And then he vanishes through the doors of the bedchamber as if an entire pack of banes were on his heels.
And I don’t have the breath to call him back.
22
“So how do we break the curse?”
I spent all last night tossing and turning in my bed, thinking about everything the day revealed.
And now I’m angry.
I know exactly where to find the prince, too. Every morning, he trains with his sword. It takes me only a few minutes to track him down in the solar at the top of the tallest tower in the castle. Swords ring and curses grunt, but with my words, the entire room goes still.
Thiago pauses in his attack, breathing hard as he steps away from Baylor. Sweat mars his shirt, and I can see those writhing black tattoos painted across his skin beneath it. “Wife.”
It’s such a jarring word, but this time, I’m prepared to face it. “Your Highness.”
I’m not yet ready to call him husband.
I don’t know if I ever will be.
“How do we break the curse?” I repeat softly.
Eris watches from one of the window arches, wearing a brown leather corset, knee high boots, and a golden armband that highlights her dark skin. Her black hair is bound back this morning, and the second she saw me, her eyebrows rose and haven’t resettled. There’s a cat nestled on her knee, and she slowly resumes stroking it.
“We don’t,” Thiago tells me, his words clipped as he lowers the sword. “We’ve had you examined by every sorcerer and witch this side of Unseelie. The curse is knotted so tightly around you that any attempt to undo it will only destroy your mind. You felt what it was like to merely learn the truth. This will kill you.”
“So, we just let my mother win?”
We just let her steal away my life, year by year?
“You will remember me. One day,” he says sharply. “You will break the spell, I have no doubt of that.”
“And in the meantime?” I step closer, my hands curled. Another truth assaulted me during the night. It was so easy to call fire last night. I barely even thought it, and my magic was sweeping through me. And Thiago had been so certain I could learn to ward. That I could wield my magic. “I forget everything, don’t I? This curse steals all of my memories from me. It steals my hold on my magic. Doesn’t it?”
His gaze lowers as he wipes an oiled rag along the length of his sword. “Yes. It steals everything.”
I knew it, and yet, the blow still staggers me.
I want to set the fucking world on fire.
“Vi,” Thiago warns, stepping closer.
Smoke curls through the air. My clenched palms feel hot.
“Control it,” he warns.
I can’t. I’m burning up again, and this time there is no way to tamp it down. It flares through me, like a phoenix bursting to life in my chest. Hot and violent and screaming with rage.
Flames burst into being around me. I am pure, molten fire.
They rage in a circular inferno, and too late, I realize he’s warded me so none of my magic can escape.
“Control it,” he barks.
I can’t.
My hair whips around me, my skin cracking apart as the fire consumes me. All my life, all I’ve ever wanted is my magic, but this is terrifying. It’s so much. Too much. A dam that’s burst its banks, and nothing I can do will force it back inside me.
“Breathe, Vi. Think of kittens. Soft, fluffy kittens.’
Kittens?
What in the Underworld is he talking about?
But in the next second, I realize the flames are dying down.
With a desperate wrench of willpower, I swallow it all back down, letting it consume me instead. All the hatred and the anger, and the… grief.
I end up on my knees, panting, holding my hands in front of me. They’re whole, the skin unblistered, but I swear they were on fire bare seconds ago.
“Kittens?” I manage to rasp.
Thiago kneels, capturing my hands. “I needed to distract you. You lost control of your emotions and hence your magic,” he says sharply. “Anger and hate will only exacerbate the lack of control, and you’ll end up burning the city down if you don’t yield to it.”
My entire being is shaking. I can smell the smoke again. Feel the heat drying my throat. “I don’t know how. She took everything.”
“And we will take it back,” he says grimly. “Trust me, Vi. Trust me. You’re not alone. I won’t let you deal with this alone.”
He presses his lips to my forehead, and a wave of coolness slides over my skin. It’s his magic, dark and foreign, but it feels like drenching myself in water.
The heat and rage abate, and finally I can breathe again.
“I offered to teach you how to ward once,” he tells me, hauling me to my feet. “The offer still stands, though I will extend it to teaching you how to control your magic. If you want?”
It’s not so much a matter of want as a matter of need. The entire room stinks of smoke. “Do I have a choice?’
“You always have a choice.”
“Did I have a choice when you and my mother made this foolish bargain? Did I have a choice when she told me I was going to be your hostage for three months?” I’m tired of being pushed and pulled around.
“Eris. Baylor. May we have some privacy.”
It’s not a question.
Baylor glances at me, glances at him, then stalks past, hurrying down the stairs as if he doesn’t want to be privy to any part of this conversation. Eris moves a little slower, sauntering across the floor.
“Good luck,” she drawls. “I hope you both manage to keep your eyebrows this time.”
Then their footsteps are echoing down the stairs.
“You’re angry,” Thiago says.
“Would you not be?”
He shrugs. “Yes. But I don’t have the luxury of allowing myself to lose control. That’s the first lesson, Vi. Power such as ours is not merely a gift, but a responsibility.”
It’s all I’ve ever craved, but I can’t help looking at the charred marble that surrounds me.
“Let me help you,” he says.
“You want to help me?” I turn toward the sword rack and take one of them from its sheath with a steely rasp. I need to do something physical, to rid myself of this rush of blood roaring in my ears. “Then fight me.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I don’t care if it’s a good idea or not. She took my… my magic from me. She took my memories. Everything. You.” Meeting his eyes, she tipped her chin up. “I don’t remember you. You say I loved you. You say I was your wife, but it feels like you’re talking about someone else.”
“Do you think I don’t see that in your eyes every time you look at me?” he snarled.
It wasn’t just me who’d lost something.
“How can I trust anyone when everything that’s ever been said to me is a lie?”
“I wasn’t the one lying to you,” he said.
I cross to the center of the tower, the sword weaving figure-of-eights in the air. “Really? Because it feels like a lie of omission. All these days, you’ve been flirting with me, smirking at me, driving me crazy…. Knowing what I’ve lost—what I had taken from me—for thirteen years—”