Page 99 of Heirs of the Cursed

“I don’t see your girlfriend or your friend in the crowd,” Alasdair said, in a failed attempt to comfort her. “I think they got away in time.”

She should be glad to hear that, she should be relieved, but Darcia’s mind was overflowed by her thoughts and those from the people around her.

“Do you think it’s true that someone is hiding the cursed princess?”

Alasdair focused his gaze on the soldiers before responding, “Maybe.”

“It doesn’t make any sense,” Darcia said. “No one would dare oppose the king in this way. Not with someone so dangerous. They aren’t to blame for what is happening. And Harg . . .”

“Maybe they don’t know who they are.”

Bitter tears burned her cheeks. She might have been interested in the princesses, in the curse that was spreading through the Fallen Kingdom . . . She’d felt sorry for them having to live a life hidden in the shadows to ensure their own survival. Now, Darcia only wished they would turn themselves in so that things could go back to their strange and sad normalcy.

“He said they’re protecting one cursed princess. What about the other?”

“To the best of our knowledge, she is in Bellmare.”

“And they’ll burn down two cities just to find them?”

“You’d be surprised what people are willing to do for ambition and power,” Alasdair remarked. His arms still protected Darcia’s body, holding her firmly against his chest.

Hundreds of emotions broke her soul at the various possibilities that could plunge the city into inevitable chaos. Her heart clenched in her chest, clouding her judgment, but the only thing she was certain of was that she had to do something before it was too late.

“I must warn my father,” Darcia gulped, wiping away her tears. “And search for my friends. I have to get them far away from here.”

“And then? You’ll talk to the general to see if he’ll come to his senses? He’s a psychopath, Darcia. He was born to be a soldier and he’s become a manslayer. In matters of the Crown, that man will do anything to please his king.”

Darcia knew he was right. Even if she intervened, there was no guarantee of salvation for Dawnfall. She was nothing more than an illusionist whose powers could get out of control and create a major catastrophe for those she wanted to save.

Darcia summoned all her strength to stand up. The bones in her knees protested and her half-numb muscles contracted. She wasn’t going to stand there any longer, waiting for the world to turn its back on the ones she loved. Alasdair looked down at her from the ground before standing upright.

“You must go. You have nothing left in Dawnfall.”

“Maybe I have an important mission I’ve never told you about.”

“Well, if you do, hurry,” Darcia urged him. “This city’s hours are numbered.”

“Let me come with you,” he offered, stepping in her direction with determination in his emerald gaze.

For a brief moment, they both looked at each other in search of answers to different kinds of questions. Still, Darcia dared to ask the one that was agitating her mind only when she was certain that the thief’s proposal wasn’t a bad joke.

“Why?”

“Because I want to,” he answered, succinctly.

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“Weren’t we friends?”

Could they consider themselves friends? He was a thief sought after by the world and she an illusionist without a shred of freedom. They got on each other’s nerves almost every time they encountered one another, and yet Darcia felt a strange sensation of safety around him.

“You should go somewhere safe,” she said.

“Are you worried about me?”

Yes.

“No,” she lied unconvincingly. “I just don’t want anyone in my way.”

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