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The Queen’s curse trembles under my skin, unspooling Dalca’s heart for me so I may read what is written upon it.
He’s being pulled apart by fears. He’s terrified of being the weak link in the Illusora chain, of failing the city and his people, of being a poor leader. He’s terrified of what it means to be Regia, what it means to give up your soul. There’s only one way out: if he saves his mother,if he gives her the power to be a great Regia, then he’ll save his city and never see himself enslaved in his own body. I can almost taste the way the Storm stokes his fears, the way something dark grows in his heart.
I reach for him, the grown Dalca, the Dalca I know, and grab his neck so he looks at me, not the serpent, not the child, not the darkness surrounding us.
“Vesper,” he breathes.
His skin is hot, and he smells of blood and smoke and sweat. “I know you have to do this. I know you’ll ask to save your mother. But please, Dalca. Be careful what you give up. Don’t give up your heart.” My voice is heavy with unshed tears for Ma, for Izamal. Dalca’s not my north star. He doesn’t give my life meaning. But I won’t lose him.
A dark, sweet expression appears on his face; his eyes soften, but his lips gain a dismissive twist. I brush my thumb across his cheek. He has to hear me.
Dalca presses his forehead against mine. My cheeks grow warm with the heat radiating from him. “What’s my heart worth?”
I press my lips to his.
If he can’t do it on his own, that’s okay. I have enough willpower for the both of us. Let him take what he needs from me. I’ll give him the courage to face himself. I’ll give him the strength to peel back the claws the Storm has wrapped around his heart.
Dalca pulls back. “Okay,” he whispers against my lips. “I’ll save it.”
Enough, girl.
The serpent strikes, fangs out, and we jump apart. She pushes between us, widening the gap with the bulk of her body. I hold Dalca’s gaze as she slithers around me, wrapping me in coils of milk-pale scales and dragging me off the platform, setting me down in the dark.
The serpent slithers forward, separating me and him.
Dalca stands alone atop the platform. The child clambers out of the coffin and reaches for his hand.
“Vesper?”
“I’m not hurt.”
The serpent tastes the air with her forked tongue.Why have you come here, hollow prince?
“I came to save my city.” His voice is loud and clear.
But under it, the child whispers,“I’m scared. I want my mother back. I don’t want to be Regia.”
Dalca jerks away from the child. “No—that’s not true. That’s not what I’m asking for.”
The child’s whispers go on in an endless stream of fears.“I don’t want to be alone. I can’t fail. I have to be perfect. I have to be the best Wardana. I have to be the best heir. I have to be Regia. I’m scared. I want somebody to love me. I don’t want to be Reg—”
“STOP!” Fury rolls off Dalca in waves. “That’s not me.”
The serpent laughs, and her tail slinks around the boy, raising him into the air.
The child’s little arms grip the serpent’s scales, but he’s too brave to cry out. With wide blue eyes, he meets Dalca’s gaze.
Dalca looks away first.
A dull horror expands in my chest. “No! Dalca—”
The serpent throws the boy in the air and unhitches her jaw, opening wide. She swallows child-Dalca whole and snaps her mouth shut. A lump slides down her throat.
I clap a hand over my mouth as dread makes my stomach sink. Oh, no, no. Oh, Dalca.
The serpent hisses.You wish to save your city.
“Yes,” Dalca says.
