Author's Notes:
Dear Readers,
Thanks so much for the reviews/faves/follows! Almost halfway through the story. Hope you enjoy!
Happy reading!
Cheers,
Kaye
(***)
Birthright
Chapter 2
(***)
Auradon
Present Day…
"I have to admit, Jay, the uniform does look sharp."
Jay gave Mal a lopsided grin as he adjusted the stiff collar of the blue serge fabric. "It's not the uniform that makes the man, Mal. It's the man who makes the uniform."
Mal chuckled quietly at the comment. She had missed having Jay around. She missed his humor, his attitude, and above all, his steady presence. She knew she had his loyalty and friendship, but sometimes, she just wanted him around to reaffirm that fact. "My mistake. I apologize," she said good-naturedly. Then, with utmost sincerity, she added, "Honestly, you look good, Jay. Life here is treating you well."
"Thanks, Mal." The lightheartedness had left the man's tone too, and was now replaced by a hint of concern. "You don't look half-bad yourself. How's life on the Isle?"
Mal shrugged. "It's fine." Honestly, she couldn't say anything bad about her current situation. After all, she'd grown up on the Isle, and it was like going home. But at the same time, she couldn't say she was happy either. Happiness was something of the past now. "But you would know that if you came to visit more."
Jay had the decency to look somewhat contrite. He scratched the back of his head and affected a sheepish expression. "Sorry about that. I got a bit tied up here with the promotion and everything."
Mal knew all the reasons, thanks in part to Evie, but she couldn't help but tease him about it. She hadn't seen him in so long that these old habits were something she unconsciously latched on to. "I know. Just don't let it happen again."
"On my honor as a thief … err, former thief," he promised with a devilish twinkle. Then, he sobered. "What are you doing here, Mal? You know you're not supposed to be seen in Auradon, let alone the palace. If it wasn't for our friendship, I'd have to arrest you and report you to Ben."
Mal steeled her resolve at the task before her. Ever since Evie's visit a couple of days ago, something had been off. She'd felt uneasy the whole time, as if she subconsciously knew something was about to happen but she couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was. Then, when she'd heard street vendors on the Isle gossip about some dragon attacks in Auradon, she knew the incidents had to be related. And so, with Evie's – and now Jay's – help, she'd managed to escape the Isle and sneak her way into the royal palace.
"I know, Jay, and I'm grateful for it." She walked slowly to one of the large windows in the drawing room they'd entered and looked down at the well-manicured grounds. So many parties and balls had been held there, and she had been a part of it all. But that felt like a lifetime ago. "I heard there have been some attacks in Auradon, and I think I can help."
"You mean the ones that look like dragon attacks?"
Mal turned back to Jay and nodded.
"You don't have anything to do with them, right, Mal? Because I told Ben—"
"No, they have nothing to do with me. But that's why I'm here. I want to help."
Jay's expression remained serious. "Okay, I'll get Ben, but I don't think he'll like you being here."
"I know."
The new captain made to leave, but then stopped. "Look, Mal, I don't know what happened between you and Ben, and Evie refuses to tell me, but I've got your back, no matter what. Rotten to the core, right?"
Mal warmed at the words. "Thanks, Jay."
Jay gave her a reassuring smile and moved toward the door. "Oh, and if you get the chance, go visit Carlos. He'd love to see you. He'll either be at the museum upgrading their computer security system, or helping out at the animal shelter."
"I will," Mal said as she watched her friend walk away.
Left alone to wait, she paced leisurely around the sunny room. Like everything in Auradon, the rooms of the royal palace were immaculate and bright. The gleaming white trim of the space accented the pale yellow wallpaper, and provided a nice counterpoint to the classical lines of the furniture and the stately elegance of the Persian rug. Mal knew that Belle had a hand in decorating this room. Her touches were everywhere, from the color palette to the tiny glass figurines on the side table.
She remembered first seeing the interior of this place, with Ben as a guide. What a dramatic contrast it had been to the surroundings she'd grown up with on the Isle.
"Mal."
At the sound of her name, she turned around and met the eyes of the man she hadn't seen in five years.
(***)
Auradon
Five Years Ago…
"Come on, Mal, it'll be fun!"
Mal raised a skeptical eyebrow as Evie tugged on her sleeve to follow. The hustle and bustle of the annual Auradon fair reminded her of the cramped market streets on the Isle, but whereas one would have to watch their wallets and their throats there, the fair here sported a more jovial air. Mal reluctantly followed her best friend between the jostling bodies. "Why would I visit some rip-off con artist fortune teller when I could just have you scry on your mirror?"
Evie grinned mischievously as they arrived at a red and black tent. "Because then I can make fun of her, call her a sham, and show her up."
"Wow, what did she ever do to you?"
"Nothing. It's just the residual evil left in me. You can take the girl out of the Isle, but you can't take the Isle out of the girl."
A chuckle escaped Mal at hearing Evie's reasoning. She couldn't argue against it. She had the same inclinations at times. "Fine. Let's see what the future holds. Ben and I can have a good laugh over this when he gets back from his trip."
The inside of the tent was dimly lit, the few candles lining the makeshift walls causing Mal to take a few seconds let her vision adjust. But once she could make out the shape of the small table in front of her, an upbeat voice greeted the two of them.
"Welcome, welcome! Please, come in. Have a seat!"
The woman who approached them was short, and slight of frame. With the lack of light, Mal couldn't pinpoint her age exactly, but she moved with the energy of youth and exuded a cheerfulness that was infectious.
Mal's gut reaction, honed from a childhood on the Isle, was to erase that smile right off the woman's face. Luckily, the conditioning of the last few years in Auradon tempered that. "Thank you," she said instead as she took a seat with Evie at the table.
The woman moved around in a rustle of skirts and sat down across from them. "My name is Susan. Susan Brown."
Evie laughed. "What? I thought the sign said 'Madame Tremaine'?"
Susan let out a resigned sigh. "Yes, that was the unfortunate decision of my manager. He thought I would draw in more people if I had an exotic sounding name."
Mal wasn't sure what she found more amusing: the fact that she was visiting a fortune teller named Susan Brown, or that Susan actually had a business manager.
"But don't let that turn you off," Susan added. "I'm the real deal."
Evie's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Yes, of course."
"So what can I do for you ladies?"
Evie jumped at the opening. "Oh, my friend here would like her fortune told. You know, the usual … love, and life, and stuff."
Mal caught the conspiring glance her best friend threw her way, and assumed her part. She sat straighter in her seat, and placed her hands on the table, palms up. "Yes, I was wondering what was in my future."
"That, I can do!" the woman replied eagerly. She gently took a hold of Mal's hands, and slowly traced over the lines on the palm. She was quiet for the most part, analyzing and likely formulating some generic story to appease the naïve girls who'd stumbled into her tent.
Mal met Evie's gaze and gave her a knowing smile. She was just about to ask Susan what she saw when the woman in question sat back abruptly in her chair with a violent hiss.
"What's wrong?" Mal asked, genuinely curious now.
"You…" Susan stared at her, wide-eyed, her voice hoarse. "You're a daughter of the dragon."
Mal threw Evie another look before turning her attention back to the fortune teller. She felt some of her dark fairy magic flowing within her at the moniker, and knew her eyes were brighter than usual. "Yes, so what if I am?"
"The widow's curse is upon you," the woman said shakily, her gaze riveted on Mal. "Your child marks the end of life for your mate."
"What?" The gibberish Susan was spouting was confusing Mal and beginning to annoy her.
"As it was with your mother when you were born, so it shall be when your child is born. The curse of the black widow…"
Mal had half a mind to curse the fortune teller herself, with all the fuss she was causing. Evie likely saw the intent in her eyes, and firmly grabbed her arms off the table and away from Susan.
"Let's go, Mal. This wasn't a good idea. I'm sorry." She dropped a few coins on the table. "Thanks, Susan. That was … informative."
Before Mal had a chance to do anything rash, Evie tugged her out of the fortune teller's tent, and through the crowds of people milling about the stalls of the fair.
It took several minutes for the power coursing through Mal's veins to ebb, but when it did, it left an icy trail in its wake. She shivered at its absence, despite the sunshine and warm air. Evie had brought them to the outskirts of the grounds, a quiet, isolated corner where they could gather their thoughts.
"She was probably making things up, Mal," Evie said calmly.
"She knew who I was, Evie. She also knew I was pregnant."
"But that doesn't mean anything. That doesn't affect you or Ben or your baby at all."
Mal knew Evie was trying to be the calm, rational one between the two of them, but she could see the doubt and underlying panic in her blue-haired friend's eyes.
"My mother once told me my father was an inconsequential no one. I learned later that he died when I was born." In the way of consoling herself, she wasn't doing a good job. Her mind raced to bring some order to the things they'd learned. "Evie, use your mirror. I think I trust that more than some random woman at a fair."
Evie nodded in complete agreement, and dug up her mirror from inside her purse. Her fingers gripped the compact tightly. "Magic Mirror, shed some light, enlighten us to our future's plight."
Mal watched avidly with her friend as the mirror blurred away their own reflections and re-formed into an image of Ben. Her heart beat a bit faster at seeing his familiar face. He'd been away overseeing some business of state for the past week, and viewing that boyish charm in those clear eyes reminded her of how much she missed him.
But the image quickly changed as the mirror panned away, showing the rest of him. He laid there, unmoving, and it was then that Mal noticed the unseeing quality of his gaze.
Dead eyes.
A gasp escaped her mouth before she could stop it, and her knees gave out at the revelation the mirror had revealed. Evie caught her before she fell completely.
She looked, shocked, at her best friend as she grasped the other girl's arm in desperation. "Evie…" she said weakly. "Ben's going to die…"
(***)
Auradon
Present Day…
Ben looked different. He'd filled out in the last five years, his chest broader, and the angles of his face more defined. Gone was the boyish air of youth, and in its place was a man who looked capable of carrying the weight of a kingdom on his shoulders with ease.
She had fooled herself into thinking that she'd killed whatever love she still had for him. That was a lie. A big, fat fucking lie. Seeing him now, in the flesh, caused that self-delusion she'd been living under to crack and crumble.
"What are you doing here?" Ben asked sharply. "You know you were banished from Auradon on pain of death. And I don't care how powerful you are. Dead is dead, and I don't think even you can reverse that."
Mal bit her tongue to avoid saying anything she might regret. If only Ben knew how she had used her powers to thwart Death. But sometimes, she wondered if the cost had been too high. She took a moment to formulate her thoughts, to stamp down whatever emotions had escaped the seal she had put on them five years ago. She searched for and found the villainous girl she had once been. She eased up on her posture, crossed her arms, and gave him a mocking smile. "Is it so hard to believe that I simply wanted to wish you well on your impending marriage?"
"Yes."
The quick and brusque response was unexpected. "You wound me," Mal decided to say, placing her hand on her heart in an exaggerated gesture.
"Not so much as you've wounded me."
Ben's statement affected Mal more than she let on. She forced the shock of it down with an iron will. "Would a 'I'm sorry' earn me a temporary visa into Auradon?"
"No." There was wariness in his answer, but that wariness was slowly replaced by anger as he circled her, like a beast stalking its prey. "Don't take me for a fool, Mal. I'm not the same gullible boy you once knew. You made sure of that five years ago. So, why are you here? And if you don't answer truthfully, then I'm having you arrested and sent directly back to the Isle."
Mal had a snide retort on hand, but the veracity with which Ben had spoken his words caused her to hesitate.
"That was whatever mercy I had left in me rearing its ugly head, Mal," he continued as he stopped moving just a couple of feet shy of her. "Answer me before my patience runs out and I re-instate the archaic practice of witch burning instead of having you arrested."
Part of Mal wished she hadn't come back. His nearness, his warmth, pulled her, and it took almost all her willpower not to run to him. Demons below, how she wanted to run to him, confide in him, and take on the world … together, like they used to. Her assumed persona wasn't working, so she finally opted for something simpler – honesty. "I heard about the villages out east. I want permission to enter Auradon to investigate."
"What? Are you good now? Do you even care about the lives lost?" The malice in his words couldn't be hidden, but there was something else. Mal realized that the hurt she had caused him all those years ago was still there, subtly creeping its way to the surface.
"Do you work in five year cycles or something, where you alternate your nature back and forth?"
"Ben—"
"Because if you do, I don't want any part of it! I'm sending you back to the Isle, Mal." His voice had risen with his temper, and he turned away from her as he made his decision.
But he wasn't quick enough. Without thinking, Mal reached out to stop him, and grabbed his arm. They both froze, and stared at the contact. The skin of Mal's palm tingled with awareness at the heat – Ben's heat – that permeated the fabric of the sleeve. They looked up at each other, her determined gaze locking with his steely one, and in that moment, Mal swore she still felt the same attraction, the same connection they had shared five years ago.
As if the touch and the realization burned her, she let go. Why, oh why, did she feel like she was fighting a losing battle? "If you don't understand anything else, Ben, then understand this," she said lowly through clenched teeth. "You're right: I'm evil. I was the moment I was born. We all knew as much except for you with your idealistic little boy fantasies."
She turned away from him, not wanting to betray any emotions that might've shown on her face. If only he knew how much he had truly changed her. "So you'll understand that being selfish comes with the territory. Now, whatever is happening on your eastern borders is dragon-related, which means it's related to me. Is it so hard to believe then that I want to go for my own self-interest?"
She cast a quick backwards glance over her shoulder at him, hoping he would take the bait. Unfortunately, his expression was unreadable. Somewhere along the way, her impressionable young prince who had once worn his heart on his sleeve had become a smart, calculating king.
After a moment's pause, Ben opened his mouth to respond but was cut off abruptly by several cries coming from the courtyard.
"What the—" Ben ran to the windows to find the source of the noise, and Mal followed suit behind him.
Several men straggled in, some walking none-too-steady, and some walking with the assistance of comrades. Yet, it wasn't the ripped and bloodied uniforms, or the dirtied bandages around the men that drew both her and Ben's attention. It was the bodies – fallen fellow soldiers – that the men pulled in behind them that did.
Mal looked over at Ben again, the sunlight playing off the contours of his face as his jaw clenched. She wanted to reach out and touch him, to hold his hand and provide him comfort after seeing the men – his men – return defeated. But she settled for simply staring.
"Those were the men I sent to the eastern borders," he said tightly, as he continued to watch the sad sight.
Mal's voice remained somber. "Either you send more good men to die, or you send me to investigate."
End Chapter 2