The Witch's Cursed Daughter

36. A Curse To Cry For

Illea eyed Evianna from the doorway, her innocent expression morphing into that of a large predator, a lion. A clinking sound began to ring in Evianna's ears; she was shaking so violently that the cuffs were reverberating against the stone walls. The King, noticing Evianna retracting from Illea on sight, couldn't contain a slight grin.

"I shall leave you two alone. Don't let me down, Baroness; the entire kingdom is relying on you," he said gently as if he were asking the girls to play nicely.

After that, he left, closing the door loudly and damningly behind him. Alone, the two regarded each other in silence; the cold air forced white clouds to form as they breathed. Without warning, Illea took a step forward.

"Illea..." Evianna began, tears already falling in anticipation of what was to follow.

"Shh, don't cry. I am doing this for your good," Illea reassured her while using a warm hand to wipe away tears from her cheeks. Pulling away, she licked away the residue, "we're friends. I will have you healed after I finish."

Illea held out her dagger, decorated with stunning engravings and gems. On closer inspection, Evianna realised they were what Illea had taken from her in Julian's garden.

"Let's begin," Illea's voice cut through Evianna's consciousness as though it was the knife.

Fear fell away as pain gave way to agony. The princess began by ripping away the beautiful dress Julian had gifted her. She then traced Evianna's figure with the tip of her blade, pressing lightly to mark out the course she would follow. After a while, she paused to admire her work; looking up, she beamed brightly, and Evianna felt the icy hand of her dead mother clutching at her soul. As Illea pressed the knife into her arm, dragging it along the bone, all Evianna could do was scream.

Blood and jewels poured from her body as if she were a fountain. A brief moment of reprieve led Evianna to hope that they were finished. Illea admired the heap of jewels, every kind imaginable, and then continued. She was tearing the skin as if she were searching for bones, following the anatomically laid out path she had created before.

Hours passed, and Evianna could no longer feel anything, blood-loss helped her not feel pain, yet her mind had gone blurry. Before she fell back into darkness, away from the delighted Illea, smiling angelically while shredding her apart, Evianna was reminded of her mother's curse.

'You who carry my blood, from this day on your pain, will bring great joy to others.'

Waking, Evianna did not suffer the sensation of a blade. She had been healed completely. The lack of pain crushed Evianna mentally; it felt as if the day before had been a dream, yet the dress that looked as if a beast had mauled it told her differently. This time the lights were still on in the room; looking around, she felt the presence of another. Whipping her head, anxious of company, she faced a boy; he was older than Julian and Illea, yet strangely similar to the King, without his beard. Feeling her gaze, he turned from admiring a light fixture, his eyes empty.

"Don't mind me," he said.

"Where is..." Evianna started to ask.

"Illea has gone to assist in the effort that is searching for you, led by Julian," the boy replied.

"Do you... know...?"

"Pleasure to meet you, despite the circumstances. I apologise for my sister's persistence. However, it was an order from our father, so I doubt you will be free of her until you reach the end of whatever bargain you struck with the King."

Evianna realised who he was. Julian and Sir Beras had mentioned him, the first prince.

"Why... are you here?" Evianna asked cautiously. All she knew about him was that he was busy and exhausted; if he were similar to the princess, she would not stand a chance.

"Needed a break," the prince said apathetically, "this tower is usually empty. I was surprised to run into my sister as she was leaving. Rather, I was curious as to what was so special about you."

"Jewels..." Evianna mumbled, exasperated.

"Indeed. Get some rest. You will only be granted several hours of it," after speaking, the boy moved to leave, pushing the cell door.

"Your... name?"

"Next time, perhaps," he called without looking back, letting the door fall shut with a bang.