Page 152 of A Cursed Son


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“You don’t have to. You could just…” I extend my hand, as if a relic could just land on it.

“Sort of. True.” He chuckles, then looks down and takes a deep breath. “But this, it can cut through magic.” Cut? I’m trying to understand what he means, when he adds, “Undo deals.” His voice is heavy, solemn.

“Like what?”

“Deals can be quite complex, wife, and involve many stipulations. For instance, if the deal is important enough, quite often the parties are not allowed to mention it to anyone. Sometimes you can’t even talk about the circumstances involving the deal.”

“So you can’t tell me.”

“I didn’t say that.”

But he sort of did, except that I think he can’t mention it.

He puts the dagger in my hands and shows me the encrusted crystals. “These are Tiurian stones.” I’m surprised, and he notices and nods. “Yes. You’d call them beacon stones, I think, but they’re more like opus stones. Without them, this is just a dagger. A stunning dagger, for sure, but it won’t cut through magic. I need to either find a way to activate these stones, or find the original ones.”

So he’s trying to undo whatever deal he made, a deal that relates to what happened years ago, when his family died. It means he has been looking for beacon stones or some kind of magical solution to activate the stones he has. Beacon stones. A thought hits me.

“Was that why you attacked my carriage? Were you after that beacon stone?”

He sighs. “Put yourself in my shoes for a moment. You have these random visions of this Krastelian girl, and you don’t understand why. One day, out of the blue, you see her in a carriage, staring at a chalice with a beacon stone, close to the Fae Shortcut. I mean, I thought it was a sign.”

“I was right that you wanted the cup, then.”

His brows rise. “You were. But that beacon stone could be a pebble for all the power it had.”

“Then you thought maybe I’d have the secret for you to find your stones.”

“I just wanted to understand why I kept seeing you in my mind. I thought… I don’t know what I thought. I guess maybe yes, you could lead me to a stone, or maybe there was something else. I didn’t know.”

I take the dagger and look at it. “Was that really what you wanted? The explanation as to why you kept seeing me?” I turn to him, even though I feel heat rising to my face. “Did it ever cross your mind that you saw the explanation?”

“It was easier to believe you were manipulating me.”

“So you decided to come and marry me? Like wow, I think she’s manipulating me. Let me step into her trap.” I set the dagger between us.

He chuckles. “I was proactive. Trap you before I’m trapped.”

“You think someone’s controlling me?”

He fiddles with his rings as he looks at me. “You are—or were—loyal to your kingdom. Grew up in a sheltered environment, hearing only what they told you. I mean…” He shrugs. “And I saw you in some of your training. They teach you to seduce.”

“Try to teach me. I’m not good at it.”

“I’ll have to disagree with you, Astra.”

I can’t suppress my laughter. “Oh, yes, I’m incredible.”

“You are. And yet you’re still your king’s tool for… I don’t even know for what, to be very honest.”

“I’m nobody’s tool. And I think the goal with the substitutes is an alliance, something that would improve my master’s social position, while at the same time protecting the princess. It’s dishonest and deceiving, but… You make it sound more insidious than it is.” He’s staring at me, and I realize he might think I’m defending Master Otavio, so I add, “Not that what they’re doing is right. But either way, you’re not part of it. My master wanted to help me escape and commit treason rather than marry you, so he can’t have been plotting to trap you. And the dreams weren’t my fault. You heard the Nameless.”

He’s thoughtful, stroking his chin. “I did.” He looks at me. “And I still wish you had been more honest with me from the start.”

“We’ve gone over this, husband. And I’m being honest now. I’m just what you see. An orphan raised in Krastel. And you’re right. I was raised to be used as a tool.” The words rasp against my throat, an ugly truth I avoided facing for so many years. “But I was also taken care of: fed, clothed, protected. I love my sisters, and they’re my sisters, even if not by blood.”

“True.”

“I don’t love my masters, but I… have some respect for them. Still, I have my own mind.”

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