Kiss of the Royal

by Lindsey Duga

  The woman opened the door all the way to reveal a slightly swollen belly. “Travelers. Far south?”

  Her pregnant belly made me pause, but I quickly answered, “As far as the Crown City.”

  Her sharp eyes darted to my cloak, and seeing the Legion crest, instantly her persona changed. She brought a hand to her stomach and leaned against the doorframe. “Blessed Mounts of Wu-Hyll, yeh’re from the castle?”

  By the wind wisps. I should’ve thought this through. Now this woman was eyeing me with a look I had seen many times, a look I usually reveled in—one of hope. She hoped we were Royals able to lift the curse on their village with a Kiss.

  There were at least two problems with this: one, we didn’t have long until the dragon hatched, and two, even if we took the time to investigate what kind of curse it was, and what kind of Kiss was required, Zach would refuse.

  Still, I couldn’t lie to this woman and watch the hope shatter in her eyes.

  “Yes.” I straightened. “My name is Ivy Myriana, a princess of the Royal Legion. This is my page, Bromley, and my partner, Prince Zachariah. Please, tell us what’s happened here.”

  The woman beckoned us inside, sniffing and fighting back tears. “Thank the sacred wisps.” She wiped at a stray tear. “Princess, we’re under a curse. People are fallin’ ill every day. Practically everyone is infected. It’s been so long since a Royal from the Legion came this far, I hadn’t dared hope. She’s been a blessing to us, o’ course, but she’s no Royal—”

  “I’m sorry,” I interrupted as Zach, Brom, and I stepped into the cavernous hall. “She? Who’s she?”

  Before the woman could answer, a voice from above rang through the hall.

  “Look who decided to show up.”

  The entrance hall was sectioned off into an east and west wing, but north of the hall was a winding staircase, the top floor cut off from view by large wooden beams crisscrossing over the high ceiling.

  Together, Zach and I stepped to the foot of the stairs and looked up.

  Leaning over the rail, black hair curling down and deep azure robe rolled at the sleeves, was the female mage.

  Chapter

  Twenty-One

  The Curse of Venera

  In one hand she held a damp rag, and in the other she balanced a steaming pot, probably containing a stew full of medicinal herbs. She smiled down at us like we were old friends.

  We were silent as she made her way down the stairs. The mage handed her cauldron to the pregnant woman. “Rochet, I’ve given this to all the sick upstairs. It should help ease their pain. Can you give it to the rest so I can inform the prince and princess of the type of sickness?”

  Rochet nodded. “Of course, thank yeh, Lady Millennia.” She took the pot then crossed into the east wing, her footsteps echoing on the hardwood floor.

  “So your name is Millennia,” I said.

  Her smile disappeared, and a scrutinizing look took its place. “I figured you were only a day behind me. Got caught in the storm, did you?”

  I almost asked how she’d been able to evade it when she’d been at least two hours behind us after getting rid of the sparrow harpies, but I decided there were more important things to be concerned about.

  “Where’s your master?” I asked for the second time.

  She ignored the question and continued, “Although I have to admit, I had only half hoped you’d pass by this village.”

  “And what do you mean by that?” I asked, my hands on my hips.

  “I meant only that you, like all other Royals, would want to cure this village the easy way—with a Kiss.”

  I bristled. “Easy way? A counter-curse Kiss is not easy. It takes years of study to master the spells for every sickness, and once administered—” I stopped myself from saying the rest: that it leaves a princess almost incapacitated. I didn’t want Zach to use that as another excuse not to Kiss me later.

  Millennia moved close to Zach, narrowing her deep blue eyes. “So the rumors I heard weren’t true. You’re not a Romantica, since you’ve obviously allied yourself with a Royal. It’s disappointing to me that you took a partner.”

  “Oh.” Zach blinked. “I pray you’ll forgive me, milady. After all, everything I’ve ever done in my miserable life was so I wouldn’t be a disappointment to you.”

  Brom snorted and quickly tried to cover it up with a cough.

  “Funny,” Millennia said with a scowl, then her gaze flickered to me. “I’d hoped one of us might be able to infiltrate their twisted army and still uphold our beliefs, but seems I was wrong.”

  “Millennia,” I said, surprised. “You’re a Romantica?” I didn’t know Romantica mages even existed.

  She rolled her eyes. “Yes, princess. What will you do? Tattle on me?”

  “Is that why you don’t have a master?” I asked.

  “Despite what your arrogant Legion would have you believe, there are Romantica mages, and I do have a master, but no, she’s not here. If you haven’t noticed, I am gifted. I don’t need a tutor every moment of every day.”

  Perhaps the Romantica had their mages on a longer leash than Royals. Even so, it was odd. Then I heard coughing from above, and with a pang of guilt I realized now was not the time to interrogate this girl about her eccentricities. “Tell me about the sickness. We want to help.”

  Millennia took a step back and shook out her sleeves. She regarded me for a moment and sighed. “Follow me.”

  With a glance at one another, we followed Millennia down the east wing. It was a wide hallway that would’ve smelled of cedar but now smelled of decay and death and got worse the farther we walked. Millennia spoke over our footsteps. “According to Rochet, a mysterious traveler came to the village about a week ago, asking for a room. The traveler took the room and disappeared the next morning, leaving traces of ol’yen ash.”

  “A witch,” I said. The skin of witches was dry and flaky, which made them shed something that looked and smelled like ash. Then I remembered, when we first met her, Millennia had said she’d been going after a witch. “Is she the one you were searching for?”

  Millennia gave a short nod, keeping up her brisk pace. “Had to be. The villagers hoped the witch had only passed through the town, slept in a room, ate a hot meal, took water from the well, and that’s it. They didn’t think they’d done anything to offend the witch, but as it turned out, during one of their days chopping wood they had come across a garden of dark herbs and uprooted it, worried it would attract beasts.”

  “The garden was the witch’s,” I groaned.

  “So naturally, the old crone took her vengeance. And the next morning after she left, some of the villagers started fainting with a high fever, then large purple blotches starting appearing on their feet, paralyzing them.”

  “When the blotches reach their chest, it restricts the lungs and puts them in a deep sleep,” I continued, “but when it reaches their heart…”

  “How long does it usually take to reach their heart?” Zach asked.

  “Depending on the strength of the person, the curse can last a whole month before reaching the lungs. But once it reaches the lungs, they have only twenty-four hours,” Millennia said as we came to another large set of double doors.

  “The Curse of Venera,” I murmured. Although it was a terrible curse, part of me was relieved it was not an airborne sickness. Instead, the Curse of Venera was spread through a poison of some sort. More than likely it was in the villagers’ food supply or the clothes they wore.

  “Not a pretty curse. And a very powerful one.” Millennia wrenched open the doors, and we were slammed with a terrible stench. The smell of rotting skin made my eyes water. I wanted to hold my breath, but I knew it wouldn’t help.

  Brom staggered back and covered his nose and mouth. Zach grimaced, brought a fist to his mouth, and coughed.

  Rochet and a few other villagers went from bed to bed in the giant meeting hall. Based on the number of houses outside, it had to be at least a fifth of the villa
gers lying in this room, simply hanging on and waiting until they found the sweet release of death.

  “These aren’t even the worst-off patients. Those with the curse in their lungs are upstairs,” Millennia said, her voice thick. “I was able to whip up a stew to ease their pain, but my knowledge of medicinal herbs goes only so far.”

  Millennia turned and led us out of the meeting-room-turned-infirmary.

  “If you knew about this cursed village why didn’t you tell us when we first met?” I asked.

  Millennia scowled, folding her arms inside her robes. “I didn’t know, princess. Like I told you, I was following a witch, that’s all. I can burn a witch with my mage fire, but I can’t very well burn an entire village to cure what the witch left behind, can I?”

  I pursed my lips, still mystified a mage would be going after a witch by herself, but the stench in the room and the coughing reminded me again—now was not the time.

  I scanned the length of the hall. “How many have died so far?”

  “Ten. Gone and burned,” Millennia answered.

  “Are you sure the worst are upstairs?”

  “That we know of. Many may be staying in their homes and trying to take care of themselves, wanting privacy as they rot.”

  Her words sounded heartless, but she spoke the truth—they were rotting.

  “I’d like to see the worst patient you have up there—to make my own assessment.”

  She held up her hands and gave me a look of indifference. “I understand, but I advise you, princess, to be quick in whatever you decide. These people don’t have long.”

  My gaze shot to Zach, who was looking at the sea of beds, each holding a victim of the Curse of Venera.

  I turned to Brom, who had gone a little green, and instructed him to shadow Rochet, doing whatever she needed him to. Then Millennia told me where to find the worst patient—an eight-year-old girl at the end of the east hall, upstairs, last door on the left. Apparently she had slipped into the deep sleep yesterday. She had less than three hours to live.

  Zach followed me up the steps and down the hall. What would he say when he saw the true effects of the curse? Surely there’d be no shred of doubt in his mind that Kissing me was the right thing to do.

  When it came to a curse like this, there wasn’t time for arguments about personal beliefs.

  We reached the end of the hallway and came to the door. I touched the brass handle, feeling the cold metal under my fingers and knowing the heat of the feverish skin I would soon be feeling.

  Zach’s hand wrapped around mine. His body leaned in to my back, his face centimeters from my ear. “I know what you’re thinking, Ivy,” he said softly. “And I want to save these people as much as you do.”

  “Then you know what we have to do.”

  Silence behind me.

  I glanced over my shoulder. Zach still stared at the door handle.

  “Zach…”

  He refused to meet my eyes, and that refusal—it was all I needed to see.

  My heart, and the hope I’d had that he’d put his own beliefs aside for the greater good, shattered. Shaking my head, I shook off his hand, opened the door, and slipped into the room. Ignoring the stench, I crossed to the bed and leaned over to inspect the girl’s face. She looked younger than eight.

  This was why I hated curses. I hated the way they caused pain and suffering until the very end, until the victims were practically begging for death. I’d seen curses, inspected them, and broke them with my Kiss, but I’d treated every one like a simple problem to be solved. An obstacle to overcome. It was better to view them calmly, logically, like I’d been taught. But that was just an excuse. An excuse for my own traumatized past.

  I felt the girl’s head with the back of my hand. As I’d imagined, she was burning up. After moving down the covers, I pulled up her tunic, revealing her cursed chest. Huge purple blotches, varying in shades, covered her torso. Darker, rougher spots showed where the decay had completely taken hold of her skin. I wanted to cover my mouth and nose, but I forced myself to confirm that it was indeed the Curse of Venera. I had seen this curse once before. It had been far south of the Crown City in a tiny village, where a witch had placed the curse because the villagers had killed her pet griffin—of course, the griffin had eaten a child, but that hardly mattered to the witch. We managed to save only a few survivors, and the princess who had performed the counter-curse Kiss, since I hadn’t yet learned that complicated of a spell for such a powerful curse, had used so much of her magic that she was bedridden for a week.

  Surely I wouldn’t be that greatly affected. For one, the princess had been only a half Royal. Being not only a pure Royal, but also a direct descendant of Myriana, it shouldn’t take that much of my strength. Hopefully.

  “I’ve never seen a curse like this,” Zach said from above, staring at the girl with empty, tired eyes, and his jaw clenched, as if he were bracing himself.

  I rolled the poor girl’s covers back up and said nothing.

  Silence stretched in the room. I knew there was a battle raging inside him, and it was one I was likely going to win, but I took no pleasure from it. Even though it had been my goal to have him finally give in, I wasn’t happy that this was the way to convince him. He had been so earnest that night in front of the fire. He believed in True Love with all his heart.

  Have you ever loved someone so desperately?

  Zach knelt by the girl’s bed and rested his hands by her legs, his fingers aimlessly picking at the blanket that lay over her. “You’re certain it’ll work?”

  There had been a few occasions, though rare, that a counter-curse Kiss had not succeeded. The village had been left to rot and ruin, and there was absolutely nothing to be done. But those curses had been too late to catch and were doomed from the start. There was hope in this village. And with me…well, I was certain Myriana’s magic would work.

  I nodded. “I have no doubt.”

  Zach glanced at me then back at the girl.

  “I take it you haven’t encountered too many curses in Saevall?”

  He shook his head. “No. I was always fighting monsters.”

  Gently, I laid my hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “You can’t put your sword through a disease.”

  He looked at my hand, his gaze tracing the stag’s antlers across my skin. I couldn’t imagine I’d ever want to console him for finally agreeing to Kiss me, but the expression on his face was one of both pain and regret, and it wasn’t something I ever wanted to see on Zach or anyone.

  But I needed him. This little girl needed him.

  I had to make sure he was going to give in.

  “My first Kiss broke a drought curse on a village,” I said softly.

  Zach looked up at me, his brows drawn together.

  “I was just nine years old, but I still remember the starving villagers. They’d walked around like skeletons. A child—a toddler—had collapsed at my feet because she hadn’t eaten in almost two days.” I closed my eyes, almost seeing the same little girl in front of me. “I’d cried that day. I was terrified, not because of the villagers, not because their behavior scared me, but because I feared I wouldn’t be able to save them.”

  I could feel Zach’s gaze on me, but I kept my eyes closed. The memories, however old, remained fresh, replaying in my head like a magic mirror had trapped them.

  “My mother had slapped me when I started to cry. She told me these people didn’t have time for my weakness. I stopped crying, and I Kissed the thirteen-year-old prince whose name I can’t even remember now.”

  In retrospect, maybe I should’ve known it had all been a test. My mother could’ve performed the Kiss easily, but the Council had wanted true proof that I was my father’s child, since my mother had been known to sleep with many men. They could’ve performed an heir test, but my mother had insisted on testing my power, angry that the council of Freida didn’t trust her.

  When my Kiss worked, my mother had murmured, “That’s my girl.” />
  It was that day I realized how desperately I wanted to please this strong yet cruel woman who told me these people didn’t have time for weakness or failure.

  Finally, I opened my eyes, transported away from the dying village of my memories to yet another one.

  Zach’s jaw was clenched, but I could see the sadness in his eyes—the face of someone yielding.

  “It’s not about us, Zach,” I whispered. “Not our morals. Not our beliefs. It’s about them. It’s always been about protecting them.”

  So much of my time at the Legion was about battle. Victory. Success. Pleasing my mother. But I knew there was more to this war than just proving my mother wrong. Or possessing the most powerful partner and Kiss. It was about stopping the Forces from destroying innocent lives—from leaving them hollow, dried-up husks or walking corpses.

  Zach nodded stiffly. His voice was hoarse as he said, “All right. Tell me what to do.”

  Both relief and sadness raged within me. I hadn’t wanted it to be like this. He should’ve understood another way. Believed in me and trusted me, not been coerced by a sickness such as this. I leaned over and grasped Zach’s hands. “I’m sorry, but it’s the only way.”

  “Ahem.” Millennia cleared her throat from the doorway, and Zach and I both turned to her. “That’s not true,” she said. “There is another way.”

  Chapter

  Twenty-Two

  Out of Time

  “Excuse me?” I said, standing.

  “I said there’s another way.” Millennia crossed her arms.

  “And I’m sure I misheard you. There’s no other way to break this type of curse.”

  “You know that’s not true. You just don’t want your precious prince to find out.”

  I felt Zach’s eyes boring into the back of my head.

  “What’s she talking about, Ivy?”

  I bit my lip.

  “Ivy.”

  I made a sound between a groan and a growl in my throat. “It is, and it isn’t,” I muttered. “True, I mean.” Then I took a deep breath and turned to face him. He stared at me as if I had just betrayed him. The look cut through me, but I pushed forward. “Technically, there is another way to break the curse, but we wouldn’t be able to break it even if we tried. It’s practically impossible. We have less than three hours before this girl loses her life, and I don’t want to waste time running around looking for an amulet.”