She isn’t there.
I reel to a stop in the parlor. Pale morning light streams in through the windows, the storm having exhausted itself at last. The Graces’ kits and instruments are strewn on every surface. The air reeks of potent herbs and the floral, honeyed nectar of Grace blood. But I see only Rose and Marigold, collapsed on divans with their arms thrown over their eyes.
“What have you done with her?”
Rose stirs, squinting at me. “With who?”
“Aurora.” I study the chaise where I last saw her. One of the pillows still bears a head-shaped imprint. “Where is she?”
Marigold sits up. “You mean the princess. The one you cursed with your filthy blood?”
Rose smooths her dressing gown. “She’s gone.”
“Gone?” The question hitches. “Where? What’s happened?”
“As if it’s any of your concern,” Marigold huffs. “We broke your horrible curse. She’ll wake up and—”
“That’s enough.” Mistress Lavender appears behind me, setting her lamp on a table. The rose-shaped glass is chipped. “The princess has returned to the palace. Where she belongs.”
“Back to the palace?” I repeat. “Without speaking to me? Did she ask for me?”
“She can’t, you idiot.” Marigold grumbles something else about Vila filth, and I bare my teeth at her. She recoils.
“Not yet,” Rose adds quietly. There’s something like guilt in her golden eyes, but it vanishes an instant later.
“What are they talking about?” I whip back to Mistress Lavender, who purses her lips, clearly giving away more than she intended.
“We were able to soften your curse.”
“It wasn’t my curse.” But it was. “It was an accident.”
Mistress Lavender waves away the explanation. “It’s done now. The princess will wake soon, and nothing more need ever be known of this incident. You will not see her again.”
Incident. That’s all I’ll ever be to Briar.
“Even if she did see her, it wouldn’t matter.” Rose again. Mistress Lavender makes a noise of protest, but Rose ignores her. “The curse, whatever it was, was altered. The princess is sleeping. She will wake again, with a kiss.”
Hope canters through my limbs. “I can wake her. Our kiss broke the curse the first time.”
“Your kiss?” Marigold’s face is a mask of disbelief and disgust.
This time, I cannot stop myself. My magic lunges, finding Marigold’s small heart of power in an instant. It feels like putty against mine, so easy to meld and mash. Marigold croaks, her mouth falling open as her lips darken. Agony explodes in her eyes, like falling stars.
“Alyce, enough!” Mistress Lavender’s hands are on my shoulders, shaking me violently. My concentration falters and I let Marigold go. She slumps in her chair, head back and staring at the ceiling as her chest heaves. “What’s gotten into you?”
“It was always there,” Rose says. Her expression has not changed at all, her golden eyes cool and calculating. “We didn’t call her Malyce for nothing.”
Still primed, my power begs me to reach in and squeeze her golden Grace magic until her eyes are as empty as Kal’s were. But what’s the point? She’s not worth the effort.
“Your kiss cannot break the curse.” Rose picks a bit of fluff from her sleeve. “There are protections in place.”
Protections. The word sizzles in my mind like acid. “That isn’t possible.”
“It was decided”—Mistress Lavender wrings her hands—“that the princess will wake with a kiss from a suitor of the royal family’s choosing.”
Of Tarkin’s choosing. “They can’t—”
“It’s done, Alyce.” Sunlight glints off the amethyst ring on her finger, as if the Briar rose itself is winking. Mocking me. “Your kiss will not wake her. In matters like these, the Etherians can use their power to put up shields. To protect the innocent.”
The way they had bound Kal. Had trapped Mortania inside the medallion.
“No.” I retreat until my shoulder blades meet the doorframe. “He couldn’t have.”
Rose shrugs. “I suppose we’ll find out. I bet they wake her this morning.” She inspects the beds of her fingernails. “It’s a shame you’ll miss the wedding. The princess and Prince Elias will make a beautiful couple.”
The wedding. As if summoned by Rose’s words, the bells of Briar begin to ring. Full and majestic, the same bells that announced the breaking of the curse. How different they sound to my ears only a day later.
“There will be no wedding,” I vow, as much to myself as to the others.
“Really?” Rose twirls a pink curl around one finger. “What are you going to do about it?”
That same feeling from the black tower washes over me. I am Vila. And I have Mortania’s magic inside me now. Nothing will stop me. Certainly not these vain, vapid creatures.
“Rose, do you remember when your elixirs soured?”
The smirk on her lips disappears.
“You were right.” I grant her my most saccharine smile, already beginning to Shift. A tingling starts in the tips of my toes and gallops up my legs. “It had nothing to do with your gift waning.”
“You.” She leaps from the lounge and reaches for the first sharp object she can find. A gilded knife, the blade still slick with the remnants of an enhancement. “I knew it. Beast. Mongrel. I will—”
But her rage melts to shock as my spine lengthens and my hair fills out, falling in lush waves around my face. The burn behind my eyes tells me they’ve changed from black to gold. Rose’s knife thumps as it hits the rug.
“What I did with your elixirs was the very least of my abilities. For twenty years I’ve let this realm trample over my back. Keep me caged and controlled. But I am not a beast. Not a mongrel. I am Vila. My power will never Fade. And you’re about to feel every bit of it come down upon your heads.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Their astonished and outraged cries swell as the door to Lavender house slams behind me for the last time. I have no doubt that they will call the guards. Let them. With my Shift complete, I look like a cerulean-haired Grace. Limbs still buzzing, I slip into
