The Daily Rumor
BEWARE THE CURSED BRIDE
By Kristof Knightlinger
I heard a rumor that Valenda’s famous Sweetheart Savior, Evangeline Fox, isn’t the only well-known lady in attendance from the south. It seems that Valenda’s infamous Cursed Bride, Marisol Tourmaline, is here to ruin Nocte Neverending.
Evangeline’s chance at winning the prince might currently be on rocky ground after last night’s
display. But it seems the Cursed Bride is so jealous of her, she’s determined to crush any chance Miss Fox has of marrying the prince and becoming our next queen. My sources spotted Miss Tourmaline in several high-tiered spell shops and witcheries today searching for ways to turn Evangeline back into stone.
The Cursed Bride will no doubt be at tonight’s festivities. If you see her, beware—
(continued on page 3 ¾)
Evangeline crumpled the sheet.
Why would someone give them this? She couldn’t believe a person had been cruel enough to shove this under the door, and she was disappointed that the lies about Marisol had followed her here.
Marisol had gone off alone earlier that day. But even if she had wandered into a spell shop, as Kristof had claimed, it must have been purely accidental; she’d probably thought it was a store for exotic recipes. Marisol
had been too terrified of magic to even step inside the curiosity shop back home.
“I can’t go now.” Marisol wilted onto a clamshell chair and started tugging at the buttons of her long silk gloves.
“Stop.” Evangeline grabbed one of her stepsister’s hands before she destroyed the sheathes entirely. “Everyone knows the scandal sheets aren’t true. You said as much earlier today. People read them for entertainment, not reality.”
“But people still believe them,” Marisol moaned. “There’s always a piece of truth in those pages, enough to make the lies seem real. If I show up tonight, like the paper says, people will take it as evidence that everything else printed about me is correct.”
“Then prove them wrong. When you show up tonight and I’m not turned to stone, people will know you’re not out to curse me.”
“What if something else terrible happens, and I get blamed for it?”
Evangeline wanted to tell her stepsister that she didn’t have to worry about disasters befalling Nocte Neverending. But it wasn’t a promise within her power to make, especially since Jacks would be there tonight.
“In the off chance a catastrophe does strike this evening, you’re more likely to get blamed for it if you don’t make an appearance. It’s easy to villainize a shadow, but anyone who meets you will see how thoughtful and kind and gentle you are.”
“I think you have too much faith in me.” Marisol sniffled. “Just let me stay here. You look as if you should be a princess in that gown, and if you take me with you, I really will ruin your remaining chances of becoming one. No one wants a cursed sister-in-law.”
“You are not cursed. And I’m not concerned about what happens with the prince.” Evangeline was tempted to say that after what had been printed about her in the scandal sheets that morning, her chances with Apollo were slim. But Evangeline didn’t actually believe that. She believed that she still had a chance with Apollo, or another wonderful happily ever after, and she believed the same for Marisol. Marisol was not the rumors and the lies that had been printed about her. And if she and Marisol showed up tonight
together, smiling and happy and untouched by fear, people would be able to see the truth and stop believing all the lies.
“One of the reasons I agreed to this trip was because I wanted to bring you. I thought if you came here with me, you might find your confidence again and possibly a fresh start. Nocte Neverending isn’t just a ball, it’s a chance at stepping into a fairytale, at changing the course of your life and finding opportunities that some people search their whole lives for. This is a night to reinvent who you are, to dazzle everyone you see, and prove to anyone foolish enough to believe the gossip pages that you’re not so jealous of me you’ve set up a magical plan to turn me back to stone.”
“When you say it like that, I sound rather powerful.” Marisol sniffled again, but it inched closer to a laugh this time.
She was starting to change her mind. Her voice was lighter, and the right sort of pink was coloring her cheeks. “I’ll go with you to the ball, but only because it’s really silly of me to think I could ruin your chances when you look so beautiful. I bet you’ll receive five proposals before the prince picks his first dance partner tonight.” Marisol reached out with a gloved finger to touch one of the hundreds of silk flowers clinging to Evangeline’s skirts.
“Oh no!” The cloth violet in Marisol’s fingers tore free of the dress. “I’m so sorry—”
“It’s all right,” Evangeline said. “You don’t notice it.” There were so many flowers on the gown, a person would have to look very close to see one missing violet. And yet, Evangeline’s eyes went back to the damaged bit of skirt where the flower had been. There were five purple threads poking out. Thick threads that should not have broken easily.
Could Marisol have torn the flower on purpose?
Evangeline tried to ignore the wretched thought as soon as she had it. This doubt was just Kristof’s article getting to her, resurfacing some of the suspicions that Evangeline had tried to leave behind in the south. Marisol wasn’t her enemy. Marisol would never intentionally hurt Evangeline or damage her gown.
But Evangeline’s doubt was like salt. There wasn’t much of it, yet it seemed to alter the taste of her thoughts. She recalled the way Marisol’s
face had shadowed yesterday after reading the scandal sheet that declared Evangeline one of the favorites. And Marisol had gone off alone earlier that day. Evangeline still wanted to believe that if she’d stepped into a spell shop it had been an accident, but what if Marisol was a little jealous? What if that jealousy had tempted her into a store despite her fears of magic?
“Ladies, I hope you’re both ready. It’s time to go!” Frangelica’s friendly voice accompanied two cheery knocks on their door.
A minute later, they were all heading out of the inn, walking toward a carriage pulled by four black horses as shadowy as the bits of doubt still clinging to Evangeline. She really didn’t want to think the worst of her stepsister, but the truth was, Kristof’s observations of Evangeline last night had been mostly accurate, so it was possible he’d written the truth about Marisol as well.
“I’m so sorry.” Evangeline stopped before stepping inside the coach. If Kristof was right about Marisol, Evangeline needed to know before reaching the ball. “I seem to have left my gloves in the room. I’ll be right back.”
Evangeline raced back into the inn and up the stairs in a blur of flowered skirts that weren’t meant for running. She needed to be quick, and she needed to make sure that her stepsister didn’t come after her. If she was wrong about Marisol—and Evangeline was almost certain she was wrong— she didn’t want Marisol to catch her searching her room for spell books. If her stepsister knew that even Evangeline had been tempted to believe what Kristof Knightlinger had written, she’d be crushed.
Once back in the suite, Evangeline walked past the sitting room table where she’d intentionally left her gloves and marched directly into Marisol’s room. The hearth fire was still burning, casting warm light over a bedroom exactly like Evangeline’s, save for the scents of vanilla and cream that always clung to her stepsister.
There were books, but they didn’t appear to be of a magical nature. The only tomes Evangeline found were in a pile of pretty pink cooking volumes on the nightstand.
Recipes of the Ancient North: Translated for the First Time in Five Hundred Years
How to Bake Like a Pastry Goblin
Sweet Salt: The Secret Ingredient to Everything
“Evangeline—”
Time stopped at the sound of Marisol’s voice.
Evangeline spun around to find her stepsister standing in the rounded doorway.
It seemed everyone was sneaking up on her today. No—Evangeline quickly corrected herself. Marisol hadn’t been sneaking. Evangeline had just been too busy suspecting her of witchcraft to hear her walk inside.
“What are you doing in my room?” A tiny, confused line curled like a comma between Marisol’s petite brows.
“I’m sorry—I—” Evangeline cast a frantic look about the room as she searched for something to say. “Did you happen to see my gloves?”
“Are these the ones you’re looking for?” Marisol held up a pair of cream gloves. “They were on the table in the sitting room.”
“Silly me.” Evangeline laughed, but the sound must have been as unconvincing as Marisol’s earlier smile.
The comma between Marisol’s brows turned into something like a question mark. Now she was the one experiencing doubts. The look didn’t last long, but it was enough to remind Evangeline that she was concealing more than just her reasons for entering this room. Unlike her stepsister, Evangeline did have secrets to hide. And if Marisol ever found out what they were, they’d hurt her far more than any of Evangeline’s fleeting doubts
—and they would absolutely ruin Evangeline.
