Home > Books > Malice (Malice Duology, #1)(111)

Malice (Malice Duology, #1)(111)

Author:Heather Walter

“Aurora, I…”

“The gold,” she breathes. “The gold I saw you with. It was so much. I thought perhaps that’s what every Grace earns, but…but it was from my father. Wasn’t it?” She is too still. Her skin too pale. I reach for her, but she bats me away. “You lied to me.”

Tarkin claps slowly and I recoil as though I’ve been struck. “I knew you were clever. Yes, Aurora. Now you see.” Sunlight dances on the jewels in his crown. “Let me show you exactly what the Dark Grace has been doing. Boy!” One of the servants scuttles over. “Fetch our subjects from Master Gray.”

Subjects? My insides curl.

An eternity passes after the gangly servant disappears through a side door. Tarkin strolls from one end of the room to the other, almost jovial. Aurora will not look at me.

Finally, there’s a distant shuffle and clanking. The door opens again and three Graces are led before us. Dragon’s teeth. They look exactly as Narcisse had. Ripped and dirtied clothing hang off their half-starved frames. Rough iron chains leave raw marks and scabbed blisters on their wrists and ankles. Their eyes are sunken and dull. Some of them are even sporting silver streaks in their matted hair.

Nausea rolls through me and I have to clench my teeth to keep from retching. What has the king done?

“Alyce has been helping me with an experiment,” the king continues, circling his prisoners with a kind of sick approval.

He’s lying. I never—but then the pieces of this awful game begin to click into place.

“That isn’t possible,” Aurora whispers. “She wouldn’t do this.”

“Really?” The king moves to the first Grace and trails one finger back and forth in front of her gaze. But the emaciated creature only stares ahead, eyes vacant and cloudy.

“As it turns out, our Dark Grace is far more talented than we first believed. She’s been cursing items for me using her Vila blood. Like this ring.” Tarkin lifts the Grace’s hand. A golden ring glints on her first finger. “It causes blindness.”

The ring I cursed for the king. Endlewild said it had been used on a nobleman, but I never thought—

“Alyce?” The distance between Aurora and me feels like an ocean. “Is that what you did?”

My tongue peels itself from the roof of my mouth. I cannot deny it. “I—yes. But it wasn’t— I didn’t mean to—”

There’s nothing I can say. I knew the king would use the items I cursed. I convinced myself that it wasn’t my fault who got hurt. But I thought he was lashing out against courtiers. Against those who deserved it. But seeing these Graces—broken and spent—it is my fault. Utterly and completely.

“You understand what she is now,” Tarkin says. “Self-serving and vindictive. I suppose the substantial gold I supplied to commission these items wasn’t enough for her. The Dark Grace wants the realm for herself. And so she used that Vila magic to trick you into falling in love so she could usurp your throne.”

“No.” Aurora backs away, merciful certainty returning to her voice. “She wanted me to rule. She was helping me break the curse. We…we tried everything.”

“And yet nothing worked. Except this convenient kiss?” Tarkin tilts his head at me. “I wonder, was she trying to help you, or merely pretending? Tell me, Aurora. Did the Dark Grace truly do everything in her power to free you from your burden?”

I feel the threads of this situation slipping out of my control, but I can’t grasp them.

Aurora doesn’t answer, but I can see her stitching together bits of memory. Each time I refused to use my blood for a healing potion or a ritual. Refused because I didn’t want to hurt her. Because I was afraid of the ancient Vila summoned by my blood. But it must look like I was biding my time. Waiting for just the right moment.

“Aurora, please.” But her lips are slack. Her arms wrapped around her middle, as if she’s holding herself together.

“Were you using me, Alyce? While you were—” She looks to the battered Graces then back to me, utterly repulsed.

“No, Aurora, I—”

Her next words slice me to pieces. “Who are you?”

“Don’t worry, my dear.” Tarkin snatches up the reins. “You won’t have to be troubled with her any longer. You will marry Prince Elias. As of yet, the court knows nothing. We will tell them the prince broke the curse with another kiss later in the evening. They will believe it.”