“Why would you care?” Aiden asked. “She’s naught but another tool in their arsenal.”
“I pity her,” Catherine replied. “The trolls took her against her will and then manipulated her sentiments so that she’d agree to this bargain. You forget that I saw her when she lay dying in Trollus—she has suffered enough.”
He laughed. “I think you give her too much credit, Catherine. She cares a great deal for the prince, that much is certain. She considers many of them her friends. She wants them freed.”
“I don’t think she does. Not deep in her heart,” Catherine said. “Because if she did, the trolls would already be loose.”
“Are you suggesting she has sabotaged her own hunt?”
“I don’t believe her oath would allow her to do so, but regardless, that’s not of which I speak.”
My pulse sounded loud in my own ears, every muscle tense with anticipation of what she would say. I’d known she’d been holding back information about curses, and it seemed now I was about to discover what. I only prayed it would not be too late.
“Think of what they did to her. They didn’t treat her badly or keep her a prisoner in a cell. They married her to a handsome young prince. They made her a princess, and did what they could to make her love him. I knew within an instant of meeting that creature of a king that he was far more clever and complex than you gave him credit for.”
“What of it?” Aiden demanded. I wanted to know the same thing, but at the same time my stomach clenched at the idea my emotions had been manipulated. Had the King really known I’d fall for Tristan? That he’d fall for me? Worse, had he actively manipulated us into it?
“The curse is an act of will,” Catherine replied. “Will, fueled by an intense desire to see something done and cemented by magic.” A chair scraped a bit on the floor, and I could all but see her leaning closer to him. “And it can be broken by will; by an intense desire to see the curse ended driven like a hammer with the force of magic.”
I felt numb. Rolling forward, I rested my forehead against the damp earth of the cellar, unable to meet Sabine’s questioning gaze. The idea that my role in the prophesy was to be bait had been bad enough, but this was worse. That the King had predicted bonding me to Tristan would make me fall for him, and that my love for him would give me the power to break the curse? I didn’t like that. It made me feel sick and even more used than I had before. It made me feel as though falling in love with him hadn’t been my choice, but part of a plan much greater than I knew.
“An interesting notion,” he said after a minute. “But how she feels about the trolls is of little import. What matters is that the troll prince loves her. It was he who told me there was a loophole in the girl’s promise in a desperate hope that I would help her. And I will, but it will come at a cost to him.”
Oh, Tristan. Tears dripped off my nose into the dirt.
“Her promise to the troll king was thus: I promise to do whatever it takes to find her and bring her here.” His laugh had a hysterical edge to it that made me cringe. “Cécile never went into Trollus. Here is the sand she was standing on when she gave her word, and that sand exists outside the barrier.”
Of course Tristan had heard the loophole in my promise even while he’d been suffering torture. All his life he’d been twisting words and undermining their meanings. He’d figured out the one way I could win free of my promise without breaking the curse, and he’d tried to give it to me. Now this man intended to use the information against him.
“So you intend for us to find Anushka, bring her to that spot, and then let her escape unharmed.” Catherine’s voice was toneless, but I knew she was angry. She wanted revenge for what Anushka had done to her, but that wasn’t part of Aiden’s plan.
“It will be a sweet thing to see the look in that devil of a creature’s eyes when he realizes he’s been outwitted.” He stood and paced slowly across the floor. “You see, Catherine, you need not fear for Cécile’s welfare, for she is the most precious thing in all the world, because with her in my possession, I’m in control of Prince Tristan.”
No, no, no!
“The half-bloods have rallied behind him again, and there are whispers that a great many others wish to see him on the throne. Mark my words, he intends to kill his father and take the crown. And there is nothing I would like better.” He spat out the last words. “With Thibault dead, I’ll be free of the foolish promises I made to him in my youth, and with Cécile in my care, Tristan will have to do what I say. I will control the trolls.”
From a troll tyrant to a human tyrant.
“What of Anushka?” Catherine pressed again. “What will become of her?”
“I’ll let her go,” he replied. “She’s survived on her own this long, I expect she can live a few generations more.”
“She deserves to be punished.”
“It doesn’t matter what she deserves,” Aiden said. “She’s all that keeps us safe from the trolls, and that makes her untouchable. Angering her would be madness.”
Catherine said nothing, but I could imagine his words were a bitter tonic to swallow, because they were the truth.
“You’ll have your pardon after our plans come to fruition,” Aiden said. “With what we will accomplish, my father will have no choice but to grant the request. We’ll need you to keep Cécile in check.”
Silence.
“Very well,” Catherine said. “I’ll do as you ask, but there are materials I need and preparations that must be made before I can cast the spell. Deal with her other friend, then come back an hour before sunset, and we will begin.”
“I’ll be here. And don’t even think of crossing me, witch.” The rear door opened and slammed shut with enough force to make the shop shudder.
An hour before sunset… That was all the time I had to escape. All the time I had to steal back the grimoire and find Anushka myself. Because if I failed, the cost to everyone I cared about in Trollus would be far worse than they ever dreamed possible.
30
Tristan
The half-bloods had fallen slightly behind, so I took a moment’s worth of time to return to my rooms to change the bandages on my wrists. The corridors of my home seemed to swim around me, and I stumbled more than once on the smooth marble floors, my feet feeling like stones attached to my legs.
I had one of my sleeves up and a bandage half unraveled before I realized I wasn’t alone.
“Hello, Tristan.”
Tucking the bandage back into place, I slowly turned. Lessa, wearing her Anaïs-mask, was sprawled across my bed, head resting on one hand. “Get. Out,” I said.
She pushed her bottom lip out into a pout. “So hasty!”
“Get out,” I repeated. “Or I will make you leave, and I won’t be gentle about it.”
A cruel little giggle escaped from between her lips. “Are you so sure you can?” Sitting up, she slid off the bed and came toward me, stopping about a pace away. “I daresay, you aren’t looking in the peak of health.” Her eyes flicked to my manacled and bandaged wrist and up again. “It must be dreadful to feel so abused.”