Nevan
I looked at her, and at the tears she was fighting to hold back.
"Jennifer," I said carefully. "We agreed that what happened between us was a mistake. We both decided to move past it. You know why we cannot —"
"Don’t you dare!" she held up a hand. "Don’t stand there and recite our agreement as though it were mutual. You decided, and I accepted. There’s a difference."
I said nothing because she was right, and denying it would only make this worse.
"But this isn’t about us," she continued. "This is about Rosamund Fletcher. That girl spoke to you today in a way no one in this kingdom would dare. She accused you of violating her. She threatened you in the dining hall, and instead of putting her in her place, you sat there and took it." Jennifer’s eyes narrowed. "That is not the man I know."
"Rosamund is adjusting to a situation she didn’t choose —"
"Rosamund is a girl from a boarding house with no breeding, no manners and no understanding of what it means to be a duchess." Jennifer stepped closer. "She’s not ready, Nevan. She’s not even close. And this wedding in three days? It’s madness. You’re rushing into something that will blow up in your face."
"The wedding has to happen in three days."
"Why?"
"Because the curse is accelerating."
Jennifer went quiet. Her eyes searched my face though the mask, looking for something I wasn’t willing to show her.
"Since when do you care about that?" She asked softly. "You’ve lived with the curse for years. You’ve managed and controlled it. What’s changed?"
"Everything. Last night proved that. The entity reached Rosamund within hours of her arriving at Wellspring. It’s never moved that fast before. If I don’t complete the bond soon —"
"The bond." Jennifer’s voice turned bitter. "That’s what this is about. It’s always about the bond. The witch, the prophecy, the chosen one who’ll break the curse and free the great Duke of Wellspring." She laughed softly. "Have you considered that maybe this girl isn’t special, Nevan? That maybe she’s just another woman you’re projecting your desperation onto?"
"She’s not like the others."
"You always say that."
"Because this time it’s true."
"Is it?" Jennifer took another step closer. Her voice dropped. "Or do you just want it to be? Because from where I’m standing, you’re not acting like a man following a prophecy. You’re acting like a man who can’t think straight because a pretty girl talked back to him and kissed him on her birthday."
The words landed closer to the mark than I wanted to admit.
Rosamund is valuable to me," I said firmly. "She represents the best chance I’ve had in years to end this. That is the beginning and end of my interest in her. Don’t overthink it."
"Valuable." Jennifer scoffed. "That’s a strange word for a man who just let his fiancée plan her own wedding because she demanded it."
"She took it out of your hands. That’s not the same thing."
"It is exactly the same thing, Nevan!" she ran a hand through her hair. "Let her go. Send her back to her father. Find someone else. Someone with a good upbringing, someone manageable and who won’t fight you at every turn or try to destabilize everything we’ve built."
"Jen..." I grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to look at me. "I know you’re used to being in control, especially with my previous fiancées, and honestly, it was a good thing. But can you overlook this one time? As soon as I am wed to her, everything will go back to how it was."
"Nothing will ever be the same if you allow that girl to become your Duchess. Take my advice, Nevan. As a woman, as your friend, as someone who loves you so much. Annul the engagement and send her back home."
My hands dropped slowly from her shoulders, and I took a step back.
"No."
Jennifer scoffed and followed after me. "Why not? There’s got to be something else, Nevan? Because I am sure I satisfy you well enough for you to want to marry for the sake of fulfilling your desires."
"It’s more than that, Jennifer."
"Okay!" she folded her hands, a mocking smile playing on her lips. "I want to hear this splendid reason."
"There is no one else." I held her gaze. "Morwen was clear. Rosamund is the last road. If she fails, or I send her away, there is no next fiancée or next attempt. I will be long gone by then. So, this ends with her. One way or another."
Jennifer stared at me for a long time. Something shifted behind her eyes, a recalculation, a reassessment of the battlefiend she was standing on. I could see the moment she realized that this wasn’t a fight she could win. Not today.
"Why didn’t you tell me all this?" she said quietly.
"We may have our differences, Jen," I said slowly, cupping her cheeks. "But I care about you deeply, and I hate to burden you with things like this."
I attempted to pull her into my arms, but she stepped away, avoiding the hug.
"Fine," she said quietly. "Keep your valuable girl. Marry her in three days. Pin all your hopes on a girl who doesn’t even want to be in the same room as you." She turned toward the door. "But when this falls apart, and it will, don’t come looking for me because I meant what I said the other day, Nevan. I will never forgive you."
She reached for the handle.
"Jennifer."
She stopped but didn’t turn around.
"Stay away from Rosamund. Whatever you’re thinking, whatever you’re planning, don’t go through with it."
Her hand tightened on the handle. For a moment, I thought she would turn around and say something. Instead, she pulled the door open and walked out without a word.
The door closed softly behind her. She didn’t slam it this time, and somehow, that was worse.
I stood alone in the silence, the tremor in my hands growing stronger, the pressure in my chest building like a storm gathering behind my ribs. Clyde was right. The curse was accelerating. The entity had tasted Rosamund, and now it wanted more.
Every hour I delayed the wedding was an hour it had to reach her again.
I looked down at my hands. The tremor had spread to my forearms. And threading through my veins beneath my skin, barely visible in the daylight, was something that made my blood run cold.
Black lines, thin as spider silk, crawling from my wrists toward my fingers like ink bleeding through paper.
The curse had never shown itself in daylight before.
It was showing itself now.