Page 45 of Cursed

“Well,” Silas said, turning his gaze immediately to Edeena. “Edeena,” he said, clipping off the word as if it was a condemnation. “Good of you to finally accept your responsibilities.”

Edeena’s own broad smile didn’t dim as she stepped toward her father and enveloped him in a hug. He was an ass, but there was something about him tonight that seemed to tug at her heartstrings, no matter all the terrible things he’d done in the name of the family—things that would make this polite group of royals and nobles faint if they knew. But seeing him now, he looked . . . well, tired, more than anything else.

He stood back, scowling at her as the queen departed with gracious discretion, and Edeena tried to find the words to mend the fences she’d been diligently trying to destroy between them.

Then he had to go and open his mouth and ruin everything.

“I assume you’ve made your choice already,” he said gruffly, looking around the room. “This is merely a formality. For God’s sake, do not pick Millya. He’s no better than a pig farmer, I don’t care if their production turned to wine this past generation.”

Edeena blinked. “Well, I—”

“And Rico, I saw you eyeing him. He’s not acceptable. I won’t allow it.”

Her eyes widened. “But you and his father are friends.”

“His father owes me money. You better believe I’ll stay his friend until he pays that loan off,” Silas sneered. “The quicker you understand how people work, Edeena, the sooner you’ll realize that it doesn’t pay to become sentimental.”

Edeena stiffened. “No one would ever accuse me of being sentimental, Father. Least of all you.”

“Sentimental, no. But neither have you paid any attention to tradition. And tradition matters, it has always mattered. The Saleri curse must fall, and it will fall, in this generation. I will be the one to make sure that happens.”

“You?” Edeena snapped, irritation flaring despite her best efforts. “You’ve done nothing but twist everything to your own plans since the moment that Mother died. And for what? Because we’re all girls? We’re a special generation? Mother didn’t care about that—she was simply happy we existed.” Edeena threw her hands up in exasperation. “I’m going to break this curse, Father, I know the ancient rules and I am going to bow down before them and do everything I can to satisfy whatever gods still care about what happens to the Saleris. But the moment I do, your power over me, over Marguerite and Caroline is at an end. We’ll all be free to build new lives, and they’ll be able to find real love and real joy and you and your obsessions, your traditions and your curses will be done. Mark my words, Father, they will be done.”

Silas’s face darkened for a moment, whether in anger or genuine shock at her lengthy outburst, Edeena didn’t know—and didn’t care. It was more than she’d ever said to her father, but it felt right…it felt true.

The music was starting up in a traditional reel, and she had a job to do.

She whirled away from Silas and headed for the middle of the room.

Vince shrugged off the wall he’d been holding up as the music kicked into some sort of upbeat country reel, not quite a waltz but something far shy of a country swing line dance. Still, it seemed to galvanize the room as if this was what everyone had been waiting for. The men in particular perked up, looking genuinely interested, and Vince hid his grimace. What the hell was wrong with these people?

“You look as if you don’t approve, Prince Rallis.”

Whoops. Apparently he hadn’t done a very good job masking his expression after all. He looked sideways at Queen Catherine, and managed an abashed smile.

“I confess, it’s not the way we do things at home, not that we have any particular claim to knowing what we’re doing when it comes to relationships back in America.”

“And your own parents? They’re still living, I hope?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded as he watched Edeena twirl around the center of the growing circle of men, all of them engaged in some dance they looked like they’d learned about twenty minutes before entering the room. “Mom and Dad both alive, both still happily married. But they’re Greek.” He shrugged. “It’s a point of pride with them to stay married, give a good example for the younger generation.”

“Indeed.”

Vince saw his mistake, tried to rectify it before the queen continued talking.

“I know, I know, what Edeena is doing here is also intended to keep up with that idea of good example, but . . .” he winced again as the music changed tempo, and the men broke apart, clapping and stamping their feet as Edeena was squired by the first of their number. The man was an absolute beanpole, tall and cadaverously thin, but he had a wide grin and an affable nature that had Vince liking him despite his awkward appearance. He turned Edeena around the circle a few times, like she was some kind of show pony, then dutifully handed her off to bachelor number two.

Good lord, there had to be at least thirty men in that circle, Vince realized. This was how Edeena was supposed to get to know someone?

As if she was reading his thoughts, the queen spoke again. “And how long did your parents know each other before they realized that they were the right match. Did they ever tell you that story?”

At this point, Vince wasn’t particularly listening to the queen. He was too busy watching Edeena. She was laughing, carefree almost, the perfect vision of a debutante being squired around by her partners. The older attending members of this bizarre event were watching and laughing as well, and even the apparently single women in the audience had a strange look. One not quite of envy, but not derision either. Maybe there was something to be said for having a crazy, messed up dance set up for you, where the entire community gave a shit about who you danced with and why.

Almost by muscle memory, he realized the queen had asked him a question. He answered it just as automatically.

“My parents met when they were teenagers, to hear them tell the story. Younger than that, maybe. They were in school, and one day they ran into each other in the hallway—like, literally ran into each other, my father haring off in one direction and my mother barreling along in the other. They crashed and books, pens, papers went flying.” He grinned, shaking his head as Edeena bowed graciously to a kid who looked younger than Vince’s own brothers, but who proudly stepped up to take her hand. “As the story goes, by the time they had everything picked up, they were already planning how many children they’d have together.”

There was no response and Vince tore his gaze away from Edeena to look down at the queen. She was beaming at him with sublime satisfaction, and he scrambled back in his mind over what he’d said, trying to determine what it was that had generated such a strong reaction. Before he could puzzle it out, the queen gestured to the circle. “You must join them, Prince Rallis,” she said, and he blinked at her.

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