Page 142 of A Broken Throne of Bronze

At Viridian’s command, and with the High King’s seal, the most illustrious healers from the Copper Court have been sent to Slyfell to treat my father. As it would turn out, there is so much more to the metals than their ability to be molded and shaped into swords, candelabras, and other items. Metals, as Myrdin explained to me, have magical properties of their own, that can be channeled by their wielder. Copper is used for alchemy—the brewing of potions and tonics for a multitude of purposes. One of which is healing.

It makes sense why I hadn’t learned about this before. Humans are rarely gifted with the capacity for magic—it’s much more common among the fae, especially noble fae. Besides, the structure of our lives doesn’t leave much room for us to cultivate our abilities, even if we are lucky enough to have them. With Pelleveron blood running through my veins, it’s quite possible I possess some capacity for magic. Now, I’m eager to learn, to explore my own potential abilities, and how to wield them. But something tells me I won’t have enough time.

Heaviness sets into my chest.

I brush away the thought, and in its place, my mind drifts to thoughts of home. We’ve received word from the healers reporting on my father’s health. So far, he seems to be maintaining a stable condition. It’s been longer than I’d thought, probably much longer than he would have without the healer’s care. I hope, with the healer’s tonics, we have more time to save him and to lift the curse sickening the land.

Vorr’s curse.

Somehow, I still can’t wrap my mind around it. Wondering what he could have done, who he could have wronged that would be powerful enough to cast a curse as strong as the one that plagues us. Whoever the strange woman that Tiffy spoke of was, the servants, and the High King, are right to fear her.

The truth of my own identity only sparks more questions. How did the stranger know about me, the lost golden daughter? How could she have known about my circumstances, nearly a century before my birth? How could she know that I was destined to be Viridian’s mate? That her actions on that fateful day would be the very reason I come to High Keep, at all?

“What is it?” Viridian asks, peering over at me as we walk the grounds. It feels good to be out here, instead of drowning in the paranoia that fills the castle walls. “Something troubles you.”

I press my lips together.

“The curse?” he asks.

I nod, and I don’t have to see myself to know pain swims in my eyes.

“It could be either of us.” Viridian takes both my hands and grips them tightly. “It could be me.”

But I know it won’t be.

In my dream, Death told me I would have to make a choice. And I understand that now.

I’ll have to choose to break the curse or to walk away with my life.

I don’t have the strength to tell Viridian that he’s wrong. To crush the sliver of hope in his eyes, that he might not have to live in a world where I don’t exist.

A world without his mate. I can only imagine how painful it will be for him when our bond is severed. I almost wish we’d never bonded at all, so he wouldn’t have to endure that.

But I’m selfish. And I’m glad to die having been bonded to him.

So, I don’t tell him.

“I don’t want it to be you,” I say instead.

“I can’t go on without you.” Viridian’s voice trembles, as if the very earth he stands on might fall out from underneath his feet. “I won’t.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” I say, my own voice beginning to shake.

“Cryssa.” Viridian steps toward me, taking my face in both hands. “Don’t ask that of me.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and turn my face.

“Look at me,” he says, gently turning my head back to him. “Please, look at me.”

I do, my eyes welling with fear, sadness, dread, all mingled together into an ugly concoction of emotions.

“You are stronger than you know, Little Fawn.” Viridian’s eyes bear into mine. “Stronger than anyone here thought you could ever be. And yet, each time, you’ve proven every single one of them wrong.”

I take a deep breath, unable to tear my gaze away from him.

Viridian lingers for a moment, before taking my hand. “Come.”

We resume our stroll, simply enjoying each other’s company. The weight of our conversation still bears down on my shoulders. I can tell I’m not alone in that—Viridian’s withdrawn, eyes narrowed. I cock my head, turning my attention to the natural beauty that surrounds us. The birds chirp off in the distance, and I can make out the bustling of the city beyond High Keep’s walls.

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