Princess of Thorns

I move forward, ready to defend my love, but she stops me with a hand on my arm and a softly whispered, “No, Niklaas, don’t interfere,” and I step back.

I listen as Aurora explains a fairy curse she’s under and what it has done to me, but none of it makes sense until she swears that she did what she did so that we could be married, so she could save me from my own curse. Mention of our marriage makes me grin again. I can’t wait to be her husband, to be by her side, forever and always.

“You can’t marry him now,” Gettel says, anger and sadness thick in her voice.

“Yes, I can,” Aurora says. “I must! If I don’t, he only has eight days left.”

“You don’t understand, child.” Gettel wipes at her eyes, sweeping away tears. “A true marriage can only occur when two souls freely choose to bind themselves together. Niklaas isn’t free. He’s incapable of making his own choices.”

“But he can speak the vows,” Aurora says. “He can—”

“Even if you find a priest willing to perform the ritual with him in that state,” Gettel says with another sad look in my direction, “the marriage will be invalid in the eyes of the gods.”

“Damn the gods,” Aurora snaps. “I don’t believe in the gods, and even if I—”

“Believe or don’t believe,” Gettel says, her tone harder than it was before. “There is a force that co

“That’s not true.” Aurora shakes her head. “It can’t be.”

“It is true,” Gettel says. “No one knows what it will take to banish a curse better than the one who placed it.”

She lifts her arm, touching two fingers to my forehead, throwing open a door in my memory. Images from the night I met the witch in the shrine flood my mind. In each one of them it is Gettel’s face that looks up at me, Gettel’s voice that assures me there is a way to change my fate.

“It’s you,” I say. “The witch, the one who took my armor.” I know I should be furious for the trick she played on me, outraged by the lies she’s told, but any emotion not tied to Aurora’s happiness is impossible to muster.

“What?” Aurora’s eyes widen as glances between us. “What do you mean? Why didn’t he know that before?”

“I banished the memory of my face so that Niklaas would trust me when we met again.” Gettel turns to me. “And I took your armor to keep you from being spotted by your father’s guards on your way here. My magic told me you would come to me in Frysk, bringing a girl who would break your curse with you. I wanted that for you. That’s why I went to Kanvasola. To help you.”

“Help him?” Aurora shouts. “You cursed him!”

“If I hadn’t cursed him, his father would have found someone else to do it. At least I was merciful. Or tried to be.” Gettel rubs her forehead with a shaking hand. “But now, it’s too late. Niklaas will be transformed, like his brothers.”

“No.” Aurora shakes her head. “I don’t believe you.”

“As I said, it doesn’t matter what you believe; it’s the truth.” Gettel’s shoulders slump and suddenly she looks every one of her sixty-two years. “In eight days’ time, Niklaas will become a swan. There is nothing anyone can do to save him now.”

“But there must be.” Aurora begins to cry again, filling me with despair. I can’t help but feel what she feels. It’s as if I have no heart of my own, only an echo of her heart, reverberating in the cavernous space within my chest. “I can’t have ruined him for nothing. I can’t!”

“If only you’d spoken to me, I could have warned you.” Gettel pulls her shawl tighter. “He loved you. He would have realized the truth before it was too late. You only had to have faith.”

“I wasn’t raised to have faith in love,” Aurora says, fingertips digging into her temples. “I was raised to have faith in the blood that blessed me and the power in my own two hands.”

“Your mother died for love of you, and your Fey mother lived for it,” Gettel says, a chill in her words. “I’ve felt how old her magic is. She shouldn’t be walking the ground, but she is, and you are the reason. Her love for you. Her need to protect you.”

“But I—”

“My own niece risked her life for yours. I haven’t had word from Crimsin since you arrived. She could be dead, her life forfeited to protect her princess and the country she loves,” Gettel says, fresh tears rising in her eyes. “And this boy overcame extraordinary odds to protect you, when no one would have known if he had left you in the Feeding Hills to die. If all that hasn’t given you faith in love, then you will never have faith in anything, and when you face the ogre queen, you will fail us all.”

Aurora sucks in a breath. I can feel how much Gettel has hurt her, but Aurora told me not to interfere, so I stay where I am.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I just meant that … love didn’t save my mother. Love isn’t going to keep my brother alive. I thought I had to act, I didn’t—”

“Gram! Are you coming?” Kat shouts from the grass near the stage. “It’s almost time for my song!”

Gettel holds up a finger. “One second, sugar,” she calls over her shoulder before turning back to Aurora. “You may still save your brother, but it will be harder without the true Niklaas by your side. You were stronger together than either of you are apart.” She casts a sad glance my way before taking Aurora’s hand and pressing it between both of hers. “Go back to the house, take anything you need for the journey. Take my horse, and an extra saddle. You’ll travel faster if you each have your own mount.”

“We’ll leave tonight,” Aurora says, staring at the ground.

“I think that’s best. There will moonlight enough to find your way. Take the southern road. About three hours out, you’ll see my daughter’s tower. There is a cabin two fields to the west, where I stay when I visit her. You can sleep there and get a fresh start in the morning.” Gettel releases Aurora’s hand. “The cabin is warded, but once you leave it, Ekeeta’s spies will be able to see you. Whatever your plan, you’d best have it in place by then. She’ll be watching.”

“Thank you,” Aurora says, then adds in a miserable whisper, “I truly am sorry. More than you can imagine.”

“I know.” Kindness mixes with the sadness in Gettel’s eyes as she kisses Aurora’s cheek. “But sorry doesn’t do anyone any good, least of all our Niklaas.” She tucks a flower back into Aurora’s hair and squeezes her shoulder, softening the words. “Trust in your fairy gifts. Trust in them and they will protect you. Rage against them, and you will be your own undoing.”

Gettel walks away, crossing to the stage where the children are lining up to sing songs in honor of the dead who passed before they came of age. Usually the Children’s Requiem makes me sad, but tonight I don’t feel anything, can’t seem to focus on anything except Aurora and how best to please her.

“I’m still sorry,” Aurora says. For a moment I think she’s talking to Gettel, but when I look down she’s staring up at me. “Whether it does any good or not.”

“This means we aren’t getting married?” I ask, squeezing her hand.

“No.” Aurora presses her lips together. “You don’t want to marry me,” she says, and suddenly it’s true. I don’t want to marry her. I don’t want anything that she doesn’t want.

“But I can’t leave you,” I say, an emotion of my own rising inside of me for the first time since our kiss ended. The thought of being without her is crippling. “I don’t know who I am without you.”

“This is even worse.” She pulls her fingers from mine and covers her mouth with both hands, pulling in a deep breath. “It’s even worse than with Thyne.”

“What’s worse?”

She swallows and shakes her head, sending fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter. It’s too late.”

“But I can stay with you?” I ask, needing reassurance to quiet the panic inside.