“It seems the Mage Lord’s sentence has reached its conclusion.”
“As we unfortunately expected,” Varian replied. “Hardly a joyful conclusion, I’m afraid. I believe he was plotting something to escape it. Not noble, but understandable.”
“Reagan would never,” I said, my words steady. “That’s why you kidnapped someone under his protection today.”
The judge’s eye stayed with me, surveying the wounds on my skin, before turning to Varian. “Kidnapped?” she asked curtly.
Varian’s smile was odious. “An exaggeration by a human.”
“You have witnesses, scum.” Gwinifer whirled on him. “Did you think of that before interfering with the curse?”
Half a minute passed in unbearable silence before she finally spoke. “The curse couldn’t be interfered with. None could do that, not even I. But Reagan would have known if he was able to break the curse or not. And if there was a crime committed here today by Mr Ilya, that one will be brought to Court.”
Varian kept his neutral expression. “I am fully prepared to endure any judgement you have for me. But surely, there’s a more pressing matter at hand. What becomes of him? What becomes of the estate?”
Finn’s snarl was instant, but there was something more important than Varian.
I lifted my chin, defiance etched into every part of me. “How do you know that he didn’t break the curse? If he is like this”—I extended an arm toward the beast—“and cannot speak for himself? How can you tell that he didn’t do it?”
“Because he wouldn’t be in this form. And the Mage Lord would have come to me immediately. If he isn’t, if he didn’t, it’s because he failed.”
“He didn’tfail,” I snapped, my voice higher.
Her expression remained the same.
Finnegan jumped in. “He has years of service to his estate and enough time to have paid for his offence. Maybe if you speak with his staff, you’ll find that...”
“That is not how the curse would end, Mr Finnegan. I shouldn’t need to speak to the estate. It brings me no joy to see his curse unbroken. My intention was to offer him an opportunity to demonstrate that he understood the weight of his responsibility, or to abdicate it entirely. He chose to rule, and this was the sentence that Fate decided for him.” Her handsfolded neatly in front of her, precise and calm. “This was Lord Reagan’s curse.”
With the barest flick of her finger, light stirred—coiling, writhing—until the air itself shimmered with pale smoke. From the haze, something took shape. A sphere, pulsing and weightless, twisted over itself in a slow, hypnotic circle.
The world hushed. Even my breath felt stolen, swallowed by the power thickening the air. From within that trembling glow, a voice emerged—soft, sinuous, chanting eerie words into the silence.
The Curse Chantress.
“Oh, hello, young heir...bearer of fury and vengeance. You, who have chosen this destiny, seek to fulfil the legacy of your kin...The Fates have spoken for you.”
The voice wavered, only so that another one, a familiar, angry voice, could take over.
“I don’t need this, Malory!” Reagan yelled.
My face slackened.
The judge’s voice followed. “I ask again, do you choose to rule, Lord Reagan?”
The soft voice, which became more ominous, continued.
“Henceforth and for the span of seven winters, you shall face the crucible of a ruler, to evolve beyond traits of egoism and negligence, and prove yourself a bearer of compassion and responsibility for the lands and lives you serve, those who shall embody the reflection of your penance. For the old, the new, the sorrowful ones, and the born anew.”
A deafening silence fell over the cabin. No one dared to breathe, to move.
Then Reagan’s voice broke through, hoarse and desperate. “You can’t do this.”
The judge answered him dryly, “It is not up to me.”
The curse continued.
“Hurt, wrath...I see you, ruinous heir. You shall face the crucible of fortitude and restraint, shall learn to endure the tragedies of your past and temper your proclivity for anger. Or wear its wretched mask when it is all you possess. Receive now the tether for your curse, and what binds you shall yet free you, for the effort is yours alone to make.”
