Golden Curse by M. Lynn

Author:M. Lynn [Lynn, M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-10-01T23:00:00+00:00

The chapel hummed with anticipation. It hadn't been decorated and the only guests in attendance were the king's advisers, family, and guards. A priest stood at the altar, waiting. This was not a celebration. This coronation wasn’t supposed to take place for another ten or twenty years. When a king reached his later years, he planned a coronation for his son as a lavish affair with feasts and tournaments. Now they were hidden away.

Etta stood as the prince walked down the narrow aisle. He wore a perfectly pressed jacket and trousers. A Durand family crest—three intertwining trees with a sword through the middle—was emblazoned on the jacket's arm. Ironic considering Etta's power.

His hair was neatly tied back and shining, and his eyes held a strength she hadn't yet seen. He looked like a king. Etta held her breath until he reached the front and knelt.

She released it in one long puff of air as that invisible thread binding her to Alex tightened. She barely heard anything the priest said and before she knew it, a crown was placed on Alexandre's head and her name was being called.

Her feet moved of their own accord until she was by the new king's side. He'd risen and now watched her expectantly. Her knees bent and hit the stone hard but the pain barely registered. This moment was what her entire life had been about. For she was Persinette Basile, and she was cursed. Her life was not her own. It belonged to the man who now stood in front of her with a golden crown atop his head.

The curse tugged at her, begging to break free. It wanted this. It wanted her pledge, her promise. Magic was a living thing and La Dame's magic lived inside her, tying her to Alex. She looked up at him. Her childhood friend. Her captor. Her enemy. Her king. He was everything and nothing. Important and inconsequential. One day, when her story was told to a future cursed generation, they'd learn of the enemy who was no enemy. The conflicted one. The good one. Everyone told her he was a good man, and now she saw it. His eyes told the full tale.

He smiled in reassurance. Comfort.

She'd been fighting against the hate clawing at her heart, and now she'd won.

So, she lowered her head and touched her forehead to the ground in the greatest sign of respect. She'd killed to be here. Her soul was in tatters. But maybe something good would come from the darkness.

Alex cleared his throat. "I am here to honor my father's last wish. The winner of his tournament is to serve by my side. Etta."

She raised her head to look at him.

"Do you vow to protect the king, to remain at his side, to be a loyal and trustworthy steward of Gaule?"

"I do," she said.

"Do you promise to be honorable and honest."

"Yes."

"Are you prepared to do what is necessary?"

"I am."

"Then rise, Etta, and stand at my side." He extended a hand down to her.

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