Downfall of the Curse

by Deborah Grace White

  “I really do think I’ll go rest,” she said hastily, turning toward the door. “Without more information, there’s not much point in discussing it further.”

  “Not so fast,” said Cody darkly, grasping her arm with a restraining hand. “You still have some explaining to do.”

  “What for?” Lucy protested. “It’s not my fault I was targeted by some discontented—”

  “Don’t act all innocent, Lucy,” Matheus interrupted impatiently. “Why did you sneak off without us?”

  “I didn’t sneak off,” Lucy contradicted, tugging uncomfortably at her sleeve. “I wanted to explore the city a little, and I thought everyone was resting. Then I ran into Rasad, and…” She trailed off, taking in the unimpressed looks on Cody’s and Matheus’s faces. “Jocelyn and Kincaid came with me!”

  “Only because Joss insisted we force ourselves in,” muttered Kincaid. He fell silent under the combined glares of his wife and her best friend.

  “I have to agree,” said Lord Rodanthe, his eyes passing from Lucy to Jocelyn. “We did receive your message alerting us to the outing, but next time, Lady Rodanthe and I would prefer you to speak to us personally, to give us the opportunity to accompany you if you intend to leave the palace.”

  “I understand,” said Jocelyn, sending him an apologetic look. “None of us meant to cause any trouble.”

  “Of course not,” said Lord Rodanthe, inclining his head in acknowledgment. “I would like to discuss this matter further, of course, but if you’ll excuse me for the moment, I will go and make Lady Rodanthe aware of all that has transpired.”

  With a gracious nod to the group, he departed.

  Cody wasn’t so polite in his admonishment. “Don’t do it again, Lucy,” he said the moment the nobleman was gone, his voice stern. “If you’re leaving the palace, I want to be there.”

  “And so do I,” chimed in Matheus. “Quite apart from the whole people-trying-to-abduct-you thing, I don’t like the idea that this Rasad is sniffing around my sister so much, inviting you to wander around with him when I don’t even know you’ve left your room.”

  “Matheus,” snapped Lucy, quelling her brother with a glare. The fifteen-year-old’s protective posturing would have been entertaining if it wasn’t so mortifying in front of their particular audience. Matheus fell silent, but his expression was mutinous. It didn’t help Lucy’s credibility that Eamon was giving the younger boy an approving nod.

  Lucy eyed the two of them, debating whether to give them both a piece of her mind, when Jocelyn chuckled.

  “What?” Lucy demanded, rounding on her friend.

  “Sorry, it’s just…” Jocelyn didn’t quite manage to hold back a smile. “The two of you,” she gestured to Lucy and Matheus, “are exactly like they were in the throne room.”

  “Who?” Lucy asked, nonplussed.

  “Lady Yasmin and Lord Yosef.”

  Kincaid grinned. “You’re right. Lady Yasmin gave her brother exactly that look when he spoke without her permission.”

  Lucy scowled, but Matheus was the one to actually protest.

  “Hey! You’re comparing me to some idiot who attacks strangers in dark alleys?”

  “It wasn’t dark,” Lucy corrected, suddenly seeing the humor of it all as she remembered Lord Yosef’s attempt to defend his conduct after she disarmed him.

  “That’s not the point,” Matheus shot at her.

  “I wasn’t comparing you to him generally, Matheus,” said Jocelyn soothingly. “Just the way you and Lucy were interacting.” She grinned at her husband. “Does Lavinia ever try to boss you and Ormond around like that?”

  “Frequently,” said Kincaid easily, still stretched on the settle. “But it doesn’t really work out for her, considering she’s so much younger. Seven years younger than me, and twelve years younger than Ormond…she never had a chance, poor thing.”

  Lucy barely refrained from rolling her eyes. From what Jocelyn had told her, and what she had herself witnessed when they were both attendants at Jocelyn and Kincaid’s wedding, Princess Lavinia was no one’s idea of a “poor thing”. The fifteen-year-old had no difficulty standing up for herself, and was much more in the habit of setting the whole castle by the ears than being bossed around by her older brothers.

  “What about you?” Kincaid asked, giving his wife a pointed look. “Can you subdue your brother with a single glance?”

  Jocelyn gave a very unladylike snort. “Hardly.”

  “Well,” said Eamon with maddening superiority, “probably because we’re twins, it’s a little different.”

  “Yes,” said Jocelyn dryly. “I’m sure it has everything to do with us being twins, and nothing to do with you being the most over-confident person I’ve ever met, to the point that you were born with the magical ability to inspire confidence in people.”

  “My power doesn’t work on you,” protested Eamon. “You can’t blame that for you not being as successful in bossing me around as Lucy is with—”

  “Hey!” Lucy protested. She had been slightly taken aback by their banter, still unused to hearing them openly talk about their magic. But Eamon’s accusation pulled her right back in. “When you have three younger brothers, all of whom have thought that they were grown up and ready to take on the world from the age of ten, you have to be a little bossy sometimes to keep everyone in one piece.”

  “I don’t know, Matheus seems pretty level-headed to me,” said Eamon mildly.

  “Thank you Eamon,” said the fifteen-year-old with a dignity that couldn’t fail to make even Lucy’s lips twitch, irate as she was.

  “If you kids are all done squabbling,” said Cody vaguely, looking like he had been paying only cursory attention to their conversation, “let’s get back to the point. What are we going to do about this Lord Yosef and his attack?” He turned his gaze on Lucy. “You must have had a reason for not wanting to see him punished.”

  Lucy sighed. “I guess I just figured I’d rather have answers than retribution.” And, she added silently, I have no idea who to trust, and I don’t want to be used. But she didn’t especially want to discuss trust with present company.

  “We’d all like answers,” said Cody, his forehead creased in thought. “But we have to be careful about looking for them.” He gave Lucy a long look before letting his breath out in a big exhale. “Well, at least we got one good day of training in since we’ve been in the South Lands, so you weren’t so rusty.” He gave her an approving smile. “You did well, Lucy. And I’m glad the Thoranian court knows we’re not helpless.”

  Lucy acknowledged the compliment with a nod, eager to bring the conversation to a close. She could see Eamon looking between her and Cody, realization growing behind his eyes.

  “I really do want to go rest before the meal,” she said to the room at large. “It’s been a bit of a strange morning.”

  “Yes,” said Jocelyn briskly, giving her head a little shake. “And we’re supposed to be meeting with our trade delegate before the formal negotiations open this afternoon, Kincaid.”

  Her husband let out a sigh that said all anyone needed to know about how he felt about his official duties on the trip, but he didn’t actually protest.

  “The Kyonan delegates wanted to meet before this afternoon as well,” said Eamon quickly, as Lucy edged toward the door. “I’d better go and find them.”

  Lucy had the distinct impression that Eamon was making an excuse to leave at the same time as her, and she wasn’t surprised when he followed her all the way to her door.

  “Training,” he said without preamble. “That’s what you and Cody were doing in the jungle all day.”

  Lucy sighed. “Yes.”

  Eamon was silent for a moment, the confusion clear on his face. “Why couldn’t you have trained at the castle? Don’t you remember the training courtyard they showed us during our tour? It looked just as good as our one at home.”

  Lucy shrugged uncomfortably. “It was Cody’s idea. He wanted to train in the jungle.
And he wanted to show me some of the places from his childhood. From my parents’ time in Nohl.”

  “Then why didn’t you just say that’s what you were doing?” Eamon pressed. “Instead of being mysterious, and making everyone think…”

  Lucy raised an eyebrow. “Think what?”

  Eamon grimaced. “You know what I’m trying to say, Lucy. You acted so secretively, it was as though…” His eyes widened slightly, as if having a revelation. “I’m being stupid, aren’t I? You didn’t want to advertise what you were doing because you didn’t want to remind everyone of your mother’s activities, and how she was—”

  “Technically guilty of treason?” Lucy finished dryly. “That was in my mind, yes.”

  “Of course it was,” said Eamon. “It should have been obvious.”

  Lucy squirmed slightly, too embarrassed to admit that the obvious reason had only been a secondary motivation. She had been much more concerned about everyone in Nohl finding out about her unladylike skills. She peeked up at Eamon to find him frowning slightly at her.

  “You could still have told me, though, and Jocelyn.”

  “I don’t have to answer to you, Eamon,” Lucy reminded him. “I’m not strictly part of your delegation, and even if I was, Lady Rodanthe knew I was with Cody.” She gave him a long look, realizing that underneath his confusion, he was genuinely relieved at the explanation. “You didn’t really think that Cody and I were…I don’t know…sweethearts, did you?” she asked, lowering her voice.

  “Of course not,” said Eamon quickly. “I just…I just couldn’t understand why you would be secretive about spending time with him, and I…” He dropped his gaze. “I guess I didn’t like being reminded that I have no right to ask about who you’ve been spending time with.”

  “But it’s the truth,” said Lucy, speaking more gently than she had to Eamon in months.

  He let out a big breath. “I know.” He met her eyes again, a pained half smile on his face. “It’s not the first time I’ve teased you about meeting secret sweethearts, is it? You didn’t seem to mind before.” His gaze was suddenly unsettlingly, familiarly intense. “Do you remember that day? In the meadow near—”

  “Don’t you have a meeting to prepare for, Eamon?” Lucy interrupted abruptly. It was her turn to lower her eyes, unable to meet that blazing look for another second.

  There was a moment of silence as Eamon seemed to debate whether to drop the matter. “Of course,” he said, his tone brisk. “And I’m keeping you from your rest.”

  Without another word, he turned and strode down the corridor. Lucy didn’t stay to watch his progress, slipping into her own room before he’d taken five steps. She rested her back against the closed door of her suite, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes so hard that she began to see stars.

  Did she remember that day? As if she could ever forget.

  There was too much uncertainty in her current situation. The last thing she needed was to dwell on complications from her past. But Eamon—frustrating, unreliable, magnetic nuisance that he was—had forced her to do just that. There was no point trying not to relive it, she told herself. She couldn’t help it now.

  After a brief struggle, she gave up her fruitless attempts to convince herself that she didn’t want to think about it, and let herself sink into the memory of that day. She could almost see the dappled sunshine of her achingly familiar forest home, could almost smell the summer wildflowers. She surrendered herself to the indulgence of once again being that younger, happier version of herself, the one who had no doubts, whose life was uncomplicated.

  “Eamon!”

  Lucy’s heart fluttered at the way Eamon’s whole face lit up when he heard her greeting. He turned his horse away from the rest of the group, heading in her direction.

  She didn’t get up from where she was seated among the wildflowers of the little meadow, just smoothed her skirts surreptitiously around her. She was doubly glad that she had stood fast against Cody’s attempts to get her to train like normal this morning. Her calculations had suggested that Eamon and his group would return today from seeing Jocelyn off to the edge of the forest, and she had been right.

  The timing of her walk to collect blooms from the clearing was simply a lucky coincidence. But she was more than happy to have intercepted the prince before he reached Raldon and was mobbed by her over-eager brothers.

  “Don’t you make a pretty picture, surrounded by wildflowers?” Eamon teased, swinging down from the saddle as his horse slowed to a stop beside her. “Not here to meet a secret sweetheart, are you?”

  Lucy looked up at him through her lashes, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I don’t know. Am I?”

  For a moment Eamon just stared down at her, the intensity of his expression filling her with a mixture of exhilaration and nerves.

  Then he laughed lightly and dropped to the grass, settling himself in a less than regal posture, his lean and muscled frame supported on one elbow with his long legs stretched out in front of him.

  “Sounds like I’d better hang around to make sure,” he said.

  Lucy smiled to herself. She had no objection.

  A slight movement nearby called the prince’s attention to the two guards who had broken off from the rest of the group to follow him over. They were dismounting nearby. Eamon gave them a long-suffering look that almost made Lucy giggle. The guards’ faces remained impassive, but when Eamon followed up with a glare and a meaningful tilt of the head, they relented and retreated to a more discreet distance.

  “We can head back to Raldon, if you like,” said Lucy, watching Eamon for his reaction. “They don’t stick so close to you there.”

  “True, but we’d be surrounded by your family, then,” said Eamon, twirling a leaf idly between his fingers.

  Lucy grimaced. “My brothers can be a little overwhelming.”

  Eamon laughed. “I don’t find them overwhelming.” He met her eye, a smile curving up one side of his mouth. “I just don’t want to have to share you. What’s the point of coming back without Jocelyn if we’re so besieged by your family that I can’t get a moment alone with you?”

  Lucy’s heartbeat sped up, but she tried to keep her expression serene. It wasn’t an easy feat when she wanted to grin with delight at his answer.

  “So you saw Jocelyn off all right?” she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

  “Yes,” said Eamon, his brows drawing together slightly. “She’s on her way to Montego.”

  “What is it?” Lucy asked, sitting up straighter at the shift in his mood. “Are you worried about her?”

  “A little,” Eamon admitted. “I’m not at all sure about this whole trip, you know.” He gave Lucy a sideways glance. “You know that the Valorian royals are trying to set her up with their crown prince, right?”

  Lucy nodded. “I think everyone knows, to be honest. But Jocelyn said that there was no obligation.”

  “Yes,” Eamon agreed, but he sounded unconvinced. For a moment he was silent, his eyes fixed on the distance. Then he sighed. “The trouble is that Jocelyn has a way of creating obligations in her head even when no one else expects them of her.”

  Lucy grimaced. She wished she could disagree, but she knew Jocelyn too well. “Surely your parents won’t let her be bullied into a political marriage if she doesn’t want it,” she said reassuringly.

  Eamon smiled. “That’s an understatement. My father is ready to declare war at the very idea that anyone over there might try to push Joss into it.” He paused, then cast a glance toward his guards on the other side of the clearing. “That was a joke, obviously.”

  Lucy laughed. “I know.”

  “But you know how my father feels about political marriages. He certainly won’t be prodding Jocelyn in that direction. Or me, for that matter.”

  Lucy suddenly felt Eamon’s eyes on her, and she kept her gaze on her lap, her cheeks growing warm. She therefore had no warning before she felt Eamon’s hand brush her cheek, his fingers warm a
s he tucked a stray strand of hair back behind her ear.

  “And as it happens,” the prince continued casually, “I have my own reasons for being extremely grateful for that.”

  She looked up then, unable to resist any longer. He had a crooked smile on his face, as impossibly confident and engaging as he always was. But in spite of his light tone, his eyes gave him away—they burned into hers with too much intensity.

  “Is—is that so?” she stuttered, wishing she had half his self-possession.

  His smile softened, losing none of its charm but becoming somehow more intimate. “Yes, it is. I happen to be very eager to have the chance to choose my own bride when the time comes.”

  “How nice for you,” said Lucy conversationally. “Being a prince and all, you can just choose whoever you like, I suppose.”

  Eamon laughed ruefully, acknowledging the hit. “Not quite,” he admitted. “I would still have to win the lady over, of course. Convince her to choose me, too.”

  “And how would you do that?” Lucy asked, cursing her breathlessness. Her every nerve was on fire with the exhilaration of their banter. They had been flirting unashamedly ever since her first ball, but this conversation was bringing them closer than ever before to genuinely serious territory.

  “Well, that depends,” said Eamon, giving her a speculative look. “Would most girls like a man with a bit of adventure in him, do you think? A rebellious streak, even?”

  “Most girls,” Lucy assented, barely restraining a smile.

  “Come on then,” said Eamon, speaking a little too loudly as he stood and offered her his hand. He gave her the ghost of a wink as he pulled her to her feet. “I suppose we should head into town.”

  Lucy followed him, perplexed, as he walked over to where the guards were standing, keeping an eye on his horse as well as their own.

  Eamon received the bridle of his own mount with a grateful nod. He turned to Lucy, and her heart fluttered wildly as he grasped her by the waist, lifting her into the saddle with surprising strength. Then he swung himself up behind her in a fluid and graceful movement.