generations for it to happen.”
Prince Harkeld put down his bowl. His movements had the rigidity of rage.
“Why was marriage necessary?” Petrus asked. “Couldn’t a bastard—”
“It was one of the first things we tried,” Cora said.
Prince Harkeld turned his head to stare at her.
“Who was the bastard?” Petrus asked.
“A boy called Kiel. His father was a legitimate Rutersvard prince, his mother was a Sentinel mage. She’d been pretending to be a servant.”
“What happened?”
“Kiel’s blood and hand were tried on all three stones.” Cora lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “It didn’t work.”
“The child has to be born in wedlock,” Dareus said. “It has to be legitimately royal. Ivek worked it into the anchor stones.”
Prince Harkeld stopped looking at Cora. He frowned down at his bowl.
“So why didn’t you just ask a Rutersvard to marry a mage?”
“We did that when Kiel’s blood didn’t work,” Dareus said. “One of the Sentinels approached the Rutersvards and explained the situation and—”
“They killed him.” Gerit spat into the fire. The flames sizzled for a moment.
“They thought the curse was a tale. A century had passed since Ivek’s death. A century with no sign of anything wrong.” Dareus shrugged. “Do you know what they say here, when something’s never going to happen?”
Petrus shook his head.
“They say it’s as certain as Ivek’s curse.”
Petrus grunted. “They won’t be able to say that any more.”
“No.” Dareus rubbed his jaw. The close-cut beard rasped beneath his hand. “Where was I? Oh, yes. They killed the Sentinel. So for the next hundred years we watched and waited, until finally it was decided that we had to act. So we created an opportunity to break the curse.”
“Prince Harkeld?”
Dareus nodded. “Once he was born, there was a lot of debate about what to do next. Should we steal the child and raise him in the Allied Kingdoms? Should we leave him where he was?”
Prince Harkeld lifted his head. He stared across the fire at Dareus.
“In the end, the Council ruled that we couldn’t take away his birthright. Harkeld had been born a prince; he had the right to grow up a prince. The question then became, how to inform him of his destiny—and when.”
Gerit snorted. “They debated that for nearly two decades.”
“Finally it was decided to follow diplomatic channels. This was a chance to forge a relationship between the Seven Kingdoms and mages. A delegation was sent to Osgaard, to speak with King Esger. I was one of them.”
“Weren’t you afraid they’d kill you?”
Dareus shook his head. “We carried a diplomatic seal granted by the rulers of the Allied Kingdoms. It guaranteed us safe passage. King Esger took some convincing that we spoke the truth about the curse and his son’s blood, but he took the news surprisingly well. Much better than we’d expected.”
“When?” Prince Harkeld demanded. “When did you tell my father?”
“When you were eighteen.”
The prince’s mouth tightened. He turned his head away.
“Why didn’t you speak to the prince, then?” Petrus asked.
“We asked to, but King Esger said Harkeld was too young, too immature. He requested more time and asked that we not approach the prince directly.” Dareus shrugged. “We agreed. There was no urgency; we thought the curse would be dormant for decades.”
“But weren’t you worried about the prince’s safety once you’d gone?”
Dareus shook his head. “Esger promised to protect his son. He swore an oath on the seal we carried. To break it would have been tantamount to a declaration of war against the Allied Kingdoms.” He drained his mug and placed it on the ground.
“We returned three years later, but the king declined to let us speak with Prince Harkeld. He said he was still too immature.”
“We should have ignored the fat bastard,” Gerit said. “Should have just gone in and—”
“We carried a diplomatic seal.” There was an edge in Dareus’s voice. “We were bound by oath to act with openness and honesty.”
Gerit pushed to his feet, scowling. He stamped off into the darkness, his shoulders hunched against the rain.
“The curse took us by surprise, Justen,” Cora spoke into the ensuing silence. Her voice was calm, matter-of-fact. “We thought we had plenty of time. Decades. King Esger’s stalling didn’t worry us overmuch.”
“But then word came about the curse shadows,” Dareus said. “And we knew we had to act immediately. Whether Esger agreed or not.”
Petrus nodded, and then realized that the prince wouldn’t know what a curse shadow was. “What’s a curse shadow?”
“Anyone who’s been cursed has one,” Dareus told him. “It’s like a shroud. Only trained mages can see them.