Cursed by Diamonds (A Dance with Destiny Book 1)

by JK Ensley

  “It always has,” she whispered.

  “Very well then, beautiful lady.”

  Jenevier heard his advancing footsteps. Her heart raced. Her stomach was jumping around inside her, doing back-flips. She peered within the darkened corner, terrified.

  “Shall we begin?”

  Chapter 45

  Tamar Broden

  (TAY-marr BRO-dun)

  Jezreel ended up exactly the way Jenevier had hoped, but by horribly different means. She had indeed become a great healer. All of Tamar Broden looked to her and heralded her name throughout the land, but feared her as well.

  Jezreel had paid a great price for a talent she already naturally possessed. But for vanity, she would have been loved and adored by all. Since her pride and arrogance had sent her in search of Halora, she now roamed the village a haggard, hideous old woman. She traded her youth, her beauty, and a bountiful future for magic she could have gained through mere study. Jezreel wanted the power without the work. She now strove every day to fight the darkness that lived within her, but showed without.

  Alastyn had stayed in contact with Jezreel through the years. He had found no trace of the Elves just as she had found no trace of a cure. The Prince of Wrothdem’s magic was powerful beyond imagination. Yet, all magic—no matter how great—could be thwarted by those who refused it, refused superstition. It could be thwarted by those who simply chose not to believe. This plain truth had cost Jezreel the life she once knew. She also knew there was no going back for her. So, she worked diligently to help all she could, give hope to all who were cursed.

  You’ve had the fight inside you all along. Don’t give in to your fears. Refuse to believe in the curse that’s been bound upon you. Defiantly face all the perils in your life. Only then, will you be truly free. Arm yourself with knowledge, ladies. For ignorance is as slavery.

  Jezreel had imparted these wise words on all who sought her. In so doing, she had created a new generation of courageous young women—women willing to fight for their own happiness. Women who enjoyed their lives, no matter their station. Women who refused to let fear and dread rule them. The sun seemed to shine a little brighter and the laughter was a little louder in Tamar Broden. And it was all thanks to Jezreel’s own great sacrifice.

  She remained close friends with Margy Trinken. They had tea and conversation daily. Jezreel would disclose the many new potions she had developed and made regular gifts of them to the kindly woman. In return, the timid seer kept Jezreel up to date on all she saw and all she dreamt. Together, these two ordinary, yet extraordinary, women blocked the wicked Prince at every turn.

  In the ten years Jezreel had been changed, the twisted Prince of Wrothdem had only managed to steal away two maidens from their loving families. Mrs. Trinken would see them and Jezreel would warn them. She gave them the courage they needed to defy not only the tormented wraiths, but their charming master as well. She had established connections far and wide. There was someone she trusted in every town and in every village. Because of this, it took little time and effort to spread the word, inform the unfortunate intended maiden of the ravenous beast who sought her.

  Alastyn had proved an invaluable friend and ally. She treasured him more than she would ever dare let him know. Markus and Alissa had joined her cause and become quite dear to her. Markus traveled far and wide to make deliveries and to acquire the rare oddities she needed to continue her work. He never looked inside the packages he carried to and fro for her. He was always afraid of what he might find. Alissa was her face to the public. Most normal folks were repulsed by Jezreel’s gnarled and twisted features. Mrs. Trinken was much too timid. But Alissa was captivating to all who met her. Hers was the voice they trusted, the smile they loved, and the sparkling emerald eyes they all envied.

  Together, these four beloved friends protected, healed, comforted, and empowered not just Tamar Broden, but the entire realm of Ashgard. They methodically and unintentionally carried out the sacred work of the Vanir, whom they didn’t yet know existed.

  But Vareen knew them and knew them well. She kept a close watch over this tiny, yet powerful, group of friends. The elegant seer made certain they had an invisible Guardian protecting and encouraging them… always.

  Prince Merodach knew them as well and kept his own twisted sort of watch over the commanding foursome. He tried many times and in various ways to stop their progress or even all out destroy them. Alas, he had met with unexplainable failure at each depraved attempt. Something was either blocking him or protecting them. Which? He did not know. So, his viciously brilliant mind concocted even more cruel ways to defeat them. He studied on it for many years.

  “There’s always another way for the persistent fox to enter the henhouse,” he would say.

  One day, his loyal hunter told him of a nomadic sort of man roaming from town to town searching for word of Elves. This lone traveler always confided the same story of his lost love—cursed by the Prince, fled to the mountains, and only the ancient Elves could help her. The maniacal Prince burst into mad laughter. The hunter became wary and wanted to retreat from his royal liege, but the handsome Prince held fast his arm.

  “That’s what this is all about? A maiden? Ten years dead now. Remember the one, Mordon? The one you tracked to Thralldom? They’re still trying to rescue her.”

  His possessed laughter filled the palace, bringing a sense of dread to all within.

  The loss of Jenevier had hit him harder than he would ever admit aloud. His grief over her escape had changed him in unimaginable ways. The maiden haunted his dreams nightly. Even though he thought her dead, he never managed to cease his desire for her. He knew in his heart, she was the one. The very one meant to bring about an amazing, yet unknown, change. That knowledge caused his current madness—a madness for which the only cure was the dead maiden.

  “Yes, Sire. Yes, I do remember now. As I recall, I found no trace of her, dead or alive. She simply vanished into thin air.”

  “Yes. And ten years later, they are still seeking a way to save her from me, to rescue her. From what? From the grave?”

  His laughter roared again.

  “They don’t believe she’s dead, Sire. At least, not the nomad. He says she’s in a secret place within the wilderness of Thralldom and that many years from now she will return. His wish is to have knowledge to aid the maiden upon her foretold arrival.”

  Prince Merodach halted his jeers, was rocked with the realization of his great error. His defiant young maiden had been alive all this time, just waiting to return. And what? Fight him? The thought of such a scene brought him immense joy. A twisted smile distorted his handsome face. His black eyes danced with excitement.

  “So they think they can defeat me, do they? We shall see.” A new coldness glistened in his dark eyes. “Mordon, where is it you say you last saw this nomad?”

  “That’s just it, Sire. We were discussing the fact he hasn’t been seen in months now. He has either frozen to death, been beaten and robbed, or perhaps eaten alive by some voracious beast. No one has even heard tell of his roaming for almost a year. Yes, I’m certain he’s met an ill fate during his futile quest.”

  “Or… finally found the Elves,” Merodach murmured.

  His devious mind went to work on a plan to destroy all of them—the nomad, the four troublesome partners in Tamar Broden, and the fair maiden he had mourned for so long. All of them would be punished or destroyed. He cared not which. Yet, the maiden was a different matter altogether. He would have to come up with something special for her.

  She hasn’t been hiding idly in those hills all these years, no. She has been busy preparing something for me, for a fight with me. He chuckled. And I definitely plan on returning the favor.

  “Sire? Are you well?”

  “Mordon, I have much to do, much to plan. Come. I have something extremely important I need you to deliver for me.”

  Chapter 46

  Varick

  (VAH-rick)

  Jenevie
r was filled with a new sense of purpose, a new feeling of determination.

  “Yes, Varick. I’m ready. I may not have understood even half of what you said, but one thing I know for certain is that I want to do the work within my heart. I want to fulfill my calling. I am ready for your tutelage, beautiful warrior. Teach me to be Vanir.”

  She boldly faced the steps within that glorious healing pool and purposefully marched up them, toward the waiting shadows. She heard his once bold footsteps falter slightly as she approached.

  “I have never been more ready for anything in my entire life.”

  Varick stepped from the darkness. The sparkling sunlight struck his flowing silver hair. He was looking down. His face, hidden. Jenevier halted her advance. Then, he took one step more into the light, slowly raising his majestic head.

  She had been expecting a softer, gentler, mirror image of Vareilious. She had been wrong.

  Varick was the same massive height as were all Vanir. And he was royally crowned with the same gorgeous, fluid hair. Yet his was different. She looked closer.

  Varick’s stunning locks were the same ethereal silver, yes, but his angelic face was framed about with purely golden strands. He wasn’t the bulked-up brute his dear friend was, no. Varick was much slimmer, more regal looking. He was almost pretty. Also, his internal glow was not the usual lustrous moonlight-colored essence of his brethren. Varick shone like a newborn star, or perhaps a captured ray of the marvelous sun. Everything about him was warmth and comfort and light. He moved with the same ease and grace as the water which now dripped from her trembling body, gliding across the rich marble floor. In a word, he was elegant.

  “…Varick.” The word came out as an awed whisper.

  His eyes were captivating. She wanted to stare into them for all eternity. They were a glorious golden amber. Not the azure blue of everyone else she had met here. His warm eyes perfectly matched his brilliantly glowing soul and those enchanting golden locks outlining his high cheek bones. But it was his breathtakingly radiant smile that nearly stopped her beating heart.

  “Y-you are s-so beautiful.”

  “As are you.”

  “No, no. You are… splendid perfection.”

  “As are you.”

  “I only thought the Vanir were the most enchanting, heavenly creatures to walk upon this land. I was wrong. You are the heavens.”

  “As are you.”

  “Please, stop teasing me.” She shook her head. “I am too common to even find the proper words to describe how ethereal and magical you are. I feel nothing but shame and inadequacy in your imposing presence.”

  Jenevier lowered her head, trying to find the right words. She was dumbfounded by his beauty and felt like a fool before a king. She began to panic.

  Varick swooped to her in the breath of a blink, wrapping his ethereal arms around her.

  “Look at me, Jenevier. Show me those enchanting eyes I love so true. Never doubt your worth again, fair maiden. God values your spotless heart and pure soul a thousand times more than anything you see before you now. I am in awe of you, my love. I always have been.”

  “Your words were only a charade before.” She snorted out a self-deprecating laugh. “I half wanted to believe them, too. I thought perhaps you were truly jealous. My ignorance knows no bounds. Someone such as you… capable of loving—” Her breath hitched. “By the gods. I am such a witless idiot. I want to melt away and disappear from this wondrous place.”

  He tightened his embrace. “What are you talking about?”

  “I know not. You make my mind as mush. I cannot even speak properly in front of a faultless creature such as yourself. Look at me, Varick. I am nothing but a blathering fool.”

  “Jenevier, my precious love, you are so blind. Do you not approve of me? Is that what’s troubling you? Tell me true, Princess. I mean, you did not carry on so dramatically with the wonderfully handsome Vareilious.”

  “Approve of you? Varick, I’m not worthy to even look upon you. How is it you should need my approval? And poor Vareilious, I held him as perfect. Yet, he is merely ordinary next to you.”

  Varick laughed. “I do very much like the sound of that, gentle maiden. I had hoped you would prefer me over him. I want to have a war of the lips with you myself someday—remove any thought of him which may remain in that gorgeous little head of yours. You were made especially for me, Jenevier. I have wanted to hold you in my arms, these arms, since the day you were born.”

  “Your beautiful lies tear at my soul.” She tried to look away. “Please do not toy with me, Varick. I fear it will cease forever the pounding within my breast.”

  “So, you approve of me, then?” he whispered. “You will let me teach you all the ways of the Vanir? All of them?”

  “But how can you teach me when I cannot even breathe for your beauty, your radiance? My heart doesn’t feel so spotless right now… with all of these terrible thoughts running through it.”

  “Please, share them with me. Let me know what lies secretly hidden within that angelic heart, wrapped so stunningly inside this sensuous package, and standing marvelously soft within my embrace.”

  “No, never. I should be condemned for even being able to produce them within me. I should never be able to speak them aloud. The mere images portrayed in my wretched mind of these secret desires… make me weak. I tremble.”

  Varick held her still dripping form even closer, fully capturing her diverted gaze with his mesmerizing amber stare. She melted against him and had to keep reminding herself to breathe.

  “Will you tell me if I guess them?”

  She shook her head. “No. Never.”

  “Play fair, Jenevier. I wish to know your hidden secrets. Is it possible? Do you actually desire me? If such is true, my lifelong prayers have finally been answered.”

  He dazzled her anew with his angelic smile.

  “Please, Varick, do not tease me further. I feel I may die within your arms for your glory has caused my lungs to forget their duty.”

  “Ahh, I would gladly revive you,” he whispered against her tingling neck.

  “Stop teasing me, Varick.”

  “Teasing? Have you heard nothing I have said thus far? I carried you into this world, my love, for that was the very purpose of my humble creation. I protected you. Loved you. Treasured the gift you carry within. I have already freely admitted my wild jealousy when you allowed a handsome young man to hold you in his arms. You believed everything I said as I sat within the shadows. Why do you choose to think I am teasing you now?”

  “Because, Varick, within the shadows you were Vanir. Beautiful and majestic, yes, but the same likeness as is the mark of your people. Yet, in the light… you are awe-inspiring. You alone are perfection, multiplied to infinity. I could never think you would stoop to be jealous of any mortal being.”

  “You are seeing with your deceiving eyes only, dear one. Look with your heart, with your soul. See me as I am, Jenevier. You give me undeserved credit.” He sighed. “What should I do? Do you wish me to change? Would you rather I changed the way I look on the outside? Would that make you more comfortable? To look upon a lie and deny the truth?”

  “You can do that?”

  “Of course I can. Is that what you want?”

  “No. I honestly don’t think I could bear that.”

  “So, will you accept me as I am?”

  “Yes, Varick. If you will accept me as I am—common and flawed.”

  “You jest, adorable maiden. I have longed to hold you like this. I have prayed for the day to arrive when I could finally reveal myself to you. I dreamt of the look upon your face. Would you love me? Or run screaming?”

  She snorted out a laugh. “Now who jests?”

  “If my words are falling upon deaf ears, I will save them until those ears accept my truths.”

  She gasped. “Oh, Varick, I… I think I may die.”

  He suddenly felt her whole body trembling in his arms.

  “What now? You are d
riving me mad, fair lady.”

  She went pale. All the color drained from her face.

  “I only just realized… I marched out of those waters, dripping wet, without a single thread to cover me.”

  “This I know.” His gentle voice lowered to a purring whisper. “It was thrilling and powerful. I had to compose myself before I could meet you properly.”

  “Oh dear heavens. What was I thinking?”

  She closed her eyes, immediately tried to cover her face.

  “You thought not of such trivial things, Milady. You were cleansed in the healing waters of Vanahirdem. It washed away your fears and pain right along with your modesty and embarrassment.” He chuckled. “You were confident, defiant, fierce, utterly powerful. I will definitely be present for all future baths.”

  Jenevier looked at her glorious Guardian Angel with his glowing amber eyes and his magical gold-laced hair. She couldn’t halt her coming laughter.

  “You are as you were when I was a child. You always knew exactly what to say to make me feel better.”

  “I’m glad it still works.” He tenderly kissed her forehead.

  “Me, too.” She sniffed and buried her face in his chest.

  “If you need anything, just let me know. I want this to feel like home. Now, shall I show you to your living quarters, Princess? There, you may dress and prepare for your awaited torturous training.”

  She giggled. “Do you jest now?”

  “Not even remotely.”

  Jenevier collapsed onto the giant bed, obviously intended for a massive Vanir. She curled up in the middle of the enormous cloud and tried to reason out exactly why she was here and what, if anything, made her special.

  She looked to her wardrobe and saw only sterile, white clothing within. Giant Vanir sized garments hung next to the tiny normal people attire.

  She smiled. “Makes mine look child-sized.”