All for a Rose (29 page)

A betrayal. Is that what it would be to love him now?
Maribel closed her eyes. Was that why she’d brought Corrine here? Why she’d ignored her better sense, ignored the voice inside her head that had told her in no uncertain terms that she’d be insane to bring her sister into the home of the man she’d cursed? Had she needed Daman to prove that he could forgive Corrine, that the two could coexist, before she gave her heart to the half-monster who’d won her without even trying?

Ha. Who am I kidding? He won me trying not to.

“Corrine, what happened? For a while it seemed…”
It seemed like I could have everyone I love in my life.
“It seemed like you two could get along.”

Corrine pulled back and wiped at her eyes. “Oh, Maribel, he’s never going to forgive me. He thinks I’m evil and nothing I say will change that.”

Maribel pressed her lips together. Every word out of her sister’s mouth showed Daman in a worse and worse light, but there had to be
something
that had tipped the scales. Daman had allowed Corrine into his home, had claimed he was willing to give her a chance. For a moment back there—

What? For a moment you thought it wasn’t going to matter? Like he was going to throw up his hands and say he didn’t care about the curse anymore as long as he could be with you?

The voice in her head was mocking, derisive. Maribel shut it out, clenching her teeth as she fought to concentrate. Something must have happened to destroy that careful balance between Daman and Corrine, and if she could understand what that thing had been, then maybe… “What. Happened?” she asked again.

Corrine’s eyes flicked over Maribel’s face for a moment—an assessment. “I told him it wasn’t my spell. It was Jeanne’s, a goblin girl who used to live with Mother Briar. I don’t know how to break the spell, so I need Jeanne’s help.” Her lower lip trembled. “Daman doesn’t believe me. He thinks Mother Briar told me to say that so I could get him to tell me where Jeanne is.”

“Jeanne is a changeling?” The word tasted strange in Maribel’s mouth. It was a word that could apparently be applied to her.
My father is not my father. Corrine is not my sister. My mother…
She shoved those thoughts away, locked them behind a solid door in her mind and chained it closed, throwing away the key. She wasn’t ready to think about that. She didn’t know if she’d ever be able to think about that.

“Yes. Daman stole her away from Mother Briar.”

“Against her will?”

Corrine shrugged. “I don’t know. Daman claims that Mother Briar was mistreating Jeanne, but…” She shoved a hand through her hair. “It doesn’t matter. Without Jeanne’s help, I can’t lift the spell.” The chain holding the amulet around her neck clinked as she fingered the crystal. “I told him that and he got angry. So angry…”

“He has trouble controlling his temper.” Maribel rubbed her hand over her lap, trying to warm her hands that suddenly felt as though she’d bathed them in ice water. “It’s part of the curse.”

Corrine stiffened. For a moment, Maribel would have sworn she was angry, her chest filling with a sharp inhale as if preparing to shout. Then Corrine sagged against her.

“You’re mad at me too. You still want him.”

Maribel gently extricated herself from Corrine, but kept a hold of her hands. It was true, she did care for Daman. She wasn’t ready to write him off yet, not without hearing his side of the story. But Corrine was her sister— in every way that mattered. Even if she wasn’t blood… Maribel pressed her fingers to her temples, trying to calm the burgeoning headache forming there.

“Your curse has inadvertently given me more than I could have ever hoped for.”

The memory of those words mocked her now, taunting her with a happiness that seemed like a poor joke. Had he meant those words when he’d said them? If he had, what on earth could have pushed him to the edge so quickly?

Corrine laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. “I came back thinking I was going to rescue you, and here you don’t want to leave.”

“Corrine—”

“No.” Corrine stood up, brushing off her skirts, obviously avoiding eye contact. “No, you’re happier here.” She snorted. “I can’t blame you. It must be nice to live in such luxury, especially after the hard life you had on the farm.”

“Actually, I do the same work here that I did at home.” Maribel stiffened, her tone sharpening in self-defense. “I still cook, and I still work outside in the garden.” She didn’t mention anything about how much easier it was here, now that she could work without interruptions, or about how Daman was always very appreciative and interested in her cooking.

Corrine opened her mouth then closed it again. Her brown eyes twitched from side to side, scanning Maribel’s face. She tilted her head, looked Maribel up and down. There was a question in that gaze that needed an answer. Maribel shifted uncomfortably, feeling like livestock up for auction under that level of scrutiny. Finally Corrine rubbed the bridge of her nose.

“I want to help him, Maribel. But if I’m going to break that spell, you need to convince him to tell me where Jeanne is. I’ll go to her myself and ask for the counterspell. Maybe he’ll trust you enough to tell you.”

Maribel’s spirit rose and she leaned closer to Corrine. “You would still help him?”

“Of course I would.” Corrine offered her a half smile. “I’m really not all bad.”

“Oh, Corrine.” Maribel drew her into a hug, holding her tight for a moment as gentle waves of guilt lapped against her. “I know you’re not bad.”

“How?”

Corrine’s voice was small, muffled against Maribel’s shoulder. The vulnerability in that voice stabbed at Maribel and she tightened her hold.

“Because you’re my sister. Because you’re terrified of going anywhere by yourself, or exerting yourself, but you did both because you were worried about me. Because you can see feelings in me that I’ve only barely acknowledged, and you’re trying to help me to be happy even if…”

Even if the man I care for hates you, tried to hurt you. Even if being with him means I’ll be leaving you behind.

At some point the hug changed, became more about Corrine comforting her than the reverse.

“I love you, Maribel.”

“I love you too.”

They stayed like that for a long minute, locked together, each one offering comfort and receiving it in return. It was a reflection of how things used to be when they were young, if they were frightened, or even just sad. It was comforting in a way Maribel hadn’t expected, but had needed nonetheless.

Finally, Maribel pulled back. Corrine dropped her gaze, not meeting Maribel’s eyes.

“I can’t help him if he won’t tell me where Jeanne is,” she said, her voice thick with some emotion Maribel couldn’t quite identify. “Get him to tell you where she is, and I’ll do everything in my power to undo the damage I did.” Her voice grew hoarse and she cleared her throat. “I’m sure he’ll trust you enough to tell you.”

“Corrine, are you all right?” Maribel touched Corrine’s arm, flinching when her sister jerked away.

“I’m fine.” Corrine half-shrugged. “Only I’m…so tired. Would it be all right… Is there a room where I could rest before going home?”

“Oh, Corrine, I’m so sorry. I’ve been going on and on about me, about my problems, and here you’re probably ready to collapse.”

Nice. Ask her to help the man who tried to cut her to ribbons and completely ignore the fact that she travelled all the way here by herself.

“Of course I can show you to a room where you can rest. Follow me.”

They stood and Corrine paused, gaze fixed on the mess where Maribel had dropped the dinner tray. Chunks of chicken and thick slices of mushroom lay in a nest of broken crockery, all of it spattered with thick white sauce. The scent of tender shallots and warm Marsala wine perfumed the air, still enough to tempt Maribel’s senses despite the dinner’s ruined state.

“Chicken Marsala.” Corrine inhaled deeply and her stomach growled. “Now that is a sad sight.”

“I have more,” Maribel offered. “The sauce is keeping warm over the fire, and it doesn’t take long to cut up a bit more chicken.”

Corrine shuffled over to the mess and started to kneel. Maribel’s lips parted in shock as she plucked pieces of broken plate from the ground.

“Let me help you clean up this mess,” Corrine said, still eyeing the food as though she wanted to cry.

“I…” Maribel cut herself off from the automatic response that wanted to assure Corrine that she didn’t need to do that, that Maribel could clean it up. She squared her shoulders. If Corrine wanted to help, that was good—admirable. “Thank you,” Maribel told her seriously, kneeling beside her to help.

Corrine nodded, but didn’t speak. They worked together for a while, gathering what they could and piling it onto the silver tray. There was only so much good the napkins could do them, so they had to leave somewhat of a mess behind, but Maribel assured Corrine that it would be taken care of. They were both silent for several minutes as Maribel led Corrine to a room, careful to choose one as far from Daman’s quarters as she could.

Finally the silence started to feel uncomfortable. Maribel glanced at Corrine and noticed the amulet around her neck. She recalled the scene she’d interrupted between Corrine and Daman, remembered seeing her sister holding the amulet in her fist.

“That amulet is new, isn’t it?” she asked.

Corrine automatically raised a hand to touch the item in question. She looked down at the gold-encased crystal. “Yes. Mother Briar helped me make it. She took some of my blood and infused it with her own magic, then used it to make this crystal.” She tapped a fingernail on the slick surface of the glittering red stone. “It gives me power to fuel my spells.”

“It sounds like you’ve been making a lot of progress.” Her voice came out higher than usual, exited. Maribel winced as she realized how she must sound. “I meant, it sounds like you’re becoming the powerful witch you always wanted to be,” she amended quickly. “I wasn’t trying to—”

“It’s all right,” Corrine interrupted. A strained smile tugged at her lips. “I know what you meant.” She dropped the amulet and ran her hands down the silky surface of her skirt. “I don’t want to get your hopes up though. This amulet is Mother Briar’s magic, not mine. It’ll need recharged soon.”

“Still, the spell I saw you using seemed impressive.” Maribel tried to keep her voice encouraging even as Corrine’s words pricked at her high expectations for her sister’s ability to end Daman’s curse.

“A basic shield spell.” Corrine snorted. “Child’s play for any witch with even a speck of talent.”

She obviously didn’t want to speak of her magic, so Maribel gave up. They journeyed the rest of the way to the room in silence. Finally Maribel stopped at a door.

“You can use this room. I’ll come in and help get you settled—”

“This isn’t my first time here, Maribel, remember?”

Maribel’s teeth clacked as she shut her mouth abruptly. “Oh, right.”

Tension crept between them, a sudden awkwardness that hadn’t been there a moment ago. Corrine cleared her throat.

“I’m tired, so I’m going to go lie down.”

“Okay,” Maribel said, perhaps too quickly. “I’ll bring you up some food.”

Corrine opened the door and stepped into the room. She turned to close the door, but then paused. “Maribel?”

“Yes?”

“I’m glad you’re happy. Just… Try to get him to tell you where Jeanne is. I can’t help him if he won’t trust you enough to tell you.”

There was something about the way she said that last part that sounded out of place, a hesitation to her voice like there was more she wasn’t saying. Was Corrine trying to tell her something?

Mother Briar’s words came back to her, the story of how trust was the key to breaking Daman’s curse. Was this part of that? Was this the proof of his trust? Maribel searched Corrine’s face for some sign, some clue. “All right. I’ll try my best.”

Corrine nodded, but there was that same hesitation in her body language, the tension in her shoulders and arms screaming at Maribel that there was more she wanted to say. Before she could push, Corrine closed the door gently, but firmly.

Maribel hovered in the hallway, her mind tearing her in a thousand different directions at once. Should she stay and press Corrine for more information? Was she making a mistake keeping her here? Would Daman trust her with Jeanne’s location? Would he let Corrine leave unmolested if she couldn’t lift his curse?

At some point, she must have started walking, because suddenly Maribel found herself standing in front of the door to Daman’s room. She stopped and listened, holding her breath as she strained to hear any evidence that Daman was lost to his temper again. It wasn’t until several long moments dragged by in complete silence that Maribel realized she’d expected to hear rending cloth, shattering glass and ceramic, splintering wood.

Perhaps he’s destroyed it all already,
she wondered, remembering the state of his room earlier.

“Daman?” she ventured carefully. She knocked on the door, then pressed her ear to the heavy, polished wood. “Daman, are you in there?”

There was no answer, but she heard something. The heavy slide of scales against stone and something else, something softer. It was familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it. She had her answer, though. Daman was in there and he was moving. She tried to picture him and what he might be doing inside and an image popped into her head of the carnage she’d witnessed the last time she’d been in that room.

Suddenly she questioned the wisdom of standing there with her head pressed to the door. She didn’t believe Daman would ever willingly hurt her—even seeing what he’d tried to do to Corrine didn’t change that. Still, if he lashed out in a fit of temper, not knowing how close she was to the door… She backed away a few steps.

“Daman, may I come in?”

There was a burst of movement, something scraping the stone, something different than the now familiar slide of scales, but still a sound she knew but couldn’t place.

“Oh, this is ridiculous,” Maribel muttered. She grabbed the door handle. “I’m coming in.” Without waiting for an answer, she turned the handle and shoved the solid door open, well-oiled hinges not making a sound.