“Welcome to my world,” Maray commented. “But unlike me, you can tell her ‘no’.”
“Not entirely true,” Heck countered. “I wish I had a choice. But if you think about it—” He gestured with his hands beside her, repeating the other four names on the list. “You said it yourself. We don’t know the last thing about those boys… men… whatever. They could be older than your father or as young as thirteen. And even if they are a decent age for you, who says they are equally decent when it comes to how they treat you and all of Allinan?”
Heck had a point, Maray had to admit. She lifted her head and eyed him from the side.
“And even if I knew all of them in person, I could never let anything happen to you.” He was quiet for an awkward second before he seemed to gather his thoughts. “I owe it to Jemin to make sure no one harms you and no one forces you to do anything—” he met her gaze, actually blushing, “—you know, marital duties and stuff.”
“Marital duties,” Maray repeated for the first time since Corey had walked into her room earlier, amused by how difficult it seemed to be for Heck to express himself.
“If anyone tries to force themselves on me, trust me, I’ll fry their Crown Jewels.”
Heck regarded her with a somewhat pained expression. “Really?”
Maray nodded. “A knee between the legs would do, also.”
“But the Allinan public will expect an heir.” Heck gave her something new to consider, and before any new accusations could blubber from Maray’s lips, Heck said, “Your heir doesn’t have to be mine, you know…” He gave her an awkward look. “It could be Jem’s.”
Maray’s jaw dropped, but nothing came out.
“I simply mean—just because we’d be married wouldn’t mean that you’d have to be unhappy. You could still be with Jem, in secret of course, but you could be with him.”
Maray ignored his words. She wasn’t ready to think about marriage, let alone the concept of an ‘in-name-only’ type of thing and all of the complications that might bring.
“Does he know?” she asked instead. “Does Jemin know?”
Heck reached up with his hand to touch the shoulder closer to Maray. “Yes, about me being on the list. No, to everything else.” He grimaced.
“And he is okay with it?”
“What do you think?” Heck asked, eyebrows wandering up to his hairline, and waited for Maray to respond. “Exactly.” He smirked at her. “I wish shifter-Jem had your patience. He almost tore my arm off when I told him about Laura’s plan.”
Maray couldn’t imagine Jemin hurting Heck, not even in his worst moments. The transformation must have taken its toll on his usually calm demeanor. She swallowed the need to ask holes into Heck about Jemin’s whereabouts and forced herself to focus.
“Is it really just my mother’s plan?” Maray asked, finding it too painful to go deeper into the Jemin discussion. Neelis had made it clear he wouldn’t be around the palace for a while, and if she believed everything Pia had introduced her to, he wouldn’t be the exact same Jemin she had fallen in love with—enough of him, but not the same. All she wanted was to see him, to talk to him and find out if there was the slightest chance that they would be together again—even if it were to happen thirty years from now. For the moment, she had to think of more than herself and her own crumbling heart.
“You would be willing to start something based on what we both know is a lie?” Maray asked and couldn’t believe she was really considering this. With or without the Jemin-wild-card, Heck was surely the one of the candidates she knew best, and his family would be pleased, warranting the crown a strong ally in whatever was about to come for Allinan.
“That’s not what I said,” Heck corrected. “All I know is that your mother wants a suitor for you who she can trust, and she trusts me. The Brendal family is one of the most reputable among the nobles at Allinan court, and I am ready to fulfill my duty to my family.”
“Duty,” Maray repeated and raised both eyebrows. “I am actually not that bad of a choice, you know—being a Princess of Allinan and everything.”
Heck’s chuckle filled the air—not the light-hearted one she was used to but still a chuckle. “Neither am I.”
“I am sorry, Heck.” Maray leaned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes, thinking of Jemin.
Corey
“Blue,” Corey said to herself. “Not purple.” The pages spread out on the desk in front of her were all pointing at one method. A potion. And as she kept stirring vial after vial, each of them turned purple, not blue as they should. Feris’ instructions had said ‘green and purple are yellow and blue’, and for now, the potion was the only thing purple in the process. She had figured out the green and yellow part earlier that week when she had collected herbs from the ceiling where they were drying in the spare room, which had once served as Maray’s bedroom the day before she had been abducted by whoever had been able to disguise themselves as her.
Corey tended to believe it hadn’t been Gan Krai, for Gan Krai had been the red-eyed Yutu that had come after them in the courtyard. So who remained as an option? Rhia? Feris? She didn’t want to believe it had been him who had led Maray out of Corey’s protection—unless he had done it to protect Maray. Who knew? After all, the motives for all questionable actions in helping Rhia might have really been protecting Corey—and Allinan. And for anyone who had grown up in this realm, every Princess of Allinan was equal to Allinan. He might even have snatched Rhia away from Jem’s sword when Jem had attacked her so Jem couldn’t kill her but because he wanted to protect Laura from dying alongside Rhia—
Corey watched the yellowed herbs circle in the clear liquid, starting over for what felt like the hundredth time. This took all of her focus, and she couldn’t afford to be guessing about Feris if she wanted to get it right at some point. Just as she reached for the essence of Krai salt on the shelf behind the desk, the door burst open, and she accidentally pushed over the closest vial as she spun around, reaching for her dagger.
“You can wipe that up later,” the Crown Princess informed her as she marched into the study, letting herself in with Scott’s help.
Corey was shocked and relieved all at once, and curtseyed clumsily while pushing her dagger back into her belt.
“Your Royal Highness, what can I do for you?”
Scott screened the room with his eyes, walking in a half-circle between the shelves so he could peer into every hidden corner of the study for potential danger, not unlike Heck and Jem whenever they escorted Maray somewhere. Now, it was only Heck. Jem was somewhere in the woods, probably learning how to master the beast inside him—
“We need to talk.” Laura crossed the room and sat down at the round table where Corey normally took her meals.
“Never mind that.” Laura dismissed Corey’s attempt at hospitality and gestured at the free chair. Scott had returned to the area where the door to the spare room was and remained there, sword in hand, and fell into a waiting position. “We have business to attend to.”
The Crown Princess sounded less like an Allinan royal and more like an otherworldly merchant. She had heard about those from Jem and Heck. Gingerly, Corey sat as requested and rested her hands in her lap, unsure if she truly wanted to know what this was all about.
“I have come to a conclusion,” Laura said, opening the conversation without any of the pleasantries court protocol demanded.
Corey waited in silence, unsure of what to say.
“The ritual to break the spell,” Laura asked with morbid curiosity. “Have you figured out the details?”
Corey understood now. Laura wanted to know, now that she had apparently developed an opinion on it, if Corey could actually break the binding spell.
“Not all the details, Your Royal Highness,” Corey answered truthfully. “But most.”
Laura raised an eyebrow, apparently surprised by Corey’s response. “You need to do me a favor, Corey.” The Crown Princess leaned closer over the table. “You need to promise me that you will figure out how to revert this spell and you will do it by the end of this year.”
Corey took a shallow breath. That was two days away. The New Year’s ball for the suitors was in less than forty-eight hours, and Corey had wanted to attend to help Maray as much as she could, even if it was just from a distance. She had wanted to observe each of the suitors, whose names had been kept secret and would remain that way until the opening of the ball. Every insight, every detail could change the course of Maray’s happiness, and if she couldn’t be with the man she loved, she should at least be with someone who would be on her side and the side of Allinan, and not on his own side.
“And there is no way you can convince me to change my mind,” Laura clarified and folded her hands on the table.
“So, you are really considering doing this?” Corey interpreted and was still shocked when Laura nodded gracefully as if she didn’t have anything to fear, not that the spell might backfire and do something worse than bind Rhia and Laura together, or that the chance one or both of them would lose their lives in the process.
“I am not only considering it, Corey.” Laura glanced at Commander Scott, who joined them at the table, summoned by the Crown Princess’ look. “I have to do it. If there is the slightest chance that I will be free of that tie to Rhia, which will surely kill me when she is assassinated by someone—and I can imagine it’s only a matter of time before she will be. She has made plenty of enemies during her erratic reign.”
Corey turned cold all of a sudden. Laura was right. Independent of Allinan and its fate with or without Rhia, Laura was in danger from every attack on Rhia. But the fact that both of them might die during the ritual—
“Don’t overthink it, Corey,” Laura said without the slightest emotion in her face. “Even Gerwin agrees, and Commander Scott.”
The Ambassador agreed? Did Maray know? Hadn’t they decided no more secrets?
“If we look at the strategic defense of Allinan and especially the capital,” Scott explained, “we need to think of the best way to protect its ruler. And while Rhia is no longer fit to rule, Princess Laura here is.”
Corey felt her eyes widen. They weren’t the first ones to think it and to say it. Jem’s father had been the one to set things in motion, and Langley had interpreted it his own way. The Revolutionaries had already tried to overthrow the Queen before Maray had ever set foot into Allinan, and much to Corey’s relief, they had failed. Otherwise, Allinan would have been left without a ruler and vulnerable to attacks from the outside—including the Shalleyn. It was only now, when Maray was finally at court and had claimed her title as Princess of Allinan, that there was actually someone to step into the role in case the rest of the line disappeared. Allinan was no longer doomed to be torn apart by power-hungry nobles.
“What does the Queen say to your plan?” Corey asked, knowing that it couldn’t be that simple. It never was.
Laura shook her head. “Gerwin, Scott, and you—no one else knows or is supposed to know until the very end. Promise me you’ll keep your mouth shut.”
Corey nodded in reflex. The truth was she was terrified—of what would happen if she kept that promise and Maray found out, or if she broke the promise and Laura found out. Either way, it was up to her to figure out the spell—or to decide not to and lie to her Princess in order to keep her fate out of her own hands.
Either way, there weren’t many hours to figure out the last detail, the meaning of the colors purple and blue.
“I’d better get started, then,” Corey suggested and earned a pleased nod from Laura and Scott.
“Is there anything my team can provide you with to speed up the process?” Scott asked, hoping to be helpful. But Corey shook her head.
What she needed was to be alone. She had sent even Wil away so she wouldn’t be interrupted in her thought processes by his smoldering eyes.
“Very well, then.” Laura got to her feet. “I leave you to it. Scott will come to pick you up when it is time.” She was already marching back toward the door when she glanced back over her shoulder. “Be prepared, Corey. This is your chance to change the course of history.”
They were gone as quickly as they had shown up, leaving Corey to her thoughts; thoughts of desperation. While fifteen minutes ago, all she had wanted was to figure out how the ritual worked and why her potions kept swirling in purple instead of blue, now all she wanted was absolution for even being capable of engaging in a dangerous endeavor such as performing spells and rituals that could kill people. Battle magic as a self-defense mechanism was something entirely different. It could save her own life while it was never meant to kill anyone else, just stop them. But this...
Corey rested her elbows on the table and dropped her head into the palm of her hands, ready to cry, but before the first tears could escape, she managed to pull herself together. She had until the end of the year, less than forty-eight hours to figure out that color thing, and Corey wasn’t someone to give up that easily. She had to figure it out even if she was never going to use the ritual and the potion on anyone. She owed it to herself and to Feris to put together the missing pieces.
With a sigh, she got to her feet and dragged herself back to the lab desk. Her equipment, all glass and elaborate fibers beside metal tools, were what she had turned to whenever she’d had difficult times since childhood. It was where her skill excelled. And it was where her magic—the devil-child magic that supposedly came from the involvement of Gan Krai’s blood—didn’t offend people, all hidden behind the walls of Feris’ dusty study.
Corey picked up the wet towel and thrust it into the container for magic wastes beside the desk, careful not to let any of the liquid drip onto the rest of the laid out ingredients. What was missing? She had checked every inch of the parchment in order to put together the potion, but for some reason, every time she mixed, it turned out purple.
“Okay,” she said to the thin bag of yellowed herbs in front of her. “Shall we have another run at this?”
Carefully, she pulled out a small bundle of leaves and dropped them in a fresh vial she had fetched from the shelf. She poured distilled water over them and started all over again. The words to keep the potion going were easy. “Forsaken is the blood that runs through both veins, the one should lose what the other one gains.” Corey repeated the lines tirelessly until the liquid’s shade changed from a faded yellow to a smoky purple.
“Again?” she asked the potion. “Are you serious?”
Maray
The morning of the ball, a thick la
yer of snow had settled in the palace gardens. Maray glanced out the windows on her way through the building on her search for her father. He had been on his feet for the first time since the attack on his life. Her mood in no way resembled the sunny light that filtered in through the lace curtains, it was more like the dark grey storm clouds hovering over the castle like a harbinger of the end of her freedom.
“Dad?” She found Gerwin standing by the entrance to the grand gallery, shoulder propped against the doorframe. He looked up, and his gaze found her as she rushed along the corridor.
Maray no longer noticed the footsteps of the guards who followed her everywhere she went. But as she listened, she noticed that they were different from what she was used to hearing. While she had gotten accustomed to Jemin’s lion-like strides and Heck’s bouncy steps, even Pia’s almost soundless shifter movements, the guards who were on duty weren’t either of them. They were Goran and Pete, taking over from Heck by Maray’s wish. He was spending the day with his family, a tradition for every suitor, Maray had learned. That meant that four other young—or not so young—gentlemen were hanging out with their parents, talking tactics to gain the Princess’ trust and win her affections. What they didn’t know was that Maray had made a deal with the fifth gentleman. She had agreed to choose him. It had cost her all her strength and self-restraint to say the words; that Heck had been right, and so had her mother. If she did have to choose, she’d rather spend forever with Heck than with some random noble who could potentially be the end of the person she knew herself to be. She didn’t want to lead a life of pretenses. It was likely the other suitors hadn’t even heard of her magic, that they would damn her for her gifts and powers. After all, what she was capable of was no less than what a devil-child could do—potentially worse.
“You look better,” Maray noted as she joined her father on the threshold of the open double doors.
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