Marry? Gwennore glanced at the closed doors where Dimitri was standing guard outside. “Is this related to the reason why no woman would want to marry the general or his companions?”
Nissa winced. “No one wants to end up like the queen.”
Gwennore gave her an incredulous look. “How could that possibly happen? I am sorry for Her Majesty’s misfortune and madness, but those things cannot be contagious.”
“The king’s mother went mad, too,” Nissa whispered. “And now some are saying that the king may be afflicted as well.”
Gwennore stepped closer. “What is happening here?”
Nissa shook her head. “Please don’t ask me about it. It is forbidden to speak of the curse.” With a gasp, she slapped a hand across her mouth.
“A curse?”
“Don’t say it!” Nissa looked around frantically.
The dressing room door flew open and Olenka stood there, her face pale and stricken. “Did someone mention the Curse of the Three Clans?”
Nissa flinched, then clasped her sun pendant in her fist. “May the Light protect us.”
“Is that what it’s called?” Gwennore asked. “The Curse of the Three Clans?”
Olenka huffed. “Well, you didn’t hear it from me!” She glared at the maid.
“Please forgive me!” Nissa fell to her knees.
“What’s wong?” Eviana ran over with a frightened look.
“Nothing,” Gwennore assured her in Eberoni. “We-we’re just trying to decide which bed ye should rest in.”
“Oh.” Eviana pointed at the princess bed. “I want the pwetty one.”
“Of course.” Gwennore switched to Norveshki and helped Nissa to her feet. “Please don’t worry. I have no intention of telling anyone.”
“Thank you, my lady,” Nissa whispered.
“You won’t tell the general on us?” Olenka asked.
“Of course not.” As far as Gwennore was concerned, it was all nonsense. How on Aerthlan could a curse cause madness or children to die? The very notion was ridiculous!
And yet, as she looked at the empty beds, she had to wonder what could cause such tragic misfortune. The queen’s madness could certainly be attributed to the overwhelming grief of losing five children. But what about the reading Gwennore had done when she’d grabbed the queen’s wrist? Could poison be behind the queen’s madness?
Gwennore’s skin chilled when an even more horrid thought popped into her mind. What if poison had caused the deaths of all these children?
Her gaze shifted to the runes sketched above each bed. Had a dark curse dug its claws into Draven Castle? Or was something else going on, something just as sinister but caused by humans?
She pulled Eviana close. Whatever was going on here, she didn’t know, but she sensed one thing for sure.
It was evil.
Chapter Four
General Silas Dravenko was ready to slam a fist through a wall. He paced back in forth in the queen’s sitting room, frustration dogging his every step.
It had been six months since his last visit to Draven Castle, and in that time, the queen’s condition had grown considerably worse. She now believed the children she had kidnapped were actually her own. And no one dared tell her the truth. Everyone was too afraid of inciting her wrath.
Too terrified of a damned curse.
He halted, his hands clenched. How could a dragon’s dying words from five hundred years ago still be causing so much turmoil? By the Light, he was sick to death of this wretched curse! It hung over his country like an ominous black cloud that no one dared look at. Instead, his countrymen huddled in its shadow, bent over with fear, too superstitious to even speak of it.
Silas smacked a fist into the palm of his other hand. He’d never wanted to believe in the curse. Never wanted to accept all the pain that it had allegedly caused. Never wanted to surrender to a destiny of doom and despair that everyone claimed was impossible to change.
Dammit! Was he the only one who believed there had to be a logical explanation for everything? Two years ago, he’d launched an investigation into all the problems supposedly caused by the curse. He’d insisted that all the queen’s food and drink be tested before she consumed it.
Some of the courtiers had openly mocked him for denying what everyone else accepted as truth. Others had warned him that if he continued to behave in a paranoid manner, then everyone would believe that he, too, was succumbing to the curse and going crazy.
He snorted. It was crazier to actually believe in the damned curse. Unfortunately, he’d been forced to postpone his investigation when the elves attacked a Norveshki village close to the border. The king had immediately declared war against Woodwyn, and Silas had had no choice but to march the army to the southern border. For the last two years, he’d been busy protecting the country.
Thankfully, there were no recent problems with the other two countries that bordered Norveshka. Both Eberon and Tourin had new kings who wanted peace.
With a groan, Silas began to pace once again. That peace had been obliterated the second Queen Freya had ordered the kidnapping of the Eberoni princess. How could the king have gone along with it? Was Petras losing his mind, too?
Don’t even think that.
Silas had been at his camp close to the Woodwyn border when a carrier pigeon had brought the news from his spy here in the castle. His attempt to stop the fiasco hadn’t been quick enough. No doubt, King Leofric and King Ulfrid were already assembling their armies. They would demand the return of not only the princess, but also the elfin woman Gwennore, since apparently, she’d grown up with Luciana and Brigitta.
And Sorcha. The thought of her brought Silas’s steps to a halt. When he returned Gwennore and the little girl, would he be able to see Sorcha?
She won’t remember you, he thought with a sigh. She’d been only a few months old when she’d been sent away. He could hardly remember her himself, but he’d wondered about her often over the years. Had she grown up
