Page 151 of Cursed Crowns

For a heartbeat, Tor looked guilt-stricken, but then he stiffened, his expression returning to that of an obedient soldier.

“You may go,” said Rose, deftly navigating the delicacy of the moment, not to mention the storm of emotions already clouding the little cabin. “I can take it from here.”

Tor closed the door behind him, leaving Rose alone with the Felsing siblings. She approached the bed, her hand coming to her mouth to trap her horror. Ansel looked even worse than the last time she’d seen him. He stared blankly at her, then slowly juddered to life.

“My bride,” he croaked. “Do you know, you look even more beautiful than I remember?”

Rose moved closer and perched on the edge of the bed and took his hand in hers. It was cold. Deathly cold. “Thank you, Ansel.”

“You must excuse me for not getting up. I’m so tired. More tired than I’ve ever been.”

“Ansel, my love, I think you need to sleep.” She offered him a gentle pulse of magic to ease his addled mind. “And when you wake...”

She trailed off as her voice broke. She hovered on the verge of tears for Ansel and the life he would never get to live, the future he had so desperately wanted.

“When I wake?” he prompted.

“When you wake, it will be our wedding day,” she whispered. “And it will be wonderful.”

Ansel smiled, settling back into the pillows. “It will be, won’t it?”

Rose nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Anika stifled a sob.

Rose glanced over her shoulder. “It’s time,” she said softly.

Anika flung herself on the bed, burying her face in Ansel’s chest.

Ansel tried to stroke her hair, but his arm was too heavy. “Ani, don’tcry. Weddings are supposed to be happy occasions.” He rolled his head around, toward Alarik. “I hope you’ve prepared a speech, dear brother. You are so very good at speeches... so very... so very...”

Rose glanced at Alarik. But the Gevran king remained where he was, his jaw so tight it looked painful.

“Don’t drag it out,” he said, turning his face away.

Anika drew back from her little brother. “And be gentle,” she sobbed.

Ansel yawned, his lids growing heavy. “Will there by dancing at our wedding, my flower?”

“As much as you like,” said Rose, squeezing his hand.

Ansel began to hum a waltz. Rose closed her eyes and reached for the thread of his life. It was tarnished and tangled, far beyond the talents of any healer. But she wasn’t here to mend it. She was here to set it free. She sent another pulse of magic into his bloodstream.

Ansel fell out of his song with a sigh. His lids began to flutter.

“Regarding the speech for your wedding,” said Alarik, into the silence. “I was thinking I’d tell everyone what a fine brother you are, Ansel. Better than any man could ask for. I’ll tell them how you have always been the best of us.” His voice hitched just a little. “And that we are lucky to know you. To love you.”

Ansel smiled, his body relaxing as Rose’s magic spread. “I feel happy,” he said, his voice growing distant. “So very happy.”

“Rest now,” said Rose gently.

She held on to the thread in her mind, her magic deftly untying it, knot by knot. It trembled beneath her touch, slowly turning golden once more. With a final breath, Rose let go of it. For the briefest moment, it glowed, as bright as the sun, and then shimmered away, into nothing.

Sleep well, sweet Ansel.

When Rose opened her eyes, they were filled with tears. Below her, Ansel went very still, the last of his breath leaving him. His skin was pale once more, his eyes the bright blue of a winter sky. His blond hair fell like a halo around his head, and he was still smiling, just a little. She reached up and brushed his eyes closed, and then, very gently, leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Goodbye, Ansel.”

With a sob swelling in her chest, Rose staggered to her feet. She felt more spent than she had on the day of the battle with the Arrows. Anika was slumped in a chair beside the bed, weeping into her hands. Alarik had gone to the cabin window, his shoulders so stiff he looked carved from stone. He pulled back the curtains, a shaft of winter sunlight streaming into the bedroom and casting its glow upon Ansel’s face. Alarik closed his eyes against the light, and as Rose slipped from the cabin, she could have sworn she saw a tear slip down the king’s cheek.

When Rose closed the door of the king’s cabin, she was trembling all over. A small piece of her heart had been left belowdecks with the young prince, along with the life she had once imagined with Ansel. He was a good man, cheerful and kind and full of hope for the future. He hadn’t deserved the fate that had befallen him, but at least he was at peace now. Rose had given him that if nothing else.

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