Chapter 42

Ruby

I shut the door to Atwood’s study as quietly and calmly as possible before taking off down the corridor at a breakneck speed. Now, more than ever, I want nothing more than to run away and never come back to this godforsaken castle.

But, as I lock myself in my room and pull out my phone to call Cayden, I stop.

It’s not time yet. I can’t just run off with no plans, no money, and without warning Tamara that we’ll be running away -- because I’m certainly not leaving her.

If I was able to fool my way out of the castle once, I can do it again, especially now that I know the surrounding area better and won’t be escaping in a heavy wedding gown. The main issue is money…

Cayden, Tamara and I will have to get far away from here if we’re going to pull this off, otherwise Atwood will certainly find us and drag me back to the castle. We’re going to need to purchase train tickets to get away, but I don’t have a cent to my name and Cayden certainly doesn’t have enough money for the three of us.

But… How?

I could try to sell some of the clothes that Atwood bought me, like the homecoming dress, but that would be too obvious. It would have to be something small. Something that no one will notice if it goes missing.

Before I have the chance to think further, someone unlocks my door and barges in.

It’s Alice.

“The Queen wishes to speak with you immediately,” she growls, storming toward me and reaching out her knobby old hand to grab me. I dart away to the other side of the room.

“What, so you can punish me? I’ve already been expelled. I haven’t got anything else for you to take from me.”

Alice simply smirks.

“You have something else that could easily be taken from you. Something precious. Now come, mutt.”

She doesn’t mean Tamara, does she?

“What have you done with my sister?”

Alice doesn’t answer. Instead, she lunges for me again, this time with far more speed and strength than I would expect from a woman her age, and yanks me from the room.

I don’t bother screaming for help as Alice whisks me toward the Queen’s chambers, because I know that no one will come for me at this point. Even Atwood likely wouldn’t bother coming if he heard my screams.

Alice drags me down the corridor to the Queen’s chambers and opens the large wooden door, shoving me inside with such force that I stumble and nearly fall.

The Queen is sitting at her dining table when I enter. On the table sits a silver tea set, the pot still steaming through its spout with fresh tea. Tamara sits beside her.

I rush over to Tamara and grab her by both shoulders, looking her over.

“Are you alright? Did they hurt you?” I ask.

“Um… No,” Tamara says, a confused expression on her face. “They just invited me for tea.”

I look over at the Queen, who is sitting quietly and sipping her tea. She stares at me over her cup with a raised eyebrow. “Sit,” she says, gesturing with her free hand to the empty chair on her other side. “I think it’s time we had a chat.”

With painstaking hesitancy, I sit on the edge of the chair, never once removing my gaze from the Queen. I keep Alice in my peripherals just in case she does something, but she simply stands patiently by the closed door.

The Queen slowly sets down her teacup on its saucer and picks up the tea pot, filling a new cup and setting it down in front of me. I look over at Tamara, who is happily swinging her legs in her chair and munching on a biscuit. This whole scenario feels like a trap.

“Do you have any idea why I’ve brought you here?” the Queen asks as she plops a scoop of sugar into her tea and stirs.

“Um… no,” I answer. “At least, not if it’s not about what happened at school.”

“What you did to my cousin’s daughter was pathetic and disgusting,” she says, “but expulsion is a satisfactory punishment. I’ve called you here to discuss… something else.”

“Is this about the curse?” I ask, my mind flickering back to the night I broke into Luna’s room and read her diary.

The Queen nods. I can see a faint smirk twitch at the corners of her mouth for a second, but then it’s gone. She stands now, pacing to the window with her hands clasped behind her back.

“As I’m sure you discovered when you so insolently broke into her room the other night, Luna -- Vivian -- was my dear son’s first chance mate,” she says as she looks solemnly out the window. “She was a lovely girl. Poised, charming, beautiful -- well, you saw her portrait, so I’m sure you know. We couldn’t have been more pleased for her to be this kingdom’s Luna.”

“Was Vivian her real name?” I ask, thinking back to the name I saw in the journal.

“Yes,” the Queen replies, still looking out the window. “Royal families always refer to the king’s mate as ‘Luna’. It’s a ceremonial name. A sign of respect.”

That makes more sense. I wonder if I’ll ever be referred to as ‘Luna’, or if I don’t deserve that level of respect.

The Queen turns back to me. Her eyes briefly flicker disgustedly over to Tamara, who is reaching for another biscuit, then back to me.

“You see, Vivian and Atwood were perfect for one another. High school sweethearts. She was from a well to-do family, a pure bloodline. Together, they made the ideal King and future Queen. But… Shortly after the wedding, Vivian fell ill. It was terrible, really.” She walks over to the dresser, straightening a picture frame.

“The curse set in,” I say.

The Queen turns back to me with a smile on her face. “Yes!” she says. “Suddenly, out of nowhere, Vivian’s body began to deteriorate. She lost her wolf abilities, lost the ability to shift, lost her strength and eventually lost touch with her wolf altogether. My darling Atwood was devastated. No doctor could figure out what had happened to her. She was a medical enigma.”

There’s a long pause. I furrow my brows, looking down at the steaming cup of tea in front of me.

“She… killed herself,” I say quietly.

The Queen walks back to the table and sits down, stirring her tea again with a grim expression on her face. Tamara stares across the table at me with a concerned look.

“After she died, Atwood was beside himself,” the Queen says. “For ninety days, he was stuck in his wolf form, unable to shift back. Why, by the time he returned to his human form, it was as though he had forgotten how to be anything but a wolf. It was dreadful.”

She dabs at her eyes with a handkerchief before continuing.

“During those ninety days, I’ll admit I broke the kingdom’s rules and I… I went to a witch. I had to know why my son was suffering so, why his one true love had fallen so gravely ill that she had felt the need to end her own life.”

“Did… Did the witch curse him?” I ask.

The Queen vehemently shakes her head. “No, no,” she says. “It wasn’t her. It was someone else. Someone much older, and more powerful, had cursed our bloodline when Atwood was born. Cursed my son with a life of loneliness.”

“What does that mean?” I ask, standing so suddenly from my chair that I knock into the table, sending tea sloshing out of our cups.

The Queen reaches out to me and takes my hand in hers. Her hand is cold and dry.

“I’m afraid that the same fate will befall you if you mark my son.”