“You are hardly in a position to be making demands.” He sighed, almost melodramatically. “She is a pretty thing, for a human. Not as pretty as the Adalheid princess. Now, she was a gift my love would have doted on like no other. Sweet, charming … talented. They say she was blessed by Hulda, just like you, Lady Serilda. Her death was such a waste. As will yours be, if it comes to that.”
“You’re trying to goad me,” said Serilda through her teeth.
The Erlking smiled quite viciously. “I take my enjoyment where I can.”
Serilda swallowed and glanced behind her, unsure how she should feel to see that the doorway back to the mortal world was still there.
She could leave. Could he follow her? She suspected not. If it was so easy, surely he would not have stayed confined to the veil, allowed freedom but one night each cycle of the moon.
But she couldn’t leave.
Not without Gerdrut.
Her gaze traveled up toward the rafters, but the princess who had been hung from the chandelier was gone. Her body would have been disposed of long ago. Buried or tossed into the lake. Serilda knew her ghost was not here in the castle. Either she’d been left behind in Gravenstone, or sent on to Verloren. Otherwise, she was sure she would have noticed her among the ghostly servants, and Gild would have known immediately who the portrait depicted.
Gild.
Where was Gild? Where were any of the ghosts? The castle felt eerily quiet, and she wondered if the Erlking could force their silence when it pleased him to do so.
She fixed her gaze on the king again, trying hard not to think about the four trembling children beside him. The ones she had already failed.
She would not fail Gerdrut, too.
“Why did you abandon Gravenstone?” she asked, and was pleased at the surprise that flashed over his face. “Was it truly because you couldn’t stand to be in the place where Perchta had fallen? Or did you choose to claim this castle as another layer of revenge against the prince who killed her? It must have felt quite satisfying at first. Do you sleep in his quarters and listen to the moans and cries of the ones you murdered all night long? Does that please you?”
“You enjoy a mystery, Lady Serilda.”
“I like a good story. I like when one takes an unexpected turn. What’s interesting to me is that I don’t think even you have figured out the final twist in this tale.”
The Erlking’s lips curled with amusement. “That the little mortal girl will be saving everyone?”
Serilda clicked her tongue. “Don’t spoil the ending for yourself,” she said, proud of how brave she sounded. Though in reality, she hadn’t been thinking of her own role in this tale at all. They say she was blessed by Hulda. That was it—the real reason the Erlking had wanted the princess. Not just for Perchta to dote on, not just because the child was so beloved among her people. He had believed that she was the gold-spinner. He had taken her for her magic, probably so she could spin golden chains for his hunts.
To this day, centuries later, he still didn’t know. He’d taken the wrong sibling.
Of course, Serilda wasn’t about to tell him that.
“The story still hasn’t revealed whether or not you kept the princess’s ghost,” she said. “Did you release her to Verloren, or is she still in Gravenstone? I understand why you couldn’t bring her back here, of course. The love the prince felt for her was so strong—surely, if he saw her, he would know that she was his sister and that he loved her very much. I think that’s why I haven’t seen the king and queen, either. You didn’t keep their ghosts. You couldn’t risk them recognizing each other, or their son. Maybe it wouldn’t break the curse entirely. Maybe their family and their name would still be forgotten by everyone, even themselves, but … that wasn’t the point, was it? You wanted him to be alone, abandoned … without love. Forever.”
The Erlking’s face was that cold mask he favored, but she was coming to know his moods, and she could see the tension in his jaw.
“How do you know the things you do?” he finally asked.
Serilda had no answer for him. She could hardly tell him that she’d been cursed by the god of lies, who somehow, it seemed, was as much the god of truths.
No. Not the god of lies. The god of stories.
And every story has two sides.
“You brought me here,” she said. “A mortal in your realm. I’ve been paying attention.”
His mouth quirked to one side. “Tell me—do you know the family’s name? Have you solved that mystery?”
She blinked.
The family’s name.
The prince’s name.
Slowly, she shook her head. “No. I don’t.”
She wasn’t sure, but she thought he might have seemed relieved at this.
“Unfortunately,” he said, “I am not a fan of fairy stories.”
“That is unfortunate, as you are in so many of them.”
“Yes, but I am always cast as the villain.” He craned his head. “Even you cast me as the villain.”
“It is hard not to, my lord. Why, just this morning you abandoned four children by the side of the road, their hearts devoured by nachtkrapp and their bodies left to the rest of the scavengers.” Her chest squeezed and she dared not look at the spirits standing at the king’s side, knowing she would dissolve into tears if she did. “I think you rather like playing the villain.”
Finally, a real smile graced his features, down to the sharp points of his teeth. “And who is the hero of this story?”
“I am, naturally.” Serilda hesitated a moment, before adding, “At least, I hope to be.”
“Not the prince?”
It felt like a trap, but Serilda knew better. She laughed lightly. “He’s had his moments. But no. This is not his story.”
“Ah.” He clucked his tongue. “Perhaps you are trying to save him, then.”
Her smile wanted to fade but she clung to it. Of course she wanted to save Gild. She desperately wanted to save him from the torment he’d endured these hundreds of years. But she could not let the Erlking know that she had met the poltergeist, or that she finally knew the truth of who and what he was.
“Once I’ve met him, I will let you know,” she said, keeping her tone light. She made a show of looking around the throne room. “Is he here? You tethered him to this castle, so he must be around somewhere?”
“Oh, he is,” said the Erlking. “And I regret it more days than not. He is a constant thorn in my side.”
“Then why not release him from the curse?”
“He deserves every bit of suffering he’s been given and more.”
Serilda gritted her teeth. “I will keep that in mind, when I finally cross his path.” She lifted her chin. “If we have a deal, then I am ready to complete your task.”
His pale eyes glinted in the torchlight. “Everything is already prepared for you.”
Chapter 52
As the king strode past her, Serilda ushered the children to her sides. Touching them, she remembered how it had first felt when Manfred had helped her into the carriage, so many months ago.
They were real. They were solid. But their skin was brittle and delicate and cool to the touch. They felt like they would crumple to ash, but that didn’t prevent her from squeezing them into a giant hug in a hasty attempt to give some comfort.
The Erlking cleared his throat impatiently.