Malice (Malice Duology #1)(54)

“Exactly. A Cardon son came to Briar to try to break the crown princess’s curse. Among his retinue was his sister, Corinne. Well.” A chair creaks as she sits and motions for me to join her. “The son’s kiss did not break the curse. But Corinne and one of the younger Briar princesses—Eva—got along quite well. So well, in fact, that Corinne broke Eva’s curse.”

I shake my head. “That can’t be right. I’ve never read anything about that.”

“You wouldn’t have.” Aurora smiles wryly. “I only know because my mother told me during the week that I was confined to my chambers. It’s rather a family secret.”

A big one, it seems. And I wonder how many others are buried inside the palace walls. Old skeletons packed bone to bone. “What happened to them—Eva and Corinne?”

    “The Cardon family was furious. They demanded that the son they sent marry the younger princess immediately—after all, there was a chance that Eva would one day be queen. And they commanded Corinne to return home. Couples of the same gender were not as accepted in that realm.”

“Oh.” I think of the women with the butterfly sashes at Aurora’s birthday. “But Eva didn’t marry him?”

“No.” Aurora picks at the laces of her bodice. “She refused the match. She said she would marry her true love, no matter the consequences. She threatened to stow away in the ships taking Corinne back to Cardon if they tried to keep them apart.”

“Did she?”

It’s a long moment before Aurora speaks again. “They threw themselves off the Crimson Cliffs instead.”

A high, tinny note rings in my ears. “They did what?”

“I suppose Eva knew that even if she did go to Cardon, she would be in danger. As Leythana’s heir, someone would want to get a child on her or hold her ransom—especially if her elder sister died.” The wind groans down the chimney. “In any case, it was a disaster. Cardon threatened war and Briar’s small council scrambled to cover up the scandal. In the end, it was decided that princesses would be formally restricted to male suitors. What happened with Eva made it clear enough the inconvenient situations that could arise with another woman involved. Cardon still receives a yearly shipment of Etherium as payment for their loss.”

    “And so your parents would rather you die than have a woman break your curse?”

Aurora laughs, but it’s bitter. “Well, when you say it that way, it really does sound horrible.” She rubs the curse mark on her forearm and watches the hearth. “I know they only want to protect me. To protect the crown, but…”

The fire pops.

“What does happen”—I dig my toe into a smoking ember on the floor, not wanting to entertain the thought, but unable to escape it—“if you die?”

“I’m not exactly sure,” she admits quietly. “I’ve overheard my parents arguing about the subject. In truth, there won’t really be a problem until after Mother’s death, when there are no more Briar Queens. The Etherians will have to be involved at that point. It’s their blood that blessed our crown. They won’t ally with anyone else. But the small council and the other advisors keep me out of any discussions or negotiations they’re having with Etheria. I suppose they think it shouldn’t matter to me. After all, either I break the curse or I’ll be dead.”

She laughs a little again, but I don’t join her.

“It does matter to you, though. I know how much you want to rule.”

“Yes,” she says. “And I think I should be allowed to practice. Try my hand at diplomacy and dealing with the High King Oryn. In case I don’t die.” She deals me a grin. “But if I do…” She tugs at the pendant hanging from her necklace—a tiny gold dragon. “I imagine there will be another challenge.”

    Another challenge. It seems unthinkable. Briar will be in chaos.

“Of course, Father thinks the whole crisis is the fault of the former queens. He says there shouldn’t have been restrictions placed on royal births—even if it meant more women would die if they didn’t break their curse.” She screws her lips into a snarl that very much resembles one I saw in the war room. “Such a mistake would never happen in Paladay.”

He can sail right back there.

“They might keep me out of their council meetings”—her amethyst gaze snaps back to mine—“but I’m determined to begin making some of my own decisions. And one of them is to come here. And see you. If you don’t object, of course.”

It takes me a moment to find my voice. “No.”

“Good. We can figure out something with the money I leave at the front. Donate it to the Common District, they need it well enough.”

The last of my anger melts. She would think of something like that.

Aurora crosses the room and raises a tentative hand to Callow. “Who is this?”

“My kestrel. Callow.” I dig out another treat and show her how to feed the bird. “I found her on the cliffs when she was just a chick. Her mother abandoned her after her wings were broken. No one wanted her. Mistress Lavender said I should just leave her.”

“Leave her to die?” Aurora pets the speckled fluff on Callow’s head.