Page 64 of A Curse of Breath and Blood

“I’m sure it was riveting and not dribble at all.”

Baylis ignored my vitriol.“He said something about two little birds. One high on a mountain. The other, lost in shadow. He said both would be broken. I wonder what that could mean.”She bit her lip, pondering the ravings of a madman.

“I don’t know how you do it, Baylis.”

“Do what?”she asked, as if awakening from a trance.

“Visit him every day.”

Baylis pondered my question for a moment.“I don’t want him to be alone. It must be scary wherever he is. I want him to know we still love him. At least, that’s what I’d want my family to do for me. I guess a part of me still thinks if I love him enough, he’ll find his way back to us.”

A sob rose in my throat at the memory of my sister.

I took the opposite approach, opting to act as though my father and his demons did not exist. His lucid days were the worst. For a moment in time, we glimpsed the father we knew, only to watch him fade into nothingness.

I wanted to reach out and grasp him. To keep him here, in the present, with us, but there was nothing to grab, like a light dimming through the night until you were left in utter blackness.

For years, I prayed to Ammena to heal him. I bargained, smashed things, and finally accepted he was gone. He was forty-five when they lowered his body into the unforgiving earth, but he had been dead long before that. The maggots could ravage his corpse for all I cared. I would not shed another tear for him.

Melancholy wrapped itself around me like a warm blanket. With my emotions depleted, I had nothing left to give anyone. I slept for weeks, only rising so the sheets could be changed.

A succubus in human form, Gideon fed off my pain, absorbing it like soil absorbs the rain.

A willing victim, I confided all my deepest fears in him. Little did I realize he would manipulate those fears to his advantage, unraveling my emotions until I was held together by threads. He cut the remaining strings one by one until I became the puppet he desired.

I died in Ryft’s Edge. Only my corpse continues, fueled by hate and the lust for revenge.

25AELIA

Ernie’sdeep voice echoed through the quiet townhome, “She is in the parlor. I will escort you.”

My heart jumped at the thought of Tharan standing in the doorway.I quickly fixed my hair, straightened my simple smock dress, and neatly placed my tea next to the book I was reading.

Ernie approached, bowing his head. “Lady Aelia, there are some messengers here for you.”

I cleared my throat. “Let them in.”

Three Woodland Realm soldiers entered the parlor. Their armor of golden leaves laid atop one another to form a chain mail. Their helmets crowned with cascading ferns resembled a living crown camouflaging them amidst the lush foliage. Thin vines adorned with tiny blossoms crisscrossed their armor, providing additional protection and a touch of natural elegance. The soldiers moved with quiet grace, their leafy attire rustling softly, a symphony harmonizing with the whispers of the wind through ancient trees. Elegant, long swords fell at their sides.

My mouth fell open as the middle soldier kneeled before me, extending a velvet pillow on which an invitation sat.

I picked up the letter, breaking the green wax seal of theAlder King with my nail. My eyes flitted to the doorway, where Caiden, Lucius, and Amolie stood, jaws gaping at the three soldiers.

The letter read:

To the Traitorous Queen Aelia,

You are cordially invited to the Alder King’s Yule Revelry, which begins on the night of Winter Solstice and lasts through the new year. Your companions are welcome to attend as well.

Your Friend,

The Lord of Nothing.

“Thank you,” I said, trying to steady my voice.

The soldiers bowed and then left.

Lucius, Caiden, and Amolie came rushing into the room. I held up the invitation for Caiden to inspect.

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