Page 8 of Beneath the Cursed Veil

“Remind me why I’m doing this again?” I asked as she straightened the sash across my chest.

“Because you can’t go door-to-door looking for a woman you don’t know. It’s creepy,” she said, patting my chest and scrunching her nose at me.

“Right . . .” Some might argue hiring people to search for her was also disturbing. At least Kaia had. It’s not like I was paying them to peep through blinds. I just wanted to meet her, if for nothing else than to figure out why we had this connection.

Was it something I’d done? Was it her doing?

I twisted my lips, frustrated by my lack of answers. My expression must have given me away. Kaia sighed, her lips pulling up into an empathetic smile as her eyes softened with concern.

“I’m worried about you, Vareck.”

I swallowed any annoyance because logically I knew her worry was warranted. If the situations were reversed, I’d feel the same. “I’m fine.”

Kaia scoffed. “That’s exactly what someonewho wasn’t ‘fine’ would say.”

I didn’t respond. She was right, as usual, but what was there to say?

I ruled a failing kingdom that was perpetually on the brink of starvation. My court of sycophants both hated and revered me. My father was the cause of this endless winter, but I was the only one who could end it. I was fairly certain that was the only reason I still breathed. Someone would have tried to assassinate me by now simply out of rage—and succeeded—if not for the prophecy that stayed their hands.

“Please don’t shut me out,” Kaia continued.

This time I couldn’t hold in the sigh. “I’m not trying to, but we’ve had this conversation. I might not be the happiest of kings, but I think it’s understandable given the state ofthings.”

“Things,” she repeated.

“Should I make a list?”

She narrowed her eyes, not amused. “The issues in Faerie aren’t the cause of this. That’s an excuse. One I’ve let you use before because I sensed you weren’t ready to talk about it.”

“Then what’s changed?”

“You,” she answered simply. “I’ve known you for a long time. You may feel guilt over the circumstances that led you to being king—but that’s never stopped you from trying your damnedest to fix it. The greenhouses. The robust trading system. While your ideas haven’t fixed the problem at hand, they’ve made it a hell of a lot better. Faerie would be a barren wasteland right now if not for you.”

“I’m not seeing your point.”

Kaia’s jaw tightened. “Mypointis that you’ve always been singularly focused. Driven. Sometime in the last few years . . . that’s changed. I don’t know how to describe it,but I can see it in you. You’re only half present at meetings. You’re letting the courts of the high and low fae make decisions on your behalf. We’re losing you, Vareck.”

“I’m right here,” I said softly.

“Physically, yes. But mentally? You’re withdrawn. I know it has something to do with your mystery woman. Every time one of the private investigators you sent out turns up with nothing, a little bit more of you slips away.” I opened my mouth to refute her, but she silenced me with a hand. “Don’t insult our friendship by spouting false truths. What started as a curiosity is slowly turning into an obsession.”

I let out a harsh breath, my chest tightening. “I know. I know you’re right, but I . . . I can’t let this go. You don’t understand, Kaia. I dream of her every single night now. I’mwithsomeone, and yet I’ve never met her. In the beginning I could write it off as me needing a reprieve from my role as king, but now” —I paused, running a hand through my unruly hair— “she has to be real. If she’s not, then we have a bigger problem at hand.”

“You’re not crazy,” Kaia said sternly.

I half smiled. “Corvo thinks I might be.”

“Corvo is a fucking cat who enjoys ribbing you because it’s entertaining for him. He’s just bored.”

“Doesn’t mean he’s wrong.”

“Doesn’t mean he’s right either,” she retorted just as easily. “I get why you’re doing this. The search parties. The balls. If you weren’t king, you’d be out there looking yourself.” I didn’t correct her. She knew me well. Kaia tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling as she took a deep breath.

“Do you believe she’s real?” I asked quietly. It was a question I’d thought about many times but could never bring myself to voice.

“I don’t know,” my best friend answered honestly. “For a while I assumed it was the stress of everything. I thought it would go away. Then it didn’t. Now . . .” She shook her head, letting her words trail off.

“You know what comes next if I don’t find her.”

---