“It’s good to see you again.” Gwennore smiled at her. “Thank you for agreeing to be my maid.”
Nissa blushed. “The other maids are afraid of you, my lady, but I told them you’re actually nice. Unfortunately, they’re still convinced that you’ll murder your lover—”
“Excuse me?”
Nissa bit her lip. “Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned that. How about a blue gown, since it’s Sapphirday? It would look lovely with your eyes.”
Gwennore followed her into the dressing room. “People are saying I’m going to murder General Dravenko?”
Nissa glanced at the chair and dressing table pushed up against the door to Silas’s dressing room. “Oh, my, is the affair over?”
“No, it—”
“Oh, thank the Light. I can’t imagine anyone turning down an affair with the general. He’s so handsome.” Nissa selected a blue velvet gown.
“But I heard no one wants to marry him or Dimitri,” Gwennore said as the gown slid over her shoulders.
“Or Aleksi,” Nissa added. “Because of you-know-what.”
“The Curse of the Three Clans?”
Nissa grimaced and looked around.
“We’re alone here, Nissa. I hope to get rid of the curse, but it will be hard to do if I don’t learn more about it.”
Nissa grabbed on to the gold-painted wooden orb that hung from the leather thong around her neck. “May the Light protect us.”
“There could be no harm in simply repeating the story,” Gwen insisted. “Can you tell me how the curse started?”
“It was five hundred years ago,” Nissa whispered. “When the Ancient Ones ruled the skies and the country.”
Gwennore recalled that the giant redwoods had referred to the Ancient Ones. “Who are the Ancient Ones?”
“The first dragons.” Nissa leaned close. “They were vicious and hoarded all the gold and jewels for themselves. If the Norveshki people didn’t mine the mountains and give the dragons enough gold and precious jewels, the dragons would set their villages ablaze.”
“That sounds terrible.”
“Oh, it was.” Nissa nodded, her eyes wide. “We were like their slaves. But about five hundred years ago, the dragons became lazy. All they wanted to do was lie about their caves, wallowing in piles of gold and jewels. And that’s when a wealthy man named Magnus made a deal with them. Magnus owned several mountains that were said to be full of rubies and emeralds. If his seven sons mined the mountains for the dragons, then the dragons would let him rule over the Norveshki people in their stead, as long as he did whatever the dragons told him to do.”
Gwennore nodded. “So this Magnus made himself king?”
“Yes, although he was more like a puppet for the dragons.” Nissa tightened the laces on Gwennore’s gown as she continued. “But then something terrible happened. One of the mountains caved in while the seven sons were inside, and the oldest two were killed.”
“So five of them survived?” Gwennore asked.
“They were injured terribly,” Nissa whispered. “Magnus was afraid they would die and he would have no heir to the throne, so he begged the dragons to help him. And one of them, by the name of Fafnir, said he would help.”
“How?”
Nissa hesitated. “I—I dare not say. But two more of the brothers died because of it. Only three of them survived what Fafnir did. Their names were Draven, Tolen, and Maren. Even though they lived, they blamed the dragons for the deaths of their brothers. So eventually, they rebelled against the Ancient Ones and overthrew them. It made the old dragons furious, so they cursed the three brothers and their progeny for all eternity.”
“So the Three Cursed Clans are the descendants of those three brothers?”
Nissa nodded. “The Dravenko clan is descended from Draven. And then, there’s the Tolenko clan and Marenko clan.”
So Dimitri was from the Tolenko clan and Aleksi from the Marenko, Gwennore thought. It made sense since she knew the word ko in Norveshki meant “son of.” “And women are afraid to marry into those clans?”
With a wince, Nissa touched the golden bead on her necklace. “According to the curse, the descendants’ seed will shrivel and die. And all those who thirst for power will go mad. So it is believed that any woman who marries into the three clans is doomed. She’ll lose her children, go insane, or die a terrible death.”
Gwennore scoffed. “Obviously, some of the children have survived, or the clans wouldn’t still be here after five hundred years.”
“Oh.” Nissa tilted her head, considering. “Well, there aren’t that many descendants. You can usually tell who the men are, since they all tend to have black hair.”
Gwennore recalled that most of the people she’d seen in Norveshka had either red or blond hair. And from what she’d seen of the villages, it appeared that infant mortality might be a serious problem for the entire country. “I noticed when we were traveling today that there aren’t many children in any of the villages.”
Nissa heaved a mournful sigh. “That’s because the curse has spread beyond the three clans, and now the whole country is suffering.”
“But I doubt a curse could do that. It would make more sense if it was caused by something like the plague that swept through the country about twenty years ago.”
Nissa hung her head. “Even if that’s true, everyone believes the plague is simply part of the curse. Women all over the country are having trouble conceiving children.”
Gwennore swallowed hard. No wonder Silas was desperate. If the Norveshki were suffering from widespread infertility, the country would not survive. “Thank you for telling me, Nissa. I will do my best to help.”
“Thank you.” Nissa selected a pair of blue slippers. “I knew you couldn’t be vicious like the others say.”
Gwennore rolled her eyes, then slipped her feet into the blue velvet shoes. All this time spent dressing up seemed like a waste. She and Silas had made plans on the journey, and she was eager to set them into motion.
“Come and sit.” Nissa motioned to the chair. “We need to do your hair.”
Gwennore winced when she realized Nissa had moved the table and chair away
