Page 92 of A Cage of Crystal

Cora pursed her lips against her own rage, against the truth that scalded her tongue.

The queen suddenly straightened. She must have seen something in Cora’s face, for her own paled. “Aveline…are you…”

“I was cursed.” The words came out sharp yet trembling. “The sorcerer who once invaded my home—the man who forced my brother to wage war on Menah and Selay—cursed me to die childless.”

The same silence that thickened the air after Mareleau’s confession now settled in the aftermath of Cora’s.

Mareleau’s eyes went wide. “So you can’t…”

Cora shook her head. “Not unless I can figure out how to break the curse. Which makes me an inadequate heir. And I don’t know where you’ve been all day or what you’ve heard, but my brother is being forced to abdicate. I’m expected to marry Teryn first thing in the morning and take on the mantle of queen. A queen who may put an end to the bloodline she’s expected to further. I haven’t even told Teryn yet.”

“Why not?”

“I’m afraid he’ll value having children more than marrying me.” Saying it out loud made her wince. Hearing her words somehow made her fear seem even more unfounded.

“Why would he care? It’s not like his kingdom would suffer from lack of heir. Only yours.”

Cora gave her a pointed look. “As king consort, Kherowillbe his kingdom.”

“Well, fine, I suppose that’s true. But all hope isn’t lost. You have relatives, don’t you?”

Cora shook her head. One of the first things she’d learned during her interrogations was that her nearest relatives—most of whom had served her brother at Ridine before Cora was forced to flee the castle—had died, leaving none alive to corroborate Cora’s story. It hadn’t been hard to glean why none remained living. “Morkai ensured all contenders to the throne were eliminated.”

Mareleau furrowed her brow. “Oh. Well…that doesn’t matter either. With your marriage to Teryn, you’ll have new family ties. Teryn and Larylis have younger brothers.”

Cora had never considered such an option, but appointing the role of heir to the nearest male relative wasn’t unheard of.

Mareleau spoke again. “Where do you think my father got his crown? He wasn’t born a Harvallis. He wasn’t even a prince, which is why my uncles are only lords, despite having a king for a brother. My father was simply the eldest living male blood relative of the former King of Selay. I know a distant relative doesn’t have the strongest claim, not nearly as strong as a child. And maybe you can’t further the Caelan bloodline, but do you honestly care about bloodline politics?”

Cora’s answer came easily. “No, I only care about the safety of my kingdom.”

“Then it’s settled. You’ll tell Teryn about the curse, you’ll marry, you’ll appoint an heir, and once your reign is strong, you’ll crush every last hope my uncles have at gaining more power than they deserve. Meanwhile, I’ll do the same from my kingdom.”

Cracks began to form in the heavy shroud of Cora’s fears. For the first time in days, she felt hope. Hope that remained even if she couldn’t break her curse. To think she had Mareleau to thank for such a shift in perspective.

She couldn’t stop her mouth from lifting at the corners. “I didn’t know you were such an optimist, Your Majesty.”

Mareleau lifted her chin. “Apparently all it took to improve my mood was to hear about the dire hand you’ve been dealt.”

Cora rolled her eyes. “I’m glad my plight has brought you such amusement.”

The queen stepped closer, her haughty composure back in place. “You know, you aren’t horrible. I don’t hate you.”

“And you are tolerable yourself,” Cora said dryly. Then she softened her tone. “I’m glad you don’t think children should be pawns. You’ll make…an okay mother.”

Mareleau smiled back at her. It was probably the first smile she’d ever received from the queen. But her face crumpled so suddenly, Cora hardly knew what was happening. Not until Mareleau did the absolute last thing Cora expected her to do...

She threw her arms around Cora…

And hugged her.

Mareleau was so much taller than Cora that she found her face nearly buried in the other woman’s bosom. Still, she was too shocked to move.

The queen heaved with sobs. “I’m sorry,” she said, voice strangled by hiccups. “I’m just really…emotional lately and I can’t control it. I don’t even like hugs.”

“Neither do I,” Cora muttered. And yet neither broke away. Instead, they stood a little closer, held each other a little tighter. Maybe they both needed an embrace with all they were going through, and they were simply tolerating the comfort of the last person they wanted it from. Or maybe it was more that they’d found an anchor in the other. A mirror. For in this world of cruel games and royal burdens, Cora and Mareleau were perhaps the two people who understood each other the most.

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