“That young woman…mybride,” the prince continued anyways, “it’s true what we’d heard of her appearance; shedoeshave a grayish tint to her skin, not unlike what the skin of your own hand looked like just a few weeks ago.”
Deven said nothing.
“Which lends credence to what some of our scholars have been saying, doesn’t it? That this curse— or sickness, or spell, or whatever it might be—effects those with a strong affinity for the Sun. Princess Leanora should have a fair amount of the old goddess’s power within her, thanks to the bargain. Her ailment could very well be related to yours.”
All fae were descendants of the gods and goddesses that had once roamed across their world, and many carried theseaffinitiesfor magic because of this—whether it was for Sun, or Shadow, or Fire or Ice or any of the countless others. The ones with the most magic had leveraged their power into crowns and kingdoms a long time ago, and Tarron’s ancestors were among the earliest and most powerful of those crowned ones.
His brother was no exception to their powerful bloodline. The king’s magic had the potential to blind and scorch entire armies—but more often, Deven had used it for good, aiding the growth of crops and otherwise providing light and life to this part of the world they ruled over.
And Tarron himself would have been able to do the same sort of things,ifhe had been born first.
But because of that strange, long-ago bargain with the human kingdom, part of Tarron’s magic was bound elsewhere. Namely, his bride-to-be had the other part—at least until the marriage and its associated rituals took place and unlocked it.
So this arranged marriage would be useful forsomething, at least.
“I’ve spoken at length with the Middlemage king, and he assures me that the girl has certain quirks, yes—like the odd pallor of her skin,” said Deven. “Shealsodoesn’t seem to have much natural skill with magic, he admits. But otherwise she is perfectly healthy.”
Tarron was unconvinced. “You know, there are some who believe that Princess Leanora’s sickness is a result of the other twin—the Shadow twin’s—magic. Which is interesting, given what happened the nightyourillness first appeared.”
Deven’s ever-present grin was beginning to wilt in the corners. “Can we just celebrate your upcoming nuptials and forget about these dark matters for a day?”
“It’s worth investigating more closely, is all I’m suggesting.”
“As I told you, the Middlemage king has said—“
“Who cares what he’s said? He could be lying.”
“He wouldn’t risk such an offense. He’s too much of a fat coward for that.”
“Well perhaps hehopeshe’s telling the truth,” said Tarron, “but hope alone does not make a thing true.”
The king chuckled, shaking his head. “Gods, you’ve become entirely too serious in your old age.”
“I’m twenty-seven.” Hardly old, especially for their kind, who occasionally lived to be well over two-hundred.
“Are you?” Deven pretended to look shocked. “The First Goddess as my witness, I would have sworn you were atleastthree times that age, based on the amount of grumbling and worrying you do.”
One of us has to worry, Tarron wanted to say.
Instead, he pulled the sleeves of his shirt back down, covering up that heavy golden bracelet, and he calmly stated: “If the sickness progresses, and it takes you—“
“I’m not dying anytime soon, little brother. Put the thought out of your mind. Let those scholars and advisors of ours worry about curses and spells. You should be focused on your new bride.” His grin suddenly returned in full earnest. “She did not seem especially…takenwith you at the riverside, did she?”
Tarron sighed.
Deven took a bite of his apple, still grinning, and then he continued—spewing little flecks of fruit flesh as he spoke: “You pulled off the arrogant, beastly persona quite well; the humans all looked properly terrified of you. Father would have been proud.”
“Yes, well, the humans have been drifting too close to our borders these past years. They needed a reminder that we can bebeastlyso that they’ll stay away. It’s for the good of bothof our worlds that we don’t mix anymore than we have to.”
“Somehow I don’t think your princess will see your behavior as entirely altruistic.” Deven finished his snack and carelessly tossed the core back into the basket with the uneaten fruit, which made Tarron cringe. “So worry abouther, if you want to worry about something,” he pressed, focused entirely on changing the subject now.
Of course he was.
Tarron leaned his head against the carriage wall and held in another sigh. Conversations about his brother’s strange illness never took long to veer off in different directions.
“Put my problems out of your mind,” Deven repeated, his tone bordering on serious for once.
The prince went back to watching the world outside. They were leaving the fields behind, winding their way around the base of the Mount Amaros, and the carriage holding the princess rolled briefly into sight before disappearing around a tight bend on the path ahead.
