Nyfain’s fingers entwined tightly with mine as rage simmered within me at the mention of his other life.
“I’d wondered if they’d…done something. Killed you, maybe, but they didn’t seem to recognize me, either,” she said. “It was like the whole history of the kingdom had been wiped from their minds. I know much about faerie magic, and I could tell they hadn’t been bamboozled by their own magic. The only other creatures with magic powerful enough to wreak such a change were the demons. It was then that the reality of the situation started to dawn on me. I knew there must have been a dark trade of some kind. A curse.”
“You did not suspect that Father would call me home?” Nyfain asked guardedly.
She took a deep, steadying breath and locked eyes with him. It looked as though it took a lot of effort. “Yes, I did suspect the mad king would come up with a lie to cover my disappearance. He did it often with his subjects, staff, court, and army. Saying I’d actually died was of course the easiest excuse for my absence, and he must have known my funeral would be the easiest way to bring you home.”
Heavy silence crowded the air, and I held Nyfain’s hand tightly. We all knew the words that were coming next—it just took her a few moments to summon the courage to speak them.
“When I realized how long it had taken me to heal, I figured you’d probably gotten—and answered—his summons by then. I suspected you were in Wyvern. At that point… At that point, I should’ve followed you to Wyvern. I should’ve joined you there to spare you the pain of my death. That would’ve been the courageous thing. But I couldn’t bear to return to him.” Her body shook with sobs. “So I told myself that I would visit you once you returned home, because I knew you wouldn’t stay in Wyvern. I decided I’d go to you and beg forgiveness for the grief I’d caused you. I figured you could work yourself around to accepting that. But then the faeries didn’t know you, and so I went to find out why. I could never have imagined the fate I’d forced upon you with my cowardice.”
I barely stifled the deep breath I needed to let out. Turbulent emotions rolled through the bond.
“Did my father have dealings with the demons in the past?” Nyfain asked. “Is that really why you made the connection to demon magic?”
She looked like a cornered rabbit cowering at the feet of a wolf. But she answered. “He’d dealt with them in the past, yes. Not to such a large extent, but…” She held up her palms. “He threatened to harm you if I told you of those dealings. I only knew because I’d stumbled into a meeting. He’d meant to keep those secrets from me, from everyone.”
Nyfain looked away from her, his jaw set, his eyes landing on our entwined fingers. So many emotions rolled through the bond that I couldn’t pick any out.
“The curse affecting you…” He didn’t look back up at her. Gravel lined each syllable. “Did you have some hand in its creation? Is that why it froze your aging?”
She swallowed and shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. “No. I swear to you. I couldn’t come home, either. After my trip to the faerie kingdom, I hired a shipmaster, who thought I was crazy, and forced him to follow the old maps. The demons can erase memories, but they can’t erase the lines on a map. But magic blocked me out. I was locked outside. I have no idea why the magic in the court impacted Delaney and me. I didn’t even realize I’d stopped aging for many years, and until I met Finley, I didn’t fully understand why. I didn’t know the details of the curse, or even if it was specifically a curse, only that the magic was affecting me.”
She swallowed and dabbed at her cheeks.
“I failed you. I damned you to…to this. But I did not have an active hand in that curse. Please believe that. My only goal was to break free. And then, after I healed, to get to you. My motives were simple, please…” A sob ripped free. “Please believe that.”
Nyfain was squeezing my hand so hard it hurt. He let out a breath, bending forward.
“It’s as much my fault as yours,” he said softly. “I left you here. I left the kingdom. I knew what I was leaving you to—them to—and I still walked away. You weren’t strong enough to dominate him, but I was.”
“His army would’ve killed you,” she replied, her struggle to straighten up plain. Her eyes were rimmed red. “He would’ve had them kill you.”
“He wouldn’t have killed his heir.”
“You are only his heir in name. You aren’t his heir by blood.”