Page 20 of Heirs of the Cursed

Gion’s words no longer sounded firm, for Darcia had sunk in Conrad’s mind. Just as she’d learned for her performances, she glided gracefully to avoid touching the flashing red scarlet threads and thus prevent her stepbrother from detecting her.

Conrad finished his glass of whiskey in one gulp and answered, “I don’t know, but I’ll find out. I received a letter from the king himself, informing me that the princesses were never there.”

“For years, they’ve sent a scout at the beginning of every sun to make sure everything remained intact.”

“Fear, like love, makes men stupid. And all the soldiers that Kirus Allencort sent to the Fallen Kingdom turned out to be cowards. The only thing that led Leonel Ramsdean to these findings was the holly of death covering the princesses’ cradles.”

“And for what reason did they send a scout? It’s autumn, three months away from the last full moon,” Gion replied logically.

An uneasy silence thundered inside her stepbrother’s mind. “King Kirus’ newborn son turned to stone minutes after the queen gave birth to him.”

The seventh heir haddied.

And if the curse had reached the royal family, Kirus Allencort would destroy all of Laivalon in order to find the missing princesses and eliminate them for good.

The darkness around her became more engrossing, and Darcia’s breathing quickened. She had to get out of there soon if she didn’t want to get lost inside Conrad’s dark mind. Yet she breathed in and concentrated even harder, ignoring the dull ache pressing against her temples.

She could control it for a little while longer.

So Darcia listened and waited.

“That’s not possible,” Gion stammered.

“And yet it is,” Conrad said a little more irritably. “That’s why the king sent Harg Koller here. He knew he would find me and that I could be of help. If the Chaser has shown it to you, you must know the curse is spreading. The lost princesses must return to their birthplace so we can stop this nonsense and the darkness can claim the price: their magic and their lives.”

“The people of Dawnfall are in danger, then.”

“No one is in danger if they have nothing to hide,Father.”

That was enough for Darcia to snap out of his head and return to reality. Her nails dug into her palms as she reminded herselfof the many consequences of staying too long inside someone’s mind, such as the gradual merging of her consciousness with that of the host and fading into uncontrollable darkness.

A tremor of uncertainty made her hesitate slightly, but she stood up all the same to get out of the tub. She had to let the other circus members know, to protect them. While the soldiers might respect Conrad, the order of things was very different for those who had nothing to offer.

Wrapped in the towel, Darcia moved toward the window, her gaze drawn to the endless expanse of the starry night beyond. The city, where innocents lived and slept in silence. She couldn’t let a curse destroy her home, because losing Dawnfall would mean losing everything she’d built, everything the goddesses had given her.

Evrethia, where the only entrance to the Fallen Kingdom stood, was a week’s journey from Dawnfall. If it was true that doom had come to Camdenn, it wouldn’t be long before it swept through the rest of the cities . . .

Darcia closed her eyes and leaned against the window frame.

To die turned to stone is a bitter fate that no one deserves, she thought.

The bathroom door creaked open, and Darcia turned on her bare feet. She only managed to catch a glimpse of brown hair before she was struck in the back of the knees and dragged into the tub.

Her head was yanked underwater, and the burning sensation from lack of air set in.

Darcia fought with all her might, as she’d done since she was a child. She struggled, screamed at the top of her lungs and tried desperately to free herself. But Conrad’s firm hand on the back of her neck wouldn’t relent.

Darcia couldn’t breathe.

She had no air.

She couldn’t . . .

When her stepbrother pulled her head out of the tub, she expelled the water from her lungs with a violent cough, shivering uncontrollably. Conrad grabbed her long, golden hair to force her to look directly at him. As their gazes met, she clung to the towel, trying to cover her body and hide the shame that throbbed in her chest.

“What are you playing at?” Conrad demanded.

“I didn’t do anything.”

---