Breaking His Spell

by Foster Bridget Cassidy

  I glanced at the books on the tabletop. The closest tome had gilded letters on the spine reading “Potent Potions.” These must be what Desian and Carishina had used to research bloomberry. I opened the cover and flipped through the neatly scrawled information. This was not one of the books I’d brought from home. It must have come from Yarling’s stash. I scanned each potion’s list of ingredients, stopping only when the list contained bloomberry, intent on finding the prince’s spell.

  Bloomberry. An interesting ingredient, but so singular in its effects. Used to make droughts for slumber, or the opposite, for waking. Curious it could be used for both. I’d never utilized the plant in sleeping spells—relying on gombre seeds instead. Insomnia ailed mortals and magicians alike, so I was well versed in how to brew sleep aids.

  The current page was the potion Yarling had used on himself, something to put him to sleep. I read the entry carefully, raking my mind for any similar ingredients in the potions I’d concocted and forced down Yarling’s throat. None stood out. Besides both containing bloomberry, there was no other connection.

  The conclusion of the spell—the insistence its only cure was true love’s kiss—made my stomach clench. Surely the author of this book had to realize how such a pronouncement sounded. There was a cure for everything, every affliction, every addiction, every disease. All save death could be healed.

  Bloomberry was our only clue. I hoped Carishina could figure out the link soon.

  I flipped to the next page and noticed scribbles in the margins; a different colored ink and written by a different hand. A love potion, using smythskin lizard tails, friflower petals, and the hairs of the person intended to receive the affection. The added note in the corner read, “As a last resort.”

  So, Yarling had been thinking along the same lines as Carishina: use a love potion. The idea of forcing those emotions seemed so wrong, so tainted; I couldn’t imagine anyone stooping to that level. The idea had never even crossed my mind when I’d been with Vulten. I’d seen the love fade from his eyes, but I never once thought to artificially add the emotion back. The concept sickened me. I turned the page.

  This one was little better. A berserker spell. Used by combatants to gain incredible strength. But the enchantment only lasted for a short while, and the withdrawals from the potion could be devastating.

  Myl, I thought. Where did they find this book? In my dungeon mixing lair, I made cures for colds, headaches, illnesses. Protection potions for livestock or ships or soldiers. I focused on helpful properties, not squandered power for selfish gain.

  The door to the other room opened and Yarling emerged, looking pristine in a fresh silk shirt. He’d even had time to touch up his hair, the tips now black, contrasting with the natural auburn at his roots. A nice look complimenting his plum colored outfit.

  He glanced my direction and I hastily looked down at the book. I didn’t want him to catch me staring.

  “Do you need to change for dinner?” he asked, walking toward me.

  I looked up. His gaze lingered on the book I held. I closed its cover and set it back on the table.

  “No, I’m fine in this.”

  “Good, then we should head down.”

  I nodded. “You look very handsome, Yarling.”

  The prince smiled. “Thank you. I had this specially made for such an occasion.” He fingered the silk sleeve. “This is Antonio’s favorite color.”

  I grimaced. “You wear it well, Your Highness.”

  We walked out of the room. It came as no surprise when Carishina, Franik, and Desian were waiting out in the hallway. Carishina ran up to me and gripped my arm.

  “Klint! I’ve been allowed to stay here and train longer! The Alsa Alma gave me his permission.”

  I forced a smile, trying to squash my rising jealously. “That’s fantastic, Carishina. It looks like you’re doing very well with your studies here. I wonder why you pay better attention.” I glanced sideways at the dragon. Likely, my companion fixated on the shapeshifter’s good looks. Infatuation went a long way as motivation for the young ones.

  Desian met my eyes and offered a smile a tad too big to be a smirk. “I think Alma Carishina is blossoming under my care because she has a different way of looking at the world. The Almas, I’m sure, teach only one way, forcing all to think like them. Perhaps Alma Carishina will be the start of a new breed of Almas.”

  Carishina grinned. “It’s nothing like that, Desian,” she said, completely missing the threat buried in the dragon words. “Everything seems new and exciting here.”

  Franik cleared his throat. “Can we move on to pressing matters? How did the guardsman seem when he saw you two today?”

  I shrugged and glanced at Yarling. I hadn’t been paying attention to Antonio at all; the prince likely had, though.

  “Well,” Yarling supplied. “We stationed ourselves near his posts several times throughout the day. I know he noticed us.”

  “How did he seem?” Franik pressed. “Upset? Angry?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  He groaned. “Lord Desian? Did you notice?”

  Desian’s grin widened, showing the tips of his pointed teeth. “I know the guardsman was startled by the kiss.”

  Of course the wicked dragon had to bring up the kiss. I wanted to slap him.

  “Kiss?” Carishina asked. “What kiss?”

  “I was instructed,” I enunciated each syllable very clearly, “to kiss the prince this morning. The guardsman walked behind us.”

  Franik raised a single eyebrow. “And the display had an effect you think, Lord Desian?”

  He nodded. “More than I saw at any other point today.”

  Technically his words held a glimmer of truth, as Desian hadn’t been with us at any other point today, besides breakfast. I clenched my teeth to keep from grinding them in frustration. The dragon was up to something. His words and actions were too calculated, too rehearsed.

  Franik nodded. “Then you need to double the affection at the banquet tonight. I need you to sit close, touch each other, kiss occasionally. Act like normal lovers would.”

  I squeaked in protest. “Franik, I don’t think I can….”

  Yarling turned to me with pleading eyes. “Please, Klint. I know this is not what you’d choose to do, but I need your help in this. I wouldn’t ask if there were any other way.”

  I opened my mouth to say no, but the word froze on my tongue. I couldn’t deny the prince. Not when he was so honest in his request. “As you say, Your Highness. I’ll do as you wish.”

  He looped his hand around my arm and squeezed my wrist gently. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

  Franik eyed me, a hint of understanding in his gaze. “You know, Klint, you shouldn’t balk at this. It’s only acting. There’s no real feelings involved.”

  “Nothing but friendship,” Yarling added, lest I get the wrong idea and think him callously using me.

  No, I wasn’t worried about being used. I worried more about what Franik sensed in me. He knew the real reason I didn’t want to be affectionate with the prince.

  “We should go,” I said, wanting their scrutinizing to be directed elsewhere. I pulled slightly on the prince’s arm and he followed.

  Chapter Sixteen

  YARLING LEANED OVER and kissed me. Nothing more than a peck, a quick pressing of his lips to mine. It was the twelfth time he’d done so. My brain kept a mental tally.

  We sat at the high table, eating expertly prepared food with extravagant ingredients and fine wine. I hadn’t tasted any of it. The food had gone in my mouth, into my stomach, weighing me down like a lead ball. I felt nauseated.

  Around us, lords and ladies danced or clustered together in tight groups. Many cast glances at me. Or Yarling. Or both of us. My movement to the high table hadn’t been unnoticed by the upper crust of society. Nor were Yarling’s brief kisses or soft caresses. They likely speculated about me and our relationship. I did, too.

  I enjoyed sitting beside the pri
nce. He kept up the small talk as we ate, never once leaving me out of a conversation. I felt as if I were the center of his universe. He didn’t do a single thing without taking me into consideration first. When I emptied my wine cup, he summoned a servant to fill it. When I praised a particular dish, he made sure I received more. He pampered me, and I loved it.

  Except for the sinking sensation anytime I remembered this was all an act. This usually occurred when I spied Antonio on guard beside the table. I’d expected him to be by the door, like last night, but apparently guards rotated between positions on a daily basis, or else they’d grow lax and ineffective. Having the guardsman so close grated, but amplified Yarling’s displayed affection for me.

  “We should dance,” Yarling said suddenly.

  I nodded. We stood and I escorted Yarling out into the crowd. Spinning couples filled the floor. Even the young prince, Panpir, swirled to the music with a young woman at least twice as old as him. They all made room for us as we took center stage. I didn’t know the tune, but I followed the prince’s lead. His dancing was superb, elegant and carefree. He guided me through the steps without hesitation. We flowed beautifully through the song, as if the melody had been composed specifically for us.

  A dull ache formed in my heart, a familiar feeling. Earlier today, when we’d kissed in the hallway for Antonio’s sake, that had been pure desire. Now, with Yarling’s hand warm in mine, our eyes nearly level, and his body deliciously close, it wasn’t only desire. Deeper emotions swirled within me. Admiration. Respect. Fondness.

  Myl, curse me. I’ve fallen in love.

  I stumbled as the thought hit me. I stood on Yarling’s toe and threw off our rhythmic gait. I righted myself almost instantly, hardly more than a heartbeat later. We swayed once more. But the nervousness inside me buzzed.

  The prince tilted his head at me but didn’t speak about my misstep.

  We danced on in silence. I didn’t trust my voice; it would squeak or quaver, giving myself away. I couldn’t even meet his eyes.

  At the end of the song, Yarling’s hand tightened on my hip, guiding me forward. Instinctively, I allowed myself to be pulled close to him, already tipping my head to the side to receive his kiss.

  “Thanks for the dance,” he said as he pulled back.

  I simply nodded.

  Back at the table, Yarling took his place beside Desian. The king and queen on the other end smiled happily in our direction. Were they pleased Yarling seemed to have a love interest? Or were they still just relieved to have him awake? If they knew the difficulties of loving an immortal, they never would have allowed me by his side. Not that Yarling loved me. But from the others’ perspective, he might.

  “I’m sorry, Your Highness,” I said suddenly.

  Yarling turned away from Desian and raised an eyebrow. “What is it, Klint?”

  “Today’s activities wore me out. I’m afraid I’ll have to retire. Will you be angry?”

  He reached out a hand and squeezed my wrist. “Of course not. It was a tiring day. I bet you aren’t used to so much walking.”

  “Most definitely not. I walk from my room to my workshop and back.”

  The prince laughed, his eyes crinkling with humor. “I understand. I hope we can do the same tomorrow. Though we could take a carriage ride, if you’d prefer.”

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  I stood, bowed over his hand and placed a chaste kiss there. He nodded in return.

  I all but ran to my room. At the door, I heard Carishina call out my name. With her on my heels, I skulked into the chambers.

  “Why did you leave so soon?” she asked, closing the door behind her. “Are you feeling well?”

  “No, I’m not,” I told her, too tired to even snip. My body, my mind, my soul couldn’t take this anymore. This hurt. I couldn’t endure.

  I sank onto the bed, Carishina sitting beside me. She placed a hand on my shoulder, applying light pressure. “What’s the matter?”

  Her voice, usually so peppy, was calm and soothing. Even her energy seemed more relaxed. And I realized, she really cared for me. How did I ever earn her sympathy?

  I looked at her, letting her see the weaknesses within me. She deserved to have the whole truth. “Carishina, I think I’m falling in love with Yarling.”

  “I know you are.”

  A bit of my annoyance came back. “I’m being serious.”

  “So am I. I know you don’t believe, Klint; you’ve forced yourself not to believe. But Yarling is the one for you.”

  “True love’s kiss?”

  Surprisingly, she shook her head. “No. You try to hide what you feel deep down, but I know you well enough to see. There’s more to you than what’s on the surface, so much more. And with the prince, you’ve acted like yourself.”

  “Like myself? What does that even mean?”

  She smiled and took my hand in her own. “It means you’re loosened up. You put up such an act; you force yourself to appear unaffected by everything around you. With Yarling, you don’t.”

  “You’re wrong. Every time I’ve been with him it’s in order to perpetuate this lie. I’ve never been myself with him.”

  “Yes you have, and it’s because of the lie that you’ve allowed yourself to let go. Without the risk involved—because you were acting on behalf of the guardsman—you didn’t care about the outcome. You weren’t interested in being anything but your charming self.” She grinned as she said that the last, and I realized she did know me. She witnessed all my flaws and quirks and still wanted to be my friend. It was unthinkable.

  “You’re not as bad as you think,” she continued.

  I took a shaky breath. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Tell him how you feel.”

  “I can’t. Not because I’m afraid,” I added when she opened her mouth to argue. “Carishina, he’s in love with Antonio. I can’t… I won’t get in the way of those feelings. I only want him to be happy.”

  “You need to let him decide for himself, Klint. He’s a grown man, capable of making choices.”

  I shook my head. “He’s loved Antonio for so long. He’s known me for three days.”

  “Sometimes that’s all the time love needs.”

  She didn’t understand. She had no real experience with the subject at hand. She was just a silly child; her opinion didn’t matter.

  “Why are you my friend?” I asked, perplexed.

  “Why not?”

  I laughed in spite of myself. Such a Carishina answer. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  A knock sounded hollowly on the door. “Probably Franik, wondering why I left Yarling’s side.”

  “It might be Yarling,” Carishina interjected.

  “No, he’s enjoying himself downstairs.”

  I left Carishina sitting on the bed and walked to the door. When I swung it open, Guardsman Antonio stood there.

  “Alma Klint,” he said with a respectful bow. “May I talk to you a moment?”

  Besides our first meeting, I hadn’t seen the man this close. And then, I thought him an attempted murderer and hadn’t paid attention to his looks. Nor had I listened for the softness in his voice. His cheeks were ruddy, giving him a rugged aura, the look of a man who spent a lot of time outdoors. His blond hair, which had looked ordinary from across the room, shimmered up close. Even his eyes, a deep green, sparkled. He wasn’t nearly as ugly as I’d convinced myself. And his tone of voice soothed, like a softly trickling creek. A sound you could listen to for hours and never grow tired of it.

  I hated him.

  “What do you want?” I demanded.

  “We need to speak about Prince Yarling. It’s very urgent.”

  I pushed away my fury at this man and tried to think of why he was here. Perhaps the jealousy had worked, and he wanted to fight me. If so, he’d be in for a rude awakening. I’d caught him once already with my spell. Getting him again would be effortless.

  I made a motion with my hand
behind my back, telling—I hoped—Carishina to hide. The guardsman wouldn’t speak plainly if he knew we had another listener in the room.

  “Fine,” I said, opening the door farther and allowing him in. “But make it quick.”

  “As you say, Alma.”

  He entered the room and gave it a sharp, appraising glance. Likely his guard training forced him to survey a space for threats. I let my eyes gaze around as well, noticing Carishina was nowhere in sight. I could feel her, or her energy at least, coming from beside the wardrobe. She’s cloaked herself in the shadows, aided by a hiding charm.

  “Yes?” I asked, unable to keep the sneer off my face.

  Antonio’s face softened, a glimmer of sympathy in his eyes. “Alma, you misunderstand why I’ve come. I’m not here to fight you. I’ve come here to thank you.”

  My glare left, replaced by surprise. “What?”

  “I know Yarling has loved me. And as much as I wish my feelings could be different, he’s only been a charge to me, someone I’ve been assigned to watch over. Oh, it’s more than that, Alma. I’m very fond of him. But only as a friend. I’m glad you’ve been able to steer his heart in a different path. I hated to see him suffer so much.”

  I felt the wall against my back; I couldn’t recall taking the steps away from the guardsman. This man hadn’t changed his feelings. Nothing we’d done to help had worked. Yarling had lost him forever now, since Antonio believed I’d taken his place.

  Yarling would be devastated. He’d never recover from this.

  I lashed out before I could think. My hands stretched, sending a bolt of energy into the guardsman. He uttered a soft cry, then fell to the ground in an unconscious heap.

  “Klint!” Carishina said, rushing to my side. “What did you do?”

  “I just knocked him out,” I told her calmly. Outside, I was stone cold. Inside, I simmered with rage. Why had this man resisted Yarling? How could he not see the wonders inside the prince? The skill and power? The overcompensating arrogance to cover his inexperience? The half smiles or full smiles, or even the frowns?