Bound by Curse

What She Could Not Allow

Isabella's POV

I shut my door and leaned against it. My hands were shaking.

His.

The word kept circling in my mind like a wasp trapped in a jar. I walked to the window to the bed then back again. I could not sit. I could not breathe. "No.” I whispered. "No. It cannot be."

I pressed my fingers to my lips. In the throne room, I had played my part so well. I had cried at the right time. I had shaken my head with sorrow. The whole hall had believed me. Even Draven had believed me.

But I had not believed myself.

Because I knew Rebecca. I had known her all my life. She cried too much, she trusted too much, and she was the worst liar in the kingdom. She would rather stay silent for a year than say one false word. And tonight she stood in front of a hundred people and said, It is yours.

She had not lied. She did not know how.

My stomach dropped. No.

"It was him," I said out loud, and my voice cracked. "It’s Draven’s child."

I sat down hard on the bed and put my hand over my mouth.

For a moment I felt sick. Then slowly a new feeling came. It was cold and sharp. It steadied me.

He does not remember.

That was what I had seen in his eyes. He had looked at her like a stranger. He had no memory of the girl he took to that lodge. She had given him a hundred proofs, the soup, the candle, the ring and he had stood there like a wall.

Thank the heavens.

I got up. Poured water from the jug. My hand was still trembling. I drank it slowly.

If he remembered, it was over. A king like Draven would never leave his own child. He would drag her out of that cell and put the crown back on her head with his own hands. Every plan I had made would fall to ash. The wedding. The throne. The name Queen Isabella.

I will not allow it.

I put the cup down so hard that it cracked.

"She will not take him from me," I said to the empty room. "Not with a stupid baby. Not with a story about a candle."

I paced again. My heart was beating fast.

Why him? I wanted to scream. Why did it have to be him? A guard, a boy, a drunk in the street, anyone. Why did she have to lie down with the one man I wanted?

It was almost funny. Rebecca had always stolen from me without even trying.

I stopped in front of the mirror. I looked at my face. It was pale. My eyes were too bright. I pinched my cheeks until the color came back and smoothed my hair. Get rid of her, I thought. Quickly. Before he starts to wonder.

I took my cloak from the hook. I walked out.

***

The dungeon stair was narrow and wet. The torches burned low. I held my skirt in one hand. Pressed a perfumed cloth to my nose with the other.

At the bottom, a guard straightened. "Princess?"

"I wish to see my sister."

"The King said no visitors."

"The King is my betrothed." I smiled. "Would you like me to tell him that you refused his future queen?"

His face went gray. He fumbled with his keys. The iron door groaned open. The smell rolled out damp and sour.

"Leave us," I said.

He hurried away.

I stepped inside.

Rebecca sat against the far wall with her knees drawn up. Her gray gown was dirty. Her hair hung in tangles. Her eyes lifted to me swollen but when she saw who it was her face went still and hard.

"Come to look at me again?"

"Oh, sister." I let the cloth fall. "I could not stay away, or maybe because you are carrying his child.”

"So you say you do not believe me?" Rebecca tilted her head. "I think you do. I think that is why you are here."

I stepped closer. "Be careful."

"Why? What can you do to me? He has locked me up already." She gave a thin, broken laugh. "You have got what you wanted, Isabella. You are going to be his queen."

"Yes, I am." My voice shook, and I hated it. "And you will not take it from me."

"I never took anything from you."

"You took everything!" The words burst out of me, loud in the stone cell. "William. Draven. Father's love. Everyone's eyes. All my life, you walked into a room with your sad little face, and everyone forgot I was there!"

"That is not true."

"And now this." I pointed at her belly. "You thought you could use that thing to crawl back to him. Over my dead body, Rebecca. I will not let a stupid pregnancy ruin what I have built."

She stared at me. For a moment there was the sound of water dripping.

"What you have built?" she said slowly.

I caught myself. My throat tightened.

"What I have earned," I said. "I told the truth. That is all I did."

"You did more than that."

"You cannot prove it."

"No." She looked down at her hands. "I cannot."

I laughed, cold and bright, and walked in a slow circle around her. "I am glad he locked you up. I am glad he did not believe you. Did you see his face? He looked at you as if you were dirt. He stood there with my hand in his and said he had never seen you. And do you know what? He will marry me. Not you. Me."

"I know."

"Then why are you not crying?"

Rebecca lifted her eyes. They were red, but they were calm. That frightened me more than tears.

"Because I understand now," she said. "I was angry before. I thought he hated me. I thought he was playing with me." She drew a shaky breath. "But he was drunk that night. I remember it now. He drank more than i did. He laughed too loud. He could barely stand when we left the tavern."

My chest tightened. "What are you saying?"

"He does not remember because he was drunk, Isabella. That is all." A small, strange smile touched her lips. "I did not know it before. I know it now. He will remember. Maybe not today. But one day."

"Stop talking."

"He will remember the candle. He will remember my voice. And then..."

"I said stop!"

I lunged forward and grabbed the front of her gown. She did not flinch. My nails dug into the cloth. My face was inches from hers.

"He will not remember," I hissed. "I will not let him."

"You cannot stop the truth."

"Watch me."

"I hope everyone finds out what you have done." Her voice was low and steady. "I hope the day comes, and when it does, you will be the one in this cell. You will be the one begging, and no one will come."

I let go of her so hard that she hit the wall. A small sound escaped her. Her eyes did not leave mine.

"How will that ever happen?" My voice shook with fury. "He does not even remember you! He is mine now, Rebecca. Draven is mine."

"He was never yours."

"He is..."

"He married me." She stood up slowly, one hand on the wall, the other on her stomach. She looked thin and filthy and shaking. And she looked more like a queen than I had ever seen her. "He is my husband. He is the father of my child. You may wear a crown for a while, but you will not take him from me."

I stared at her.

"I will make you pay for all of it," she said quietly. "Every lie. Every tear. Every word you put in his ear. I swear it."

A cold prickle ran down my arm. For a heartbeat, I almost believed her.

Then I laughed, loud and high. The sound bounced off the walls.

"Make me pay? From a cell?" I picked up my cloak. "You will be lucky if you live to see my wedding day."

I walked to the door. Behind me, Rebecca did not say a word.

Outside, the guard was waiting. I put on my sweetest smile as he closed the lock.

But my hands were still shaking as I climbed the stair.

It does not matter, I told myself. He does not remember. He will not remember. I will make sure of it.