The King's Cursed Bride

Living a Nightmare

Aleck hadn't returned.

Carissa had awoken that evening alone and stared at the door, waiting for it to open, waiting for him to return.

Finally, an hour before her shift began, the hinges eked out a muted squeak. Her heart trilled, only to fall limp within her chest as she spotted Elisa.

Elisa tucked a curtain of dark brown hair behind her ear and smiled. "Akasha has called a meeting in one of the work rooms."

Did she have strength to rise? Did she want to? Her gaze drifted to the window, where Aleck had been moments ago—or so it seemed.

"Come now, Carissa. I know you're tired." Elisa slipped into the room. She clasped Carissa's forearm, and Carissa jerked back with a sharp hiss.

Elisa blinked, then edged up Carissa's sleeve. Her lips pursed tight like a yanked drawstring. "Oh. I'm sorry."

Carissa glanced up, forgiveness on the tip of her tongue, but halted. Her eyes were the purest gold—like the sun had unwoven itself and her eyes were whirlpools of the molten celestial thread.

Elisa. Golden eyes.

This was who Viltus had spoken of. How had she not realized this before? She ground her palm against her forehead. Her exhaustion was deadening her senses. If this had gotten by her so easily, perhaps the Reaper himself had been lurking right beneath her nose.

"Carissa, Akasha wants—"

"I know."

Elisa drew back at her sharp tone. "What ails you?"

Everything. "Nothing."

Elisa's unearthly luminous eyes scanned the room. "Where's that little boy?"

"Gone." Forever. Regret lumped in her throat.

"I'm sorry." Her hand cupped Carissa's shoulder—as Carissa had done to Aleck. "But you must come to the meeting. If you don't come, I might be punished—or even another nightwoman. And nightwomen care for one another, yes?"

"What would you know of loyalty?"

Elisa flinched, and Carissa nearly regretted her words. But this was a cruel world. If Elisa couldn't take the truth, bitter though it may be, she wouldn't survive long. "You know of Viltus."

It was said like a statement, but Carissa nodded nonetheless.

"Then I'll make you a trade. If you come with me to the workroom, I will tell you a story."

Carissa hesitated before nodding.

Elisa slid an arm around her, and Carissa arched her back away from her touch. Elisa frowned. "Your back—it's injured?"

She nodded.

"By the King's Amulet. You have many injuries. I'm afraid I didn't notice how numerous they were when I took you from Akar's room." Elisa flitted out of the room and returned with a walking stick. "When one nightwoman was beaten, her leg broke, and she had to use this. She said you could use it."

Carissa fitted the walking stick beneath her palm and staggered forward.

Elisa held the door open for her, and then they walked side by side. "Once there was a kind, handsome man named Viltus. He was rough around the edges, but he had a good heart. He bought a nightwoman from her slavery for an enormous price. The nightwoman was overjoyed." A smile flickered across her lips. "Finally, a fairytale ending like she'd always dreamt of.