A Curse For Spring

by Amanda Bouchet

  A sick feeling welled up inside her. Rain knew it was an enormous gesture, but her soul wept for everything her family was sacrificing.

  She shook her head, but Marla ignored her silent protest.

  “Take it with you.” The queen placed the jewel in Rain’s hand and closed her fingers around it. “You’ll be Queen Rain Ash, even in Parr.”

  Rain had no idea what Marla was talking about. “I don’t understand.”

  Daric stared at his parents, his brows drawing down. Then his horrified gaze swiveled to Rain, and his voice dropped, turning raw and rough. “No. She’s coming with us.”

  “Aldo Lockwood has expressed interest in the past. He’s prosperous, powerful, and, to my knowledge, not unkind,” Wilder said. “He wants Rain, and I’ve told him he can have her.”

  A haze seemed to cover Rain’s vision. “Without even consulting me?” She wasn’t sure if she was about to throw up, pass out, or simply catch fire from anger. A decision like that made entirely without her? Marriage to an elderly king she scarcely knew?

  “He’s three times her age!” Daric exploded.

  For the second time that day, Rain started to shake. The House of Ash had always treated her like family, but there was no question of where she’d come from, either. There’d been too many witnesses to her “birth” for that. She was not their child. She was not Daric’s sister. “I’m not of royal blood. He cannot want me.”

  “He does,” Wilder answered. “And you have something better than royal blood. You’re Braylian’s daughter.”

  Did King Aldo truly believe that? Rain had no power, or nothing useful, anyway. Nothing she dared reveal or wield. She brought nothing of value to a marriage.

  Daric raked his dark hair back, his face turning bone-white. “You can’t force her to go south when we’re all going north. It’s not possible.”

  “Rain is young and beautiful.” Marla laid a hand on Daric’s arm and squeezed. “Aldo will dote on her, and maybe she’ll give him the son he’s always wanted.”

  Rain felt herself blanch. Her. The Queen of Parr. In Aldo Lockwood’s bed.

  Daric looked as sick as she felt. Despair and something much more powerful and volatile churned inside her. She struggled for control over both.

  “It’s time you two stopped living inside each other’s pockets,” Wilder announced with an abruptness that hardly masked his obvious discomfort at handing Rain over to a man who could be his father. “Daric will go north and gain Leathen a river. Rain will go south to Parr. It’s final.”

  A disbelieving huff burst from her. Rain had never defied the king. She’d been a dutiful Ash since the day she’d become human. She’d never given the family the springtime they needed, but that wasn’t from lack of effort. She’d tried—endlessly.

  Her heart pounded out of control. What could she do? The king had already agreed to sacrifice his son, his position, his own name for the good of his people. She wasn’t in the worst situation here. Some part of her recognized that Wilder was trying to protect her. He loved her and knew she’d be miserable in Raana.

  Rain touched the starflower Daric had given her. Braylian! Please find us another solution!

  As always, silence was her only answer.

  Chapter Three

  Wrath rose up in Daric with such blistering quickness that he could barely refrain from violence. He’d wanted to pummel his father only twice in his life. The first time was fifteen years ago in the Wood of Layton. The second was right now, in the bloody dining room. Rain stood beside him, as silent, horrified, and colorless as she’d been the day they’d destroyed her existence as a goddess.

  “Rain will not go south to Parr. That is final.” He hardly recognized his own voice.

  “Daric, it’s for the best,” his mother said, trying a conciliatory tone that wouldn’t work on him this time. It might never work again. She turned back to Rain and forced the Ashstone ring onto Rain’s delicate finger, putting it in the place reserved for a betrothal ring.

  Daric saw red, then black, and then Rain—with Aldo Lockwood thrusting over her in bed.

  Jealousy like he’d never known grabbed his gut so hard he thought he might vomit.

  “Soon, you’ll both have children to bring you joy,” his mother said, a brittle smile pasted on her face that looked like it made her just as ill as it made him.

  “Children,” Rain murmured. She could barely speak, which was distressing in itself. She usually had plenty to say, although she was more reserved around his parents.

  Daric snorted harshly. “Whatever children I have will likely be sadistic cat murderers, like their mother—if I can even manage to accomplish the necessary deed with that…woman,” he ground out. What he really wanted to call Astraea wasn’t appropriate in mixed company. “And Rain will be obliged to welcome an old man to her bed whenever he feels like it. He already has more children than teeth. He doesn’t need more of them.”

  “Don’t be vulgar,” his father rebuked. “Rain will be much happier with Aldo than any of us will be in Raana with Illanna Nighthall doing her best to belittle us and dictate our every move while Astraea gleefully injects her venom into our daily lives.”

  “You mean Raanaleath.” Daric couldn’t contain his spite.

  “The name hardly signifies,” his father said.

  “I’m glad you think so,” Daric snapped, “since this aberration of a marriage is about to extinguish the name of Ash!”

  “Not if Rain carries it to Parr for her children,” his mother said, giving Rain a significant look, as if she should be proud to carry on the name of a royal line of failures.

  “Go to Aldo, Rain. Take the Ashstone. Be an Ash. We’ve never asked anything of you,” his father said, “except for this.”

  “Never asked anything of her?” Daric said in disbelief.

  “Besides that.” His father waved away the defining problem of both Daric’s and Rain’s lives. “And we stopped asking years ago,” he said.

  That didn’t mean that Rain had stopped trying. Or that Daric didn’t see it eating away at her to fail.

  Rain stood like a petrified tree, but Daric knew she was no shrinking flower. She was trying to do her duty, and she would obey the people she cared about, even if it killed her.

  He couldn’t fault her, no matter how much he hated it. Wasn’t he doing the same?

  “Soren will go with you,” his mother told Rain. “He’ll look after you.”

  That awful feeling yanked hard at Daric’s gut again. “Soren? He’s half Aldo’s age and you know he’s—”

  “Enough!” His father brought his fist down hard on the table. “The entire household goes with Rain. We’ve negotiated it with Aldo, and he’ll take everyone from the castle. From cooks, to maids, to guards, to masons. Entire families that live and work here. That’s one-hundred-and-thirty-two people that won’t be starving anymore. And Rain will be surrounded by familiar faces.”

  A small gasp escaped Rain, and Daric knew the argument was over. She would never weigh her own wishes heavily against the welfare of so many people.

  His heart twisted in agony. He’d known he’d lose Rain in a way when he married Astraea, but he’d never imagined losing her entirely. An abyss opened inside him and swallowed every hope he’d secretly held for the future.

  But the sorcerer… If they could just… “We have two moons. Let us find this Barrow Witch.”

  “Out of the question,” his father said. “There is no Barrow Witch.”

  “Because you know all the witches on the continent?” Daric knew that sarcasm was unbecoming in a prince. He was beyond caring.

  His mother looked as though she might argue for his plan, and he turned to her, but it was Rain who spoke before anyone else could.

  “Let us go. If we haven’t found another solution in the time we still have, we’ll return to Ash and do what we must for Leathen.” Rain looked at his parents in turn, and then at him, awaiting confirmation.

  Daric’s lungs se
ized. Rain had always been beautiful, otherworldly, and fierce in her own way, but right now, she was so stunning and determined that he could barely breathe.

  His father eventually nodded. “Soren will put together a team for you. You can leave when you’re ready.”

  Some of the knots in Daric’s chest unwound until his father proved he was just humoring them. After all, the king hated the future they faced as much as Rain and he did.

  “It takes twelve days to get to Nighthall,” his father said. “Factor that into your travels.”

  In other words, Daric thought bitterly, into their failure.

  Chapter Four

  Rain was many things, but reckless wasn’t one of them. The only thing she’d ever done purely on impulse was dance with a boy, half in the Cauldron and half out, half element and half something more solid, so that he could see her and wouldn’t be frightened by what she truly was.

  What she had been: a deity with power over clouds and sunshine. She’d been the lightning that lashed the treetops as well as the kernels that sprouted into all things green and lush. She’d been whole storms, and she’d been each tiny speck of moisture. She’d run wild across the continent, but she’d kept the land in balance. Or so she’d thought—until Daric showed her otherwise.

  Perhaps it was a blessing that she recalled only the larger picture of her existence as a season. It allowed her to be satisfied with her life in Leathen.

  A life about to end as well.

  Glumly, Rain flipped the pages of another musty old tome looking for mentions of the Barrow Witch, mockweed, Alderbank, or the Blood of Braylian.

  Daric studied another book beside her, untouched mugs of ale and dinner plates in front of them. The candles had burned low and now flickered in a draft, throwing shadows across his face as he read. It was a face she knew better than any other sight, and yet there was something unfamiliar about it now, a hardness that told her Daric was a man who would face his responsibilities, no matter the cost.

  He shoved the book aside and leaned back in his chair, scrubbing a hand over his eyes. “There’s nothing of interest in here unless you want to know how to make a beeswax and ingeroot poultice.”

  “Useful for burns,” Rain murmured.

  “We don’t have burns. We’re facing disgusting marriages—which might be worse.”

  “Aldo Lockwood is kind. I could do worse.”

  Daric scoffed. “You could certainly do better.”

  “Well, no one else is offering.” Rain glanced at him but turned away at the intense anger on his face. The blue of their eyes was nothing alike. Rain’s was much darker. Right now, Daric watched her through chips of glacial ice.

  This wasn’t the man she was used to. He hadn’t seemed half this furious when it was his marriage forced upon the House of Ash.

  “He’s a king. He’s willing to take me and our entire household.”

  “Who wouldn’t take you?” Daric muttered.

  A pinching sensation cinched around Rain’s heart. If only Daric wanted her the way she wanted him. But then… That wouldn’t help either of them at this point.

  “Perhaps we’ll find a solution. We have two moons. And if not… Aldo will be kind,” she repeated.

  “Aldo will likely die of heart failure the moment he sees you naked.”

  “Daric!” He’d never spoken to her like that.

  “At least he’d die happy,” he said under his breath.

  Rain didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so she went back to the safety of the bland history book in her lap. She had a decent idea about what went on in the marriage bed because she wasn’t stupid and she asked questions. But she’d never even felt another’s lips against hers, because the only person she’d ever wanted was Daric.

  There suddenly seemed to be a great deal wrong with that.

  “I’ve never been kissed,” she announced, closing the book with a snap. Maybe she needed a little impulsiveness in her life. What could it hurt? Everything she knew was about to be destroyed again anyway.

  Daric scowled at her. “Good. No one deserves you.”

  “I’m a twenty-five-year-old virgin about to be married to a man who could be my grandfather.”

  “Of course you’re a virgin. You’re unmarried.”

  Rain rolled her eyes. “Do you honestly believe that every new bride is a virgin?”

  “No. But I believe that you damn well better be.”

  “Are you?”

  He looked shocked by her question. Then his color rose. “No.”

  He didn’t elaborate. Rain felt a corner of her heart wither and die but soldiered on, because she knew what she wanted.

  “Before I marry Aldo, I want to be kissed by a man who is young, vigorous, and attractive.”

  Daric’s face turned to stone. “I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you comb Upper Ash for a man to kiss you.”

  “And I’ll be damned before I let you dictate my actions.” Rain faced Daric’s glower with a boldness born of knowing him better than anyone. He was polite and good, but he’d never let anyone run roughshod over him. Not even her, but that didn’t mean she was intimidated by him. “That said, why would I need to comb Upper Ash for a candidate when I have you right here beside me?”

  He stared at her. His throat bobbed. He looked almost…frightened. “Do you have any idea what you’re asking?”

  Heat coursed through her. “I’m asking for a kiss.”

  He shook his head. “You’re asking to make the years ahead of us even worse.”

  Rain’s eyes widened, and her pulse leaped to a harder beat. Was he saying what she thought he was? “You accepted your betrothal to Astraea, who is truly awful, but you’ve been vulgar and enraged since we found out about me being promised to Aldo. Why?”

  Daric turned away from her. For a moment, she thought he might leave. “Because I can live with my own unhappiness, but I can’t live with yours.”

  Tears stung Rain’s eyes. “Your father is right,” she said gently. “Do you think I’d be any happier at Nighthall, with you married to Astraea and me living in her shadow?”

  Daric’s head snapped around. He looked furious. “You outshine her by far.”

  Rain stood, her chair scraping back. “I don’t know if you say that to be chivalrous and kind, or if you feel something…more. Speak plainly, Daric, or I might go comb Upper Ash after all for a man to do more than just kiss me before Aldo is my only option.”

  Daric stood, too, a head taller than Rain and a good deal wider. He stepped closer, backing her against the table. “You wouldn’t.”

  Rain lifted her chin. No, she wouldn’t. She would never dishonor herself, Aldo, or her family in that way, but Daric couldn’t be sure of that. “Then kiss me yourself,” she demanded.

  “Don’t ask me to do this,” he choked out.

  “Why? Would it be so terrible?”

  “Terrible?” His brows arched in surprise. He lifted a hand. His thumb grazed her jaw, tilting her head back, and Rain’s heart tumbled wildly. Daric’s gaze shifted to the starflower still in her hair before his eyes returned to her face, haunted. “You’re my one and only obsession.”

  Rain drew a sharp breath, the ember of hope inside her catching fire. She touched her hand to his chest. Daric was hard and strong. Aldo would be the opposite.

  “Then kiss me.” Boldly, she slid both hands toward his shoulders. She wanted to touch him, had yearned for this. “For I’m just as obsessed.”

  Heat and hunger blazed across Daric’s expression. Then his face abruptly twisted. “I cannot.” He stepped back.

  Rain froze, hurt pounding through her like the downpours she occasionally dreamed she unleashed upon the kingdom—only to wake and find the land as dry as bone.

  She swallowed, but her voice still shook. “You’re making me feel very foolish, Daric.”

  “I’m the fool.” His bitter tone coated the air between them in frost, just as it had countless times over the course of this dreadful day.
“I’m the fool for loving you from the moment I saw you—and wanting you more than my next breath.”

  Blood surged in her veins. Rain reached for him again. Those were the words she’d wanted—needed—for years.

  Daric avoided her, shaking his head. His voice grew thick and hoarse as he said, “You’re beautiful, desirable, strong, and kind. Any man would be lucky to have you even look at him. But I am the Prince of Leathen, and my life is not my own.” He turned away. Daric left and didn’t look back.

  Rain trembled, heartsick. As his footsteps faded, she bit down hard on her lip to keep from sobbing. She’d rather draw blood than shed more tears, although neither would help her, Daric, or the kingdom.

  Chapter Five

  Daric paced his chamber like a caged beast, angry, miserable, and restless. If the palace hadn’t been stripped bare of anything nonessential, he’d have picked up some useless object and thrown it against the wall for the sheer satisfaction of smashing something. He’d needed to fight more violent urges in the last day than he had in his entire lifetime. The desire to rip into something was overwhelming.

  First, it had been his father. Then Rain. Then anything and everything, especially himself.

  They’d been the best of friends forever, and Daric had been madly in love with her since they’d danced at the Cauldron, but he’d never imagined that Rain thought of him as anything other than a brother. It had been different when they were children and easy playmates with mostly innocent thoughts, but for years now, Daric had been careful to keep his distance—physically, at least. Whenever he touched her, even by accident, the longing just grew worse.

  Tonight, he’d wanted to rattle some sense into her. Shake her. Hold her. Consume her.

  He was tormented by thoughts of the kiss he didn’t take, aroused to the point of pain. His heart ached, but so did another part of him, hard and heavy with want.

  Rain’s quick breaths fluttering across his jaw. Her lush mouth. Her eyes drifting closed…