Page 82 of The Maleficent Faerie
“There are things I regret deeply.” My voice grates through my throat. Like the rest of me, it hasn’t been the same since the day I secured the Edge.
“I’ll get to the point, my Lord.” Dawn’s eyes meet mine—fearless, kind. No obsequious adulation, no maudlin pity. I can see why Aura liked her.
“Neither of us are happy with the way things have gone,” she says, “but there may be one thing we can change. I overheard a rumor last week, that there’s a way to break Aura’s curse—that someone who loves her can take her place.”
“The Royals were supposed to speak to you about that weeks ago.” I almost frown before I remember the pain the expression will cause me. “I didn’t know how to contact you directly, so I sent the message through them.”
“They failed to deliver it,” she says crisply. “Perhaps because, since Aura’s capture and my discovery of the truth, they have treated me like a servant. Worse—they’ve treated me like someone hired to play a role, and now that I’ve completed the part, I have no further place in their home. It doesn’t seem to matter to them that I thought it was real. That I thought they loved me.”
“I am sorry for that.”
Her eyes glitter with tears, but she tips her chin up resolutely. “I didn’t come here for your pity. I came here for Aura. She’s a sister to me, and she was duped, like I was. She doesn’t deserve any of this. I’m an orphan, trained as a Royal, with no throne in my future. I have no place, no purpose, no family, except her. She is the Crown Princess, the future Conduit—and she will make a far better ruler than either of her parents ever did. So it is my duty, as her sister and her subject, to make this sacrifice for her.”
I stand frozen, galvanized with hope. “You understand you’ll have to take her place? Sleep for a hundred years?”
Dawn pales a little, but she nods. “I understand.”
“I’m working on a dissolution spell that will free you—within a week or two, I hope. But unless my magic stabilizes soon, I’ll have to call on some other Fae to cast it. Rest assured, I will do everything in my power to ensure you are awakened as quickly as possible.”
“That’s kind of you.” Dawn gives me a small smile. “I trust you will honor your word. But even if it’s not possible to wake me before the century is over, please tell Aura that I did this willingly, because I love her.”
A wave of exhilaration rushes over me at the thought of Aura being awakenedtoday. I might see her within the hour.
And just as quickly, dread fills my soul, because there can be no future for us as long as I’m locked in this tortured form.
I’ve tried to use Void magic on my body, but it would not heal me, nor could I take any form besides the shadow-dragon. Perhaps, now that the treaty has been signed, I could ask the Three Faeries for help with my wounds. It would grate against my pride, but if it means being with Aura again—I’ll do anything.
“My Lord?” Kyan speaks from the doorway. “Are you all right?”
Suddenly I realize I’m hunched over, clutching the bedpost for support. I unclench my fingers slowly, wincing as moist, exposed flesh peels away from the wood. “I’m as well as can be expected, Kyan.”
“Shall we see Aura then? I’m ready.” Dawn presses her lips together, her eyes bright with purpose.
“Would you like anything first?” I ask. “Food, drink?”
“No thank you,” she says firmly. “Just my sister.”
Oleander, shadeflower, and white jessamine cluster in delicate vases, unfurling their fragrance throughout the quiet room where Aura lies under silken sheets. Her body is in a kind of stasis—she needs no sustenance or physical care, but the years of her life will slowly tick away under the somnolent veil of the curse.
Her golden hair swirls on the pillow, a halo to her lovely face. I’m still not used to seeing her like this—placid, motionless, peaceful. She is a creature of fire and blades, fueled by anger, duty, and passion. I miss the light of her eyes, the strength of her body as she rode me, the nip of her teeth, the taste of her arousal. I miss the way she hurt me, and the way she understood me.
I’m still masked, but something in my demeanor must give Dawn a hint of my feelings. That, or Kyan mentioned something to Dawn before he brought her to me. She touches my knuckles where the skin still exists and murmurs, “You care about her.”
“You can laugh,” I croak. “I know it’s idiotic. We only knew each other for a few days.”
“But your lives were bound together for longer than that.”
“Bound by my stupidity and pride.”
“I would say you have overpaid for any mistakes.”
She is gentle, this false princess, this girl who was duped more cruelly than Aura. She doesn’t seem angry about it, only faintly bitter and deeply sad.
“You have to kiss her,” I say. “And then the curse will pass to you.”
She gives my knuckles a final pat and moves to Aura’s side. Her traveling dress is a simple one, brown with a creamy lining, slit up the side to permit riding, with sturdy leather leggings beneath. A servant’s garb, but rich enough to denote her royal connections. Her hair doesn’t have the golden, glossy abundance of Aura’s—it’s thinner, paler, and neatly plaited. Dawn is a shadow of the Princess she was raised to be.
And yet, she has a heart of love and sacrifice, unlike the Three Faeries who raised Aura as their own, or the Royals who used their only daughter as a pawn in political games. This orphan girl, this child they claimed and then cast off—she is worth more than all of them.
