Chapter 31
I’d been throughthe garden maze enough times to have its paths memorized, so when I found myself utterly lost within its depths, it was by design. The tall hedges concealed me from even the most strategic of vantage points within the castle, a womb of foliage that cradled me in a silence I desperately needed. I sat on the cold stone path, arms folded across a bench, face buried in the crook of my elbow.
Time passed unmarked, save for the shadows changing shape through the leaves. No one called my name yet, though surely my absence had been noted. Hopefully Nicolas would have the good sense not to initiate another castle-wide panic. Just this once, I wished to disappear without consequence, to have my solitude and seek out peace of mind.
Instead, my thoughts turned to darker possibilities.
If Florence could control whether I became pregnant, perhaps she might ascertain the sex of my child in advance. She might even be able to influence it, to coax my body to bear only little girls. I could let my eldest daughter marry a decent man, and that could be a future for the kingdom.
A pretty, foolish thought. I knew history well enough to know that queens who didn’t birth sons were not always blessed with long, stable reigns. There would be nobility who disapproved of a king from outside the bloodline, just as some had reviled King Elias. There would be bloodshed over whatever decision was made, even if it was in the kingdom’s best interest. My daughters could all die to rebellion, the crown passed on to some distant Montfort or even a new man entirely, as it had been with Sala and Korosa to the north, according to the texts within the library. Emperors, conquerors, madmen.
My thoughts returned to Nicolas. He knew of the curse, so he had to be aware of the implications it would create in raising a son. There was a chance, a small one, that he would prefer the simplicity of daughters to the risk a son warranted…but he was a dutiful prince, wedded to ceremony and prescribed custom over any deviation. Even as a king with power to reshape the realm, he would remain carved from tradition, as immovable as the code he abided. A son would come, by me or by whore, and I would be expected to masquerade as that child’s mother for the good of the realm.
Damn the realm. Damn the gods, too, for their role in weaving madness into sex and power.
Shadows loomed about, the Lord of Night’s presence palpable in their shifting shapes. They grew bolder as the stars came out, caressing my flesh. Then another presence joined: a familiar gait, the rattling of steel within a scabbard.
Lanternlight scattered the darkness.
“I thought you might be here,” said Quinn, hanging the glowing apparatus on a strategically-placed shepherd’s hook. The orange glow flickered with one last spiteful breath from the Lord of Night. “Perhaps nothere, exactly, but somewhere within the maze.”
I wiped my tears on my sleeve. There wasn’t enough of me left to feel shame for the position he’d found me in.
But Quinn’s gaze held little amusement. “I told Nic I’d find you on my own so there wouldn’t be a scene. I…did not say how long it would take me to do so.”
In a few strides, he was near enough to offer his hand. I took one look at those digits, pale from the winter and calloused. In another life, Quinn should have been a knight; the noble life was an ill-fit.
“Unburden yourself, Alana,” he offered. “I’m all ears. Or eyes, in these particular circumstances.”
I tried to smile, but my lips wouldn’t budge. The attempt only made them tremble. I took a shallow breath and signed from below, rejecting his offer to stand.“I cannot be queen.”
“Itisa tremendous role, but I think you may be underselling yourself. You’re a capable woman.” Sensing that I had no intention of rising to my feet, Quinn crouched in front of me. “Why do you doubt yourself?”
“Because I cannot bear the prince a son,”I replied. I wasn’t sure how to dance my way around the truth from there, especially not when the response so vividly perturbed the viscount.
“Is there something preventing…forgive me, is there a reason you fear this so deeply?” he asked. It was clear that he was trying to be sensible, and that his thoughts led down a different path. “Has the royal physician given you cause for concern?”
I shook my head.“No. I am physically capable.”
My hands stilled. I looked at my protector, the secret sitting like a stone on my chest, slowly drowning me. His offer was a lifeline.
“You’ve asked before…why I cannot speak to you,”I signed. My hands were slow, as every word felt riskier than the last.“If I give you the truth, you must swear to keep it between us. Even from Nicolas. He should not know that I told you.”
Quinn stiffened. He put a hand on the ground to stabilize himself. “Alana, I can’t—”
“What do you know of curses, Quinn?”
He hadn’t sworn to keep the secret, but I’d enticed him into silence. Beneath his measured expression, he was clearly reconsidering. “Enough to fear the repercussions of crossing someone who wields them.”
“I crossed no one, but my father did,”I motioned, biting my lip.“I was cursed before birth.”
My hands fell to my lap. We stood on the precipice now; once I told him the truth, there was no going back.
Then again, if he did take qualm with it, if he did bring it to the prince or make it public in a way that would prevent the marriage…would that truly be the worst of outcomes?
“The curse compromises any man who hears my voice. It triggers an unnatural attachment. When I speak, men’s minds become clouded with false desire. They believe themselves in love.”I froze, my arms crossed over my chest.“This is how it is with Nicolas. My father deafened himself to prevent the devotion. If I had a son, he…”
Quinn’s face drained of color. Then he was on his feet, pacing away before whirling back. His hand raked through his hair, loosening it from its strap. A strangled sound caught in his throat.
