Page 6 of Breaking Briar

With trembling hands, the queen reaches out for her daughter, and with great reluctance, I give her over. Unfortunately, the moment she feels her mother’s arms, she cries again, an ear-splitting wail that makes me wince. Unsure of what to do, she hands her back, frowning as Briar calms down once more.

Turning to King Kendrick, she buries her head into his shoulder, sobbing as we all contemplate the fate of this little baby. Tears threaten to slip down my cheeks, but I hold them in check, refusing to allow them to fall. Somehow, I will make this right.

Next to me, the violet fairy clears her throat and steps forward. “I have not yet given the child my blessing.”

With a gasp, the queen turns and clasps her hands. “Oh, good witch,” she cries out. “Can you undo the curse? Will my daughter yet live?”

I watch the witch’s face, my heart thundering in my ears. This could be just the blessing we need. Thankfully, she hadn’t squandered it on some such nonsense like hair that never tangles or breath that never smells.

“Unfortunately, I cannot. A curse like that is binding. However, I can help mitigate it.”

She steps closer to me, and on instinct, I curl Briar in tighter, resisting the urge to snarl as she gets far too close for my comfort. With an indulgent smile, she stays where she is and swirls her wand.

“On her eighteenth birthday, she will, in fact, prick her finger on a spindle. However, she will not die. She will, instead, drift off into a dark, dreamless sleep so close to death that the evil witch will not know the difference. Only true love’s kiss will awaken her.”

“That’s simple then,” King Kendrick cries, clapping his hand on my shoulder. “All spinning wheels will be banned, and Philip here will celebrate his wedding by waking her up if some mischief somehow befalls her.”

“Yes,” the good witch murmurs, refusing to meet my eyes. “If there is true love there, he will wake her.”

CHAPTER 3

PHILIP

18 YEARS OLD

Sweat pours down my back, itching as the salt laps at the surface wounds in my skin. In front of me, Master Balcom thrusts his practice sword forward, nearly slicing my side open if it was sharp enough. I have to get my head into the game.

But with this unannounced visit from Kendrick and his family, it’s hard for me to think about little else. These grand visits and massive overtures are only for show. I’m sure of it. He’s trying to ensnare my people and make them sympathetic and loyal to him. Granted, that’s what my mind tells me.

In all honesty, it’s probably nothing more than keeping a good rapport between the two of us. We are allies, after all. And if we’re not visiting them, they’re visiting us. On the surface, it seems normal, desired even.

My mother lights up every time we make a trip, or when they come to see us. No doubt she’s lonely in the castle with no other women of power to converse with. At least Queen Kendrick provides her comfort and amusement.

Glancing up at the castle, I note a bit of movement, a blur as someone darts in and out of the various windows, hoping to get a glance of this match. A smirk tilts my lips as little Briar attempts to pull herself up so she can see past the railing. She’s still so small, so vulnerable.

The only reason I’m not more worried about her actions is because of the gifts from the witches. No amount of clumsy antics will cause her harm. Still though, knowing she watches me, her sharp brown eyes missing nothing, it makes losing feel all the worse.

They are only here for a week, and it feels like a colossal waste of time to be out here practicing when I could be trying to forge a deeper connection between us. Honestly, that would make more sense, seeing as it’s one of the reasons we both keep traveling back and forth.

Taking in a deep breath, I parry his strikes, smiling as I drive him back. Only the moment I get a little too cocky, he drives in harder, nearly sending me down to the ground. Briar’s light laugh should irritate me, but I find her effervescence to have a far more calming effect on my mind and spirit.

If it were anyone but her…

“Keep showing off like that, and it will end you,” Master Balcom hisses.

We circle again, but my heart is no longer in this match. Daily, he drills me and works with me, but I can’t find it in me to fight. All I want to do is study up on history and other books to make me a better king or get to know my intended a little better.

With another sigh, I glance back up, watching as her long brown hair drifts in the breeze. She will certainly make a great queen, and I aim to be worthy of her. Despite what I feel for Father or Kendrick, something deep inside feels as if she’s something different than both of them, something better.

“Head in the game, prince,” he barks out again, lunging forward.

I only manage to escape the tip of his sword by leaping backward and rolling away. It’s not as if my head doesn’t want to be here. Try as I might, it feels as if I just cannot concentrate no matter what I do.

A gust of wind could stir the tree wrong, and I would zero in on the movements. A soft laugh could pull me away from any task and draw my attention there. Hell, things smell different, feel different, and just… are… different.

Unfortunately, it’s become harder as the days approach my birthday. Everything feels too much and nothing all at the same time. Nothing seems to make sense. I cannot think, cannot breathe, cannot sleep, and cannot eat.

Thankfully, I can still spar. It’s the only thing to get the bubbling rage out of my system. With a roar, I lunge forward, my vision blurring as I bring the tip in line with Master Balcom’s gut. As if I were nothing more than a buzzing insect, he smacks the blade away, coming in for a shot of his own.