The curse was almost finished. And he wasn't going to be able to use it. Obvious, the reason, now that it was staring him in the face, with lovely innocent blue eyes. Why hadn't it been obvious before? It didn't matter. He had to get it out of here, this reason he couldn't use the curse.
On the other hand, didn't this work out perfectly? The thought insinuated itself casually, bringing nuances of safety and certainty. It was underlined with fear of betrayal. He almost started thinking it made perfect sense—now he would find Bae—
But no, it didn't make sense at all. He was nearly mad from the loss of the one person he loved. He certainly wasn't going to destroy this poor girl for having the audacity to make him like her. He didn't rip hearts out of people. At least not people he liked. Loved? Drat.
Could he have managed it? She was supposed to have left before he had to find out. If she hadn't come running back in the first place and sat herself down at the edge of the spinning wheel then he wouldn't have had to think about it. He had realized only then that she did well, very well indeed as a thing he loved the most. He couldn't tell her how he had lost his son and his unique plan to get the boy back, because he didn't want to scare his quarry.
And then the dratted girl had impetuously kissed him, and he was shocked that he had been about to do such a thing as ripping out her heart-what sort of evil was THAT? But there was something else there, her excited words, "It's working!"
Paralyzing fear. He was not in fact a particularly clever man, but there had been a lot of time to learn to be guileful and to recognize a trap. This, this breaking of his power—too many things happening at once, but he was certainly doomed if he lost his power. He pulled his fear and outrage back over him like a cloak, had a refreshing little yell at the mirror. Then lock the girl up so he could think things through with a two-by-four and all the breakables in the castle.
It was hard, sending her away, but necessary. He barely lied. He loved his son more than her, and only his power would let him find his son. Therefore he loved his power more than her, quid pro quo. And just for instance say he loved her most, that meant that he could get his son back—it was an impossible question. He did not trust himself, though. He was pretty certain, right now, that there were some unforgivable things he had done, and he was none too sure he would remember she was Not To Be Killed.
Then she was gone. That was no fun at all. Her absence cut through his preoccupation with plots and schemes in a highly unexpected manner, and every time he passed the tea service—the new tea service—it became more obvious that he could never enact the curse himself as long as she was alive.
There was another way, though. He didn't have to enact the curse, himself. It just had to encompass the whole kingdom, him in it. Anyone could enact it then.
That woman always trying to steal his power, for instance. She would do take the curse in a heartbeat, given the right circumstances. He just had to ensure the right circumstances arose, give her the final hint when she was desperate enough to act without thinking. He could see the whole chain of events stretching out.
And then he would find his son.
And his greatest enemy would be powerless.
(And who knew? Maybe he would even get the girl.)
This time he would be safe. This time he would win.