Brutal Curse

by Casey Bond

  “Yes,” she breathed.

  My heart lodged in the pit of my stomach. I couldn’t imagine being forced to remain here in the castle, forced to do the Queen’s bidding for hundreds of years and watching countless players fight and lose. “If we win, will you be set free? Will the curse be lifted?”

  Instead of answering, the gown lifted from the hanger with unseen hands and gathered into folds. I let her tug it over my head, down along my waist and over my hips, the gossamer fabric whispering on my skin. Cinched at each shoulder and crossing my body at the breasts, the swaths of fabric wound around to my back where the Unseen chambermaid and former player tied them tightly. The skirts cascaded to the floor with long slits all around the circumference, revealing my legs when I walked.

  “It fits perfectly,” I marveled.

  “Queen Coeur does not make mistakes.” It sounded like a warning coming from her mouth, despite the tinkling voice through which it was expressed.

  “Duly noted,” I commented dryly. “Now, we can’t give you a human name in case it’s accidentally your given name…”

  She gasped. “I hadn’t considered that, Miss Arabella. Now that you mention it, I’m not sure this is such a good idea.”

  Undeterred, I cut off her protests. “Can I call you Brave?”

  Silence. Then, “Why would you give me such a name? I’m not brave in the least.”

  “You’re wrong,” I argued softly. “In the short time I’ve been speaking to you, I can already tell you’re one of the bravest people I’ve ever met. You played and lost and were cursed, but you’re still living. You’re still fighting. You’re a warrior, and Brave is a more than fitting name. If I lose, I hope I can be as courageous as you are.”

  She was quiet for a moment. Did I offend her?

  “I would be honored to bear the name, my lady, but we must not tell anyone else about it. Names are powerful things.” With that, she began brushing my hair with soft strokes and braided it down my back, pulling it up and arranging it like a crown on my head.

  Seeing the result in the gilded mirror, I smiled and asked, “Did you turn my hair into a crown to anger the Queen?”

  I could almost hear Brave smile. “She gave strict instructions that you and your partner should be treated like royalty. I’m only doing as she ordered.”

  Perhaps Brave was one of many Cursed and Unseen who might rise up against their queen. If she could be convinced to overthrow Coeur, so could the others. If we took a chance and began a game the Queen didn’t realize she was playing, one where she didn’t make the rules... we just might win. And winning was our only chance to survive.

  More than that, we needed to end the game once and for all, so no one else fell prey to Queen Coeur’s warped need for entertainment.

  As a child, I used to play Hide and Seek and Capture the Flag, but now Carden and I had to invent a new game.

  Kill the Queen.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ARABELLA

  Brave plucked my brows to shape them “appropriately” and swiped something cool and slimy over my lips. It tasted good. “Don’t eat it, child,” she admonished.

  “What is it?”

  “Gloss to make your lips shine.”

  Confused about all the ceremony and pomp, I scoffed, “Why all this if we’re expected to die in the end?”

  The powder Brave was using was iridescent, but I let her apply it because some of the dust stuck to her, revealing the shape of her arm. “She wants to endear her subjects to you so they will mourn when she ends you.”

  “Why would she do that?”

  “To remind them who their ruler is, because she thinks a ruler stays in power by making others fear her,” Brave whispered. “If you want my advice, don’t just make them like you. Make them love you. Make everyone in the kingdom and castle feel how wrong it is that she hurts you, and don’t be fooled by any kindness she offers tonight. Tomorrow, she will hurt you in ways you can’t even begin to imagine.”

  “Because she can?” I alleged.

  “Because she wants to make a point, and because she can, dear.” Brave walked to a small dresser. The container of powder bounced through the air with every step until she sat it down. Then a hand mirror floated toward me.

  I barely recognized myself in the reflection. It was me, but different. Gone was the waifish, sad face I’d seen so many times in my mother’s mirror.

  “Beauty is on your side. Wield it like a sword, sharp and sure,” she advised.

  “Queen Coeur is more beautiful.”

  “She is beautiful on the outside,” Brave admitted, “but within is nothing but rot. Show them your heart. Win her subjects and rip them away from her.”

  If only it was that simple! Most days it felt like the best of what was once me was gone. Shriveled up and dead.

  “I have something for you. Something you lost. It may bring you a small amount of comfort,” Brave whispered. From under the bed, she withdrew my makeshift sack comprised of a ratty quilt and laid it on the bed.

  I unfolded the dirty fabric and nearly sobbed when I saw the mirrored shard perched in the center of my things. “How did you get this?”

  “I didn’t. I can’t leave the castle grounds, but I know those who can.”

  Picking up the piece of mirror, I swallowed my tears. Small kindnesses can make big ripples.

  “I’ll take care of your things, Arabella.”

  “Thank you,” I rasped.

  Brave’s fingers found the crown of braided hair encircling my head. I imagined her with a satisfied smirk on her face. Queen Coeur was going to be livid, but I took comfort in what Brave told me. The Queen intended for us to live for a time. We just had to use that time to beat her; not only at her sadistic game, but to strip her of her crown forever. That was the only way we and the Unseen others would ever be free.

  At the end of this game, when Carden and I were deemed winners, I would make sure my heart wanted something better than riches. I’d make sure I wanted Coeur dead.

  “You’re ready,” Brave announced. “Keep your wits about you tonight, and keep away from Rule. He likes to play games even more than his mother does.”

  “The Queen has a son?” I asked, taken aback.

  “Yes, and he’s even more brutal than his mother.”

  As focused on Brave’s words as I was, I jumped when her hand smoothed my hair. Embarrassed, I hurried to say, “Sorry, I didn’t realize...”

  “It’s fine, Arabella. I am used to being Unseen.”

  “You shouldn’t have to live like this! I vow to do whatever I can to help end the curse that’s upon you.”

  She sniffled, but only muttered, “It’s time for the guards to collect you.”

  The thought of their meaty, iron fists clamped around my arms caused bile to slither up my throat.

  “They won’t harm you tonight,” Brave assured me.

  “What about beyond tonight?” I dared ask.

  “Queen Coeur would never hurt you in front of her subjects... not until the end of the game, at least. She will allow hope to bloom in your human heart, so the pleasure is that much more satisfying when she crushes it in her fists. The next five days will be the longest of your young life.”

  I wanted to ask her how she’d come to this place; if she ended up in the game just as I did. Was she given a choice to leave, or was she forced to participate? How did she end up Cursed and Unseen, when Coeur promised to kill me and Carden if we failed? But there was no time. I could hear the footfalls outside the door growing louder, closer.

  I wiggled my toes against the polished floor. “No shoes?”

  Brave clicked her tongue. “Your soles show that you often go without shoes, but whether or not you wear shoes is up to you. There are dozens in the chest, brand new and custom-made precisely to fit your feet. But I think this makes a
bigger statement. It tells the Queen that you will play the game your way, and that you’ll remain true to yourself while playing. That might be the best piece of advice I can give you, Arabella. Stay true to who you are inside.”

  I really hoped I could trust Brave. I wanted to believe she wouldn’t run to Coeur or one of her confidants the moment she left me and tell her every word that came out of my mouth. But the truth of the matter was that I needed someone on my side.

  If Brave had already played this game, she would be an invaluable source of information. If she’d been here hundreds of years, she could show me who the other failed players in this castle were on any given day. She could let me know where the pieces were positioned, and tell me how they moved. And she might be able to tell me how and why the endgame changed with me and Carden. Why would we be executed when she made the other players Cursed and Unseen?

  She saw me to the door, urging me to stand upright. When the soldiers, dressed in bright peacock teal, each moved a hand to grab me, their hands were batted away by an unseen force. “Queen Coeur will have your heads if you mark her player,” Brave scolded.

  The men, who could pass as brothers, glanced at one another and shrugged in turn. Then one told me to follow him and the other fell in step behind me. I glanced over my shoulder, imagining for a second that I could see Brave standing there in a pale white dress, wringing her hands.

  They escorted me through long corridors, down winding staircases, up ramps, and through an empty room whose walls were covered in white downy feathers. We walked through lavish parlors, we passed by stately studies and polished bedrooms, and continued past rooms with elaborate tea sets tucked onto every surface, every pot and glass steaming, with no one drinking from them. In the hall just outside the throne room, an imperceptible hand wiped the wall with a dingy rag. The wiping slowed as we passed by and I tried to make eye contact with the invisible one.

  “Do not stare at the Cursed!” the guard behind me bellowed, shoving the blunt end of his spear in the center of my lower back and making me cry out.

  So much for not marking the player. I was seething by the time the doors parted the heart’s chambers and closed behind us. Once inside, the guards melted away from me and took up their positions along the exterior wall, still as statues... acting like they weren’t complete assholes.

  The room, which was abuzz only moments ago, went silent as every fae in the room assessed me. Some shrewdly stared, several offered expressions of mild interest, and others scoffed or giggled, obviously finding me wanting. I stood taller just for them. Some appraised me with unconcealed lust and I fought the urge to swallow my disgust. One barrel-chested fae with hands as large as my head looked like he wanted to kill me before the game even started.

  I tried not to acknowledge the spidery-looking men hiding in the corners of the room, suspended from their thick webs, their spindly legs working the silk…

  I closed my eyes and reminded myself to keep my wits about me. When I opened them, the moment of first impression had passed and the fae were finally resuming their conversations. Round tables placed around the perimeter of the room hovered in the air, as did the stools that encircled them; each shaped and painted to look like red toadstools, speckled with white polka dots. The table linens swayed in a breeze I didn’t feel, but the magic of which I could taste on my tongue.

  Queen Coeur was seated imperiously on her throne, but her calculating smile fell when she saw the way my hair was arranged. Meeting her shrewd gaze head-on for several heartbeats, I finally looked away. On the far end of the expansive room were rectangular tables that held fountains of faery wine, platters of meat and bread, and an array of confections I couldn’t begin to name. As my mouth watered in response to the smell of fresh food and drink, I knew I was in trouble. I couldn’t fight off the overwhelming response flooding over me. I had to eat. I had to drink. Now.

  And then he was there... standing between me and several tables overflowing with bad decisions.

  “Carden?” I queried breathlessly, as if stepping out of a fog.

  “Arabella,” he greeted, bowing formally at the waist. His lip curled up on one side, but the worry lines on his forehead deepened as he looked over me. Carden was handsome in his suit, a suit made to complement my dress; but where mine was airy and light, his was constructed of thick, velvety fabric. His hair was still wet and the scent of honey soap clung to his skin like it did me.

  Where are his bruises? How is he standing in front of me acting like he feels perfectly fine? In answer to my scrambled thoughts, I heard his bones snap as he winced and straightened.

  “Are you okay?” I whispered.

  “I am now,” he breathed, taking the two steps that separated us and reaching for my hand. “Did they hurt you?”

  I absently rubbed my lower back. “Unless you count a jab to the spine, I’m okay.”

  The muscle in his jaw ticked and he placed his hand over the bruise as if he knew exactly where it was. The warmth from his skin seeped through my thin dress and butterflies took flight in my stomach.

  “I’m sorry I got you into this mess.”

  “I still don’t understand how you did,” I admitted.

  “I followed O’Hare into the forest, and apparently trespassing is a crime punishable by death,” Carden explained.

  “So is being late, but you didn’t mean any harm and it’s not your fault that she brought me here.”

  Faery wine spilled over a glorious fountain at the back of the room, pink and shimmering, smelling like sugar and heaven. I was so thirsty, and suddenly angry. “Aren’t you starving?” I demanded.

  “I am, but eating their food isn’t wise,” Carden replied calmly.

  “Who said I was wise?” I snapped.

  “Hey.” He snapped his fingers in front of my face. “Eyes on me. Forget the wine. Queen Coeur wants you to drink it. That’s all this is.”

  “Well, maybe we should?” I suggested. “We have to be as physically strong as possible or else we’ll lose. Then it will all be over and we’ll be dead, or worse...”

  “Cursed and Unseen,” he finished. His hand folded around mine, offering a small squeeze and bringing me back to the present, making me forget the enticing sound of splashing faery wine. “You have an invisible servant, too?” he groaned, scrubbing a hand down his face. “I’m so sorry to have involved you. I don’t even know why she sent for you.”

  “Our hearts are tethered, apparently.”

  “Do you really believe that?” he asked, curious. The same honesty I saw outside the tavern shone in his eyes now.

  “I’m not sure,” I confessed. “I can’t explain it, and maybe it’s just Coeur playing her game a little early, but... I do feel something. If I’m being honest, even if she’d given me the chance to leave and not play, I would have stayed for you.” Mortified by my admission, I looked at the floor. Even I realized it sounded stupid. It was ridiculous to feel so strongly about someone when you’d only just met them.

  He tipped my chin up. “Don’t feel embarrassed. I feel the same way. I’m terrified that once we’re in the game, I won’t be able to keep you safe.”

  “I’m sure you’d feel the same way about anyone she dragged in here,” I laughed.

  “No,” he acknowledged earnestly. “I wouldn’t.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CARDEN

  From her throne, Queen Coeur rose, the layers of her dress unfurling like teal-colored smoke. A swift and heavy silence fell over the room. When the Queen spoke our names, Arabella stiffened beside me. “Prince Carden of Tierney, from one of the Seven Kingdoms, and his heartmate, Arabella,” she announced, “please come forward.”

  My heartmate. The term crashed through my veins.

  Coeur pressed her painted-teal lips into a heart shape as she waited for us to respond. I clasped Arabella’s hand in mine and together we started to
ward the throne, stopping before Coeur. The members of her court, fair and monstrous alike, murmured as we waited for the Queen to address us.

  She gestured to us. “May I present your players.”

  No one applauded, though their eyes darted between us and their Queen, looking for cues. “See that they are well-fed and their thirst is sated. They must be famished,” she decreed, looking over our heads. When she turned her attention to us once more, her eyes flicked to our hands and her smile grew. “Yes,” she murmured, “we want you to be strong. You will need every ounce of strength you can garner.”

  An invisible force like a stiff wind turned us away from her and propelled us through the crowd to the back of the room, my feet scrambling to keep up and Arabella’s toe tips dragging along the tile. “She’s going to force us to eat and drink,” I gritted.

  “This is bad,” Arabella acknowledged, “but remember she can’t kill us. If she does, she won’t get to put on her charade of a game for them, and that’s what she really wants.” She squeezed my hand in her smaller one, and as we came to a hard stop in front of a banquet table towering with delicacies, she let go of me. “This looks delicious,” she purred. A violet film slid over her eyes as she stared at the piles of food and flowing faery wine. Arabella grabbed a crystal glass with a delicately curved stem and filled it in the fountain. When she brought it to her lips, a look of pure ecstasy, almost of pain, slid over her face.

  I knew I had to taste it. Holding my glass to catch the flow, I tipped up the stem.

  The flavor exploded on my tongue. It tasted like honey and berries and every delicious thing of nature I’d ever tried, and some I hadn’t. For some flavors, I didn’t even have the proper words to describe. It was magical. I found I couldn’t stop drinking it, until I noticed Arabella biting into a glitter-encrusted fig.

  Once I tasted the fae food, I realized I’d never really eaten before. Human food was bland and tasteless, whereas the fig was filled with nuances and notes of emotion. I could almost taste the fingers of the fae who prepared it.