Shadow Cursed by May Sage Page 0,22

her orders were law, shouldn’t bother me.

It didn’t.

My jaw tightens. “Why didn’t someone—anyone—tell me you were able to communicate, all these years? If we’re friends, as you pointed out.”

“Did you ask?” she asks, eyebrows raised.

Of course I hadn’t. I didn’t speak of her to anyone, and I avoided her family like the plague, as everything about them reminded me of her.

“You forbade them. You told them to hide it from me. You wanted to punish me.” The wild accusations spill over my lips like vomit—I can’t keep them in.

Her leveled gaze is the picture of indifference, as though my words roll off her. But I didn’t miss the fire in the depths of her stormy eyes.

I was right. By all gods and demons, I was right. “You punished me because I wasn’t playing your game, and supporting your decision to abandon us.” I step close to her, leaning forward to reach her face. Now, I whisper. “You wanted me here, and when I didn’t come, you lashed out like a scorned lover. Very mature, princess.”

She says nothing, and doesn’t move at all.

“You had no right. We aren’t lovers. We’ll never be lovers. Because. You. Left. Me.” I enunciate each word to make her feel just how profoundly they are engraved on my soul.

“I have every right,” she replied. “Besides, don’t you remember? You owe me a favor.”

I’m stunned again.

She’s absolutely unbelievable.

“Rystan Drusk, you gave me your word you’ll do any task I ask of you, some sixty years ago. So, you’ll forgive me, and that’s the end of it.”

Infuriating. Manipulative. Proud.

She’s been sent by the deepest circles of hell to test me, I know it.

I can’t believe she’s given up her power over me now, after all her grand declarations about keeping me under her control at any cost.

She’s freed me and shackled my hands in one go.

Because if I have to forgive her, then I’m back to being hers, unconditionally.

And I have no choice at all in the matter.

“You’re a monster.”

She grins as though I’ve complimented her. Maybe I have.

I close my eyes, and force myself to let go. Of the darkness, of the pain, the betrayal. Of the feeling of unworthiness. The fact that she’s shown me my will would never matter to her.

I let go.

I forgive her.

And I close my mouth on hers.

Only, where her lips should be, there’s nothing at all.

She isn’t here.

She’s asleep, and slowly dying.

I’m kissing her for the very first time, and I don’t feel her under my skin.

Will of the Queen

Drusk

I should feel guilty about yesterday’s outburst, but I don’t. I’m on the defensive when I walk through Whitecroft Hall, half expecting to be told to clear out, but as usual, no one attempts to get in my way.

When I reach Vlari’s room, a chaise has been moved next to her bed, and there’s a fresh bouquet of flowers on her nightstand.

I make my way to the chaise, and drop on its plush crimson velvet. I can imagine falling asleep on it; it’s a considerable upgrade to the cot I use at my parents’.

I take in Vlari’s serene expression. She hasn’t moved at all, though her hair has changed. Today, she’s under a blue silk throw.

I could take her hand, get to talk to her, but at what price, and to what end? She shouldn’t be draining her resources just to have a chat with me.

“I considered bringing you a book on the Cursed Prince, as you’re evidently fond of children’s tales, but instead, I thought you may benefit from a lesson in curses, instead.” I’m petty, and I don’t care.

I read aloud, barely taking in a word, flying through lessons in spellcasting, faerie tongue twists, and other tedious things I learned long ago.

My choice of book wasn’t just born of anger. It occurred to me that while I’ve been guided through my discovery of Myst, Vlari has never had the chance to study her power. No wonder she was riveted by the possible mention of a Void in my sister’s book. I’ve taken the knowledge for granted, but it’s all new to her.

She can bring gods to their knees, but she has no clue about the limits of elemental magic.

She needs to know it. She needs to understand what is likely to suck her energy, and how to control herself.

Not that she cares about her own safety, but if the day comes that she chooses to consider it, she’ll have the basics.

The manual takes us a week. I don’t touch her.