Bound by Curse

The Truth

Rebecca's POV

The throne room was full of torches.

Servants stood along the walls in long rows. Guards stood by every pillar. Marta held her hands together at her chest, and Mira's face was wet. Garrick stood near the throne with his arms crossed and his eyes on the floor.

I stood in the middle of the hall in a plain gray gown. My legs shook. My stomach hurt. But I kept my chin up.

Draven sat on his throne. He was in black, and his face was like carved stone.

"It is night," he said. His voice rolled through the hall. "You had a whole day to think. Now speak. Who is the father?"

I looked at him and said nothing.

"Answer me, Rebecca."

Why should I? My heart was pounding. You were there. You know.

"Do you think your silence will save you?" He stood up slowly. "Say his name. Now."

"I will not."

A whisper went through the room. Draven came down the steps one by one, and each step echoed.

"Why do you protect him? Do you love him?"

A broken laugh escaped me. "Love him?"

"Then why?"

"Because you are asking a question you already know the answer to." My voice shook. "And I will not be your fool."

His jaw hardened. I looked at his face, and a new, terrible thought came to me. Does he think I am a woman who sleeps with anyone? Does he think because I gave myself to him once, I am a woman who gives herself to everyone?

That was why he never spoke of that night. That was why he hated me so much. To him, I was just a cheap thing from a tavern.

My eyes filled. A tear rolled down my cheek, and I did not wipe it.

"Look at her," Draven said coldly. "Crying again. Tears will not wash this away."

"I am not crying for myself."

"Enough!" His voice cracked like thunder. Marta jumped. "I have heard enough lies. A woman like you cannot be my queen."

My heart stopped.

"You are a betrayal. You are a disgrace to this kingdom." He turned to the whole hall. "Hear me, all of you. The Queen has shamed this house, and she will not wear this crown any longer. I have chosen a new queen."

"What?" The word left my mouth in a whisper.

"Princess Isabella." He held out his hand. "Come."

Isabella stepped out from the crowd in a wine-red gown, her golden hair shining. She walked slowly, like a bride, and put her hand in his.

"I will marry Princess Isabella," Draven said. "It is her reward for showing me her sister's crime."

The room went silent. I could not breathe. I looked at her hand in his, and everything inside me turned cold.

Isabella pressed her free hand to her heart, and her eyes filled with tears.

"Your Majesty, I did not want this," she said, her voice trembling. "I only wanted justice. My sister has always been this way. I loved her, and I wanted her to learn."

"Isabella..." I said.

"I could not stand to watch a great king be betrayed." She sniffed and wiped her cheek. "I heard her speaking with her maid about the test. And then it all made sense. Why she married you so quickly. Why she wanted a king. No one would take her, because of the curse. So she found a man strong enough not to fear it, and she tried to hide another man's child behind his name."

"That is a lie!"

"It was not an easy choice." She did not look at me. "She wronged me too. But this is the only way she will learn." She turned to Draven with a soft smile. "The throne was always mine. My sister took it from me, and now I am glad it came back."

It was her.

I stood there with my hands shaking. All the pieces fell into place, one by one. The way she walked into my room with him. The way she knew about the test. The way she smiled while he hit me. She had heard me through that door, and she had taken my pain and turned it into a knife.

She had heard I was pregnant. She had believed it was not his. And she was using it to take my husband.

No.

Something broke open in my chest. I had stayed silent because I was proud. I had stayed silent because I was hurt. But if I kept quiet now, she would take everything. My husband. My place. My child's father.

I could not let her.

"Stop," I said.

No one heard me. Isabella was still speaking.

"Stop!" I screamed.

Every head turned. Draven's eyes narrowed.

"Everything she told you is a lie." I stepped forward. My whole body was trembling, but my voice was loud. "Everything, except the child."

"Except the child?" His laugh was bitter. "How is it a lie? You carry another man's child."

"It is not another man's."

"Then whose?"

I looked straight into his golden eyes.

"Yours."

The word fell into the room like a stone into deep water.

Draven did not move. Behind him, someone gasped. Marta covered her mouth. Garrick's head snapped up.

"What did you say?" Draven whispered.

"The child is yours." Tears ran down my face, but I did not look away. "It has always been yours."

For a moment, I thought I saw something move behind his eyes. Then his face went dark.

"You dare?" His voice was low and shaking. "You dare say that to my face?"

"It is the truth!"

"I have not touched you!"

"Did you forget?" My voice cracked. "Or are you trying to shame me in front of all these people? If you hate me, I understand. But for the sake of your own child, be human!"

"Liar!"

"I have never been with any other man! Only you! Only one night, and then I was married, and..." I pressed my hand to my stomach. "If that is what you think, if that is why you will not accept it, then you are wrong. It was only you before this child came."

The hall was so quiet that I could hear the torches crackle.

Draven's chest rose and fell. His hands shook at his sides.

"How is that possible?" he said at last, very low. "A king like me does not deny his own child. Never. If it were truly mine, I would claim it, even if it came from a servant girl in the street." His voice rose. "But I have never touched you. So this child is not mine, and I will not accept it."

"Draven, please..."

"How dare you stand in front of me and try to pin it on me?" He came close, until I could feel his breath. "Are you not afraid of what I will do?"

"Do not tell me you do not remember." My voice was nearly gone. "The night I ran from my father's house. The tavern. You sat beside me. You bought me wine and told me a story about a fat nobleman who fell asleep in his soup. You said I had a beautiful laugh."

His face did not change.

"You took me to a lodge," I went on, shaking. "There was one candle by the window. You asked me if I was sure, and you said you would stop if I told you to. You kissed my neck. A sob broke from me. "You have a silver ring shaped like a wolf. You wore it that night. You're wearing it now."

Every eye in the hall moved to his hand.

For one second, his fingers twitched.

Then he lowered his hand and said, coldly, "I go to that lodge. Yes. Many times."

My heart dropped.

"I have seen a great many beautiful women there. They warm my bed, and I do not remember them." His eyes were flat and empty. "But I have never seen you. And I have never done any of this with you."

"You are lying."

"Do not call me a liar in my own hall."

"You saved me!" I cried. "In the street, from those men. You came out of the fog and..."

"Oh, Rebecca." Isabella's voice rang out, sweet and sad. She stepped forward and shook her head. "This is shameful. You must have asked around about the King. His habits, the places he goes, the ring on his hand. You learned all of it so you could tell this story."

"That is not true!"

"Everyone knows where the King spends his nights. Any servant would tell you for a coin." She turned to the crowd, and her eyes were wet. "She has gone so far as to make up a night with him. Is there no end to her sin?"

Someone in the crowd murmured. Another whispered,

“She is shameless.”

"Draven, please," I begged. "Look at me. Look at me and say you do not remember."

He did not look away. His eyes were hard as iron.

"I have never touched you," he said. "I do not know anything about your child. And you have tried to use my name to hide your shame, right to my face."

"I am telling the truth!"

"You have not learned your lesson." He stepped back. His voice was quiet and cold. "Guards."

"No..."

"Take her. Lock her up. She will stay until I decide her judgment."

The guards came. Their hands closed on my arms. I did not fight them. I could not. I stood there, empty, while they pulled me back through the hall.

I looked at him over my shoulder one last time. He was standing very still, and he was not looking at me.

Isabella leaned close to his arm and smiled.

And I understood, with a pain so deep I could not even cry out, that he truly did not remember me.

My knees gave way in the hall, and the guards held me up. All I could hear was the sound of my own heart breaking.