"What do things look like back in Merriwind?" Arion asked. "Tiernan sent attackers after me, and I was able to get one to talk. He told me that Tiernan has made a bid for power and that my father is on his deathbed, but little else was clear to me."

Thistle sighed heavily, and leaned on her stick. Somehow her ancient air became older – like the spark left her and she was suddenly just a very, very old woman. "It's worse than that, I'm afraid. Warren attempted to stand against Tiernan – he's now lying in some sort of forced sleep in the dungeons. Meanwhile, the houses seem to either be polarizing towards or against Tiernan's politics. I've been attempting to remind the few neutral and afraid parties that haven't spoken against this move that we still have two other princes and Tiernan does not need to be the answer."

"And Tiernan? What is he like?" Arion demanded.

"He seems harrowed, and more manic by the day," Thistle admitted. "He's never been a politician, and he's even worse at magic. Now I don't know what that boy is, really. His magical presence has spiked like nothing I've ever seen before, and it grows each day."

Arion grimaced. "So which families do we have on our side?"

I stood back and let the experts talk for once. What did I know about planning a revolution? Their words about families and lineages and which groups they could pressure to take their cause meant nothing to me. They were meaningless terms that rang hollow in my ears. After a while, I left them be and wandered a ways away, humming thoughtlessly and toeing patches of clover. I pulled off my shoes and sat, carding my toes through the flora.

I told myself that this revolution was probably healthy. It had seemed the Fae had some crazy societal crap to sort out. But at the end of the day, it felt like it had almost nothing to do with me. I just wanted to see my mom again. I wanted to responsibility of choosing the direction of a monarchy to fade away, but it kept coming back like a stray cat that you fed that one time without the charm. Maybe a mangy death cat with a missing eye and rabies.

I had tuned the pair of them out so successfully that when they finally reached their conclusion and called me back I didn't notice until Arion grabbed my arm and turned me around.

"What's up?" I asked, with a half-smile, which I hoped conveyed my general support and not the fact that I was a little sleepy and bored.

"We may have found a solution," Arion said, but his face conveyed misgivings.

"May?" Thistle countered. "My Prince, I don't see you producing a better idea, so, if you please, this is our only solution."

Arion's jaw tightened, but he nodded deferentially towards Thistle. "So do you wish to tell her, or shall I?"

I studied them. "Okay, tear the band-aid off. I won't play the cryptic talk game anymore."

"Band-aid?" Thistle asked, and I sighed.

"Bandage," I burst out in agitation. "Let's move on. What won't I like?"

They glanced at each other, and then Thistle said, "We're going to call their attention, and you're going to get captured."

"Captured." My brain took a moment to process this. They wanted me to be captured. So I'd be taken back. Back to the dark castle of Merriwind. Back to where I was mistreated and beaten and abused.

"What!" Was all I could manage. Something started to pour from my heart, like a dam had been broken. It was something close to terror. It was like these hairline cracks had been forming in the wall around my true emotions and this had been the breaking weight on it. It came down, and I finally realized (which was stupid, I should have known, I really should have known) what kind of shit I was wading in.

"Grace," Arion said gently, reaching for me. I backed away.

"Nuh no, nuh uh," I said. "Listen, I may be twenty kinds of crazy to you guys. I think I wrote the book on reckless plans, exhibition a: the escape plan from the insane faerie captors through the sewer system with the help of a woman I met approximately a few hours beforehand who I did not like and then run away to New York plan. THAT was freaking insane but now you're asking me to go back to that place?" I spat. "No!"

I turned to Arion, hurt and feeling a little betrayed. He'd actually started to seem like he gave a shit but now it was back-into-the-castle-where-your-life-was-turned-upside-down-you-go. "You said you didn't want me back in Faerieland –" I hated the pleading tone in my voice.

"I don't." he interjected. He got no further.

"So why send me back!" I screeched. "I can't. I really can't go back there." I realized that hot tears were starting prick at my eyes, and I spun away from the pair, rubbing my eyes furiously. I was experiencing too many feelings too fast, most of which were donotgobacktothatplacewhatevertheysaygoddamnit. This was outright panic I was feeling, I realized. I hadn't realized how messed up the castle had left me.

I felt what I assumed was Arion approaching me from behind, but he didn't touch me, which I was honestly grateful for. I might have hurt him. Scratch that, I was keyed up and ready to deck him again. He deserved to have his stupid cheekbones crushed by my fist. The anger was such a clear cut emotion that I clung to it. It was easier to deal with than the overwhelming panic, and helped me force the air in and out of my nose so I could calm down.

"Why?" I demanded.

"You are the only one who is suited for the task of subverting their plans," Thistle admitted. "Arion can't go back, and he needs more support before he can war against the strength of the castle. I am still unknown to Tiernan, but for how much longer? And if I were discovered, he can easily dispose of me, which would leave our side at a disadvantage. You? You are valuable to him and so he cannot destroy you. You also have the unique position of being a member of a powerful family and you have incredible political clout you have not even tapped into. If you are careful, you could turn the war from the inside out."

I swallowed and turned on her, feeling the heavy, angry look in my eyes. "And what's to stop Tiernan from using his new mega-powers on me? What's to say he won't just lock me in my rooms and wait until I cave?"

Thistle grimaced. "This is what we are concerned about, but it seems there are no better options."

Arion approached me slowly, and took my hands in his. I wanted to wrench them away, but he was so gentle, so unassuming with the gesture. I took a deep breath and tried to ignore the anger that pressed at the back of my mind. He wasn't trying to hurt me. "Grace, I didn't want you in the castle either, but we need to build support. We need you to reconnect with your family and give us another one of the five major houses. Tiernan has Rowena's family – she was always besotted with him – and so the majority of the Fire fae are out. The air fae and spirit fae rarely get involved in conflicts – specific families might join either side, but as a whole they stay out of things. The earth fae are often in line with Thistle's family, they support us. The water fae? Their leanings often turn to the Velendi family. Your mother's family."

"So a family I hardly know." I did want to meet them. I always wondered about my grandparents and aunts and uncles… Mom always suggested that they might exist but never specified their existence. "They know nothing about me, who says they'll even care?"

"They will be eager to reconnect with you," Thistle stated with utter certainty. "You will raise their family to royalty. Your grandmother has often spoken of wishing to know you, even if she loathed her daughter's choice."

I closed my eyes and tried to keep breathing, to maintain a semblance of calm. "So we win the civil war. We save Warren, we stop Tiernan. What then?" I asked calmly.

There was a pause and I felt Arion try to pull away, but I gripped his hands tightly, and snapped my eyes open, pinning him down with my gaze. "You don't get to dodge me. What. Happens. After."

"I had thought…" he scrambled for words. I knew what he wanted to say.

"You marry me, get to be king, we have a fabulous party, the camera focuses in on us kissing, fade to credits?" I ground out.

"Well. Yes." He said.

I took another very deep breath. "No."

"Grace, I would take time to woo you, but…" I cut Arion off by crushing his hand in my grip. No more of that. I didn't want to hear that.

"Thistle. Can we speak?" I asked, voice brittle. "Without, his highness," I added, with a look at Arion. He looked briefly annoyed and then wounded before trotting away without a word.

"What do you want to know?" Thistle queried. Her eyebrow arched upwards like the roof on a child's drawing of a house.

I took a deep breath. "I found the ghost of the Queen." I put it out there. I figured she would know something of the phantom in the library. Thistle didn't seem the sort to miss something so out of place in the palace.

She raised her chin, locked her jaw and then growled. "Of course she would show herself to you."

"So you knew about her? And you didn't bother to tell her sons that her ghost was still there?" Thistle shifted uncomfortably. I held her under my gaze.

Finally, she spoke. "We weren't sure who poisoned her. But we knew she was dying, and we knew that it had to be a royal. We couldn't even rule out her children. So we cursed the crown, keyed it to you and split her soul apart so she would appear dead and I would have the time to properly heal her. I knew that her spirit hadn't entirely gone into her vessel, but that little part of her majesty turned out to be frustratingly difficult to trap. Evidently, she found you."

"So you even knew about the cursed crown." I felt like people kept hiding all the cards that pertained to my life in their hands. "Would have been something nice to not hear from a crazy piece of a not-all-dead Queen's soul," I pointed out.

Thistle shook her head. "The terms would still have been the same," she explained.

"No, they're completely different!" I shouted. "The other version is just the king making a rule that can be unmade. If I'm not wrong, a curse is usually pretty permanent."

"You are not incorrect," the witch admitted at last, slowly.

I studied her. "There is a way." My heart buoyed. I tried to hold that hope close to my heart. There was a catch, based on the way her mouth was twisting.

"Why do you care?" she asked, redirecting. "You're fond of Arion. He's a handsome boy. You two flirt like a pair of idiots."

"Remember the no cryptic-talk rule? Still applies here." I shot back, blushing. She was right, dammit. But I didn't want to be compelled into love. And I didn't want to marry someone who just wanted me for a crown. "Don't be evasive. How can we break the curse?"

I had her. She had to tell the truth – faeries were bound to do so. I smiled at her. "C'mon. Tell me."

"No." Thistle said primly. "It's not an option."

"Tell me. I can blow your plan to smithereens either way." She didn't respond and I sighed. "Listen, Thistle, I never chose this. I never chose this life. And I know that I "chose this" because of the rose, but I never would have taken it if I had known what it meant. Never in a million years. I was a child. Who makes any smart decisions? And now I'm stuck in a marriage." I took a gamble. I continued with the totally honest and painful truth. "You're right, you crotchety old hag, I like Arion. A lot. But I don't know if he likes me for me or if he likes me because I come with his kingdom. He would pick duty to his people over his love life. I can't live like that. I won't live without love with a people who are not mine. Not when I know there is a way out. So please. Tell me."

She studied me with dark eyes. "You've grown up a great deal since you came to me that first day," she said at last. I looked away and wanted to cry. If I couldn't get her to tell me while being sincere I didn't know what to do. She took my chin and guided my face to look at her. "You live for your happiness. I can respect that. It was something I never did and always envied. You are, so much like your mother. And that is a good thing, Grace." She smiled at me. Fondly, perhaps. "I will tell you this thing. But it is a dark thing. And I trust you to use it well." I nodded.

"The way to kill a curse is to kill the cursed. A willing sacrifice from those on whom the curse acts is the only way to stop something as deeply rooted as thing."

I swallowed and nodded. "I see." My heart hurt. So I was stuck with this. And there was no way to allow myself time to figure out what I wanted with Arion, no way to guarantee his feelings. Unless I wanted to die. I laughed shortly. "Of course."

"So you see, it's not an option." Thistle said. "I am sorry, Grace."

"A few years too late, Thistle," I pointed out. "Thank you, for your honesty though. I know you have to be honest, but I am grateful for a straight answer – even if it's not what I wanted." I smiled weakly and fought back tears. She opened her arms to me, and I fell into them, and cried. She enveloped me in a hug that smelled like earth after heavy rain. As my sobs slowed, I thought how odd this was, that I was crying the arms of the stern troll woman who had kicked the shit out of me in Merriwind.

"Feeling better?" she asked me.

I nodded and pulled away. "Yes, thank you." There was awkward pause and then I said, "I wouldn't have expected you to be a good hugger."

Thistle smiled. "I have had many years of practice – I am the closest thing the little princelings had to a grandmother."

"I'm sorry for them," I retorted lightly, without a thought.

Thistle cackled like a dry leaves. "Let's go find Arion, Smart Girl." She stood with a grunt and took my arm. We walked slowly and in the quiet. I was surprised by our new-found camaraderie. I should cry on people more often. Maybe they were wrong – dancing wasn't my focus, tears were, and they made people automatically like me. Internally, I rolled my eyes at this train of thought.

"Who cried the most?" I asked.

"Don't answer that," Arion said, emerging from the trees. "What has you two thick as thieves? Should I be concerned? Will a town burn down? Will there be a plague?"

"None of your business," Thistle said before I had the chance to. "You don't need to know everything, Eleran."

Arion sighed dramatically. "Great. You've got secrets now. We're doomed."

"Shut up," I said. "I'm allowed to have secrets. Everyone else does."

We fell into a pleasant silence and soon got back to camp. I threw some logs on the fire and tried not to watch with glee as Thistle grumbled about how Arion fussed about her. It was oddly sweet. I stared into the flames and mulled over these feelings of flickering fondness for these frustrating faeries.

I noticed Arion sit across the fire from me, seeing him through the dancing flames. He didn't try to talk to me at all, which seemed to stem from respect more than from anger, based on how he was behaving. I knew his anger and this wasn't it. I wanted to talk to him. To say something about this whole situation and see if I found words that made sense somewhere along the way. If my future was inextricably tied to this man, I knew I should get to know him.

We tried to break the silence at the same time, our names tumbling on top of each other awkwardly before we both chuckled and tried to invite the other to talk first to equally disastrous effect. I swallowed and smiled uncomfortably. "Please, you first," Arion said, at last.

"Ah," I fumbled for words. "Um, why don't you?" I said at last.

"Alright." He took a moment, collecting himself. I saw how he pulled his gold curls behind his ears when he was nervous, which I found deeply charming from the usually certain prince. "Grace, I want you to know that you are not obligated by anything. When this revolution is over I will reclaim the rose and destroy it. And you don't need to agree to this plan of ours. We'll find another way."

I stared at him, dumbstruck. "You're letting me out?" I asked. I knew I couldn't really go. I knew that the crown was cursed and once they found that out they would bring me back because they needed a king. I knew all this, but he didn't. And in spite of this, he would let me walk away.

"My father's words are powerful to be sure, but," he swallowed. "When he dies, they become useless. Words, and nothing more. He never made us swear, we just wanted to do right by our mother. Dying words mean a great deal to the Fae since death is such a rare occurrence."

"But what about your people, and becoming king?" I asked despite myself, moving around the fire so that I could really see him. I wanted to make sure this was really happening.

"My people matter to me, to be sure. And so does my kingdom. There are a lot of things I think I could fix." Arion took a deep breath and reached for my hands before retracting his hands. He rubbed one of his palms with his thumbs. "But I can take power once Tiernan is overthrown. The people won't like it and I'll need to work harder to prove my legitimacy," His eyes looked dead into mine, "But I would rather work hard than see get that angry and distraught."

Internally, I was alight. My heart was ablaze, and I didn't know what to do. My throat caught at the sight of the wary sincerity from a man who struggled with showing his real self to people. In that moment, I saw the true core of Arion, and it was good. I could probably live with that. And without a curse there to push us into this, I would love to spend every day getting that Arion to come out and romance me.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to leap for joy. My frame was too much for the knowledge that I was insane about Arion. I loved what I knew of him and wanted to know more about him. And I plead insanity for my following actions.

I kissed him.

It was an electric strike from my lips to his and suddenly we were kissing. His mouth took to mine naturally, like it was always supposed to be there. I felt his hands on either side of my face, drawing me deeper into the kiss. I felt the flicker of stubble around his lips. I might have sighed. It was a pretty damn perfect kiss. I clung to his doublet, weak.

When we pulled away, I felt hazy. I felt unreal. Oh god. This was bliss. I had been kissed but I had never felt that.

"Well," he said, gleefully.

"Shh," I said, stopping him. "Don't ruin this for me, I was enjoying myself." I shook myself. What was I saying? Oh dear, I was really crashing and burning.

"You kissed me," he pointed out, but underneath the snugness there was a hint of awe.

I took a deep breath and opened my eyes, meeting with a man who looked at me like I was everything. I also couldn't wrap my mouth around words, but managed a weak, "Thank you, captain obvious."

He laughed. Oh dear. Oh no. There was that wonderful laugh. I was collapsing hard and fast. I couldn't trust myself. I didn't want to be a complete idiot about this.

"So what was it you wanted to talk to me about, before?" He asked, still holding me close his face.

"Uh, nothing important," I replied lamely.

"Good." He lips curled upward. I saw his eyes dart to my lips. We were headed for round two and fast and I was deeply concerned about how okay with that I was. He moved in, and I put my finger on his lips.

"Actually, uh," I scrambled, searching for a distraction. Cursed, you are cursed to be with this man, I repeated to myself over and over. I didn't want a forced love, and I wanted time. I didn't want to be hurt when Arion found out that it was not just his father's words that bound his crown to me. It hurt me to force myself to pull away from his grasp. I took some deep breaths.

"I wanted to discuss the plan. For the rebellion. What do I need to do once I get captured? Any more specific instructions?" My tongue provided just the wrong distraction. Well, I guess I had just agreed to the "plan", even if it terrified me.

Arion looked at me as though I had grown twelve heads and slapped him. There were so many things in his eyes. I saw confusion. I saw hurt. I saw anger. Damn.

"I don't understand you, Grace," he said finally, standing up.

"What do you mean?" I demanded. "I asked a genuine question."

"You kissed me." He said. I knew what he meant. He meant that I was playing hot and cold and that wasn't fair. He was right. I felt so ashamed, even though I knew this was probably for the best.

I played dumb. "We pointed this out already," I replied blithely.

He growled. "One moment, you vehemently deny having feelings for me or wishing to go through with the rebellion. The next you're kissing me and asking about plans. Forgive me if it's exhausting trying to keep up."

That stung. My stupid mouth plowed right along, providing me with just what I had asked for: distraction galore. "Exhaustion?" I asked. "Oh, I am sorry your majesty for being so exhausting. Oh yes, I am so exhausting. And yet you're the one who drags me through hell and back, on a horse, to a camp, through training, late into the night. I'm sorry if I don't weep for your exhaustion."

"I said I was sorry," he said.

"Sorry can't just make everything better!" I shouted, my frustration at the curse coming out. "What still remains is that I am bound to you, no matter what and I can never get that time back. I am stuck. My life is totally altered. All because of you. Sorry is a very hollow word. You want to apologize, show me."

Arion was just angry now. I could see it in the hardness in his eyes. "I thought I had." His voice was chilly. This caught me. He was right. He had respected my space. He hadn't kissed me until I had kissed him. He had even tried to let me go honorably. I was an idiot. I searched for words. "What, no comeback?" He demanded. "Any more guilt you'd like to lay upon me?" I had nothing to say. My mouth had done its job for the night. He turned away from me and took a deep breath. "Great, good. I shouldn't have kissed you. I won't approach you anymore. I'll explain the plan tomorrow, and we'll set things in motion." With that he stalked into the woods.

I growled at kicked a pebble on the ground. Why could nothing be simple?