Cursed

Gisela flopped back on her bed with a sigh, clutching the novel she’d finished to her chest. She was such a perv. Screw the leading man. The villain was so hot, especially in his wicked, all-black battle armor. The glowing red of his eyes was incredibly sexy, along with all those hard edges.

Heat stirred in her core. He was so…amazing. How could any woman in her right mind keep her hands off that incredible man? Even when he wasn’t wearing it and he was simply the Grand Duke of Rhunesbain, he was the most attractive character. And yet the ladies never gave him the time of day because he was quiet and his hair white.

Underrated; that was what he was. And the prince? Ha. He was so lame. The villain’s every action was easily justifiable while the leading man made too many expected choices simply because they seemed right. There was absolutely no depth to him.

She rolled onto her side and caressed Duke Voland’s strong jaw on the cover of the novel. “They’re all morons, every last one of them.”

A yawn captured her mouth. She shut off the lamp, then snuggled into her bed. Grand Duke Voland. If she was a character in the book, she’d show him how a real woman treated such a stud.

“Lady Gisela, you must get up. You’ll never survive if you don’t get out of bed.”

Aches pulsed through Gisela’s body.

A hand touched her shoulder—pain splintered through the contact, and she cried out.

“Forgive me, Lady Gisela, but you must get up lest the curse consume you.”

Curse? Lady?

Gisela opened her eyes. A pretty woman frowned down at her, dressed as a maid.

What the…?

The lady’s puffy eyes crinkled at the corners. “That’s it. Up with you. We must work on purging the curse from your body.”

Heat flared throughout Gisela, and another cry ripped from her.

“I know, sweet one, but you must fight it. Get up and come to your bathing chambers. I’ve readied a medicinal bath for you.”

Something clicked.

“Rose? Rose, open this door.” The door somewhat muffled a woman’s voice. “You mustn’t disturb the little miss.”

“Please, my lady, I’m begging you. To stay in bed means certain death.” The maid started to straighten, but Gisela grabbed her arm—pain spiraled through her, and she groaned. “Help me.”

“I am. But you must do this on your own.” She straightened, yet Gisela held on with all her might, and sat up through the agony slicing through her.

A scream ripped from her, yet she flexed her burning muscles and began climbing from the large bed. “Support…me…”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Open this door this instant. She’s to rest. You better not be doing anything to her.”

“Beth.” An angelic voice carried from the other side of the door where the adult’s demands bellowed from. “Beth, my looks; they’re returning to normal.” Her young voice quivered.

Gisela grit her teeth as Rose stood and stepped back, holding onto her, using her as support to cling to and move with.

“Beth, don’t you want me to be beautiful?” The angelic voice raised in pitch. “If I’m beautiful, I can one day become a princess. Then my father will finally love me. Beth, you must strengthen the curse or I fear my connection to the young miss will break before I absorb her beauty and lifeforce.”

“Rose, open this door at once!” Desperation colored Beth’s booming voice.

Searing, cutting sensations sliced through Gisela. She screamed as she set her feet on the floor. So a little brat was trying to kill her for her beauty. Never. “Let’s…go…”

“That’s it, my lady.” Rose’s voice trembled. “Just a little longer and you’ll be free.”

Gisela moved her foot—her calf cramped. She screamed again, but set her foot down and took another step—her other calf cramped. That little brat. She’d done that to her. And for beauty? When Gisela got her hands on her, she’d make her pay.

A window creaked.

Gisela barely turned her head. A handsome, dark-haired preteen stared at her.

“Hurry, my lady. He won’t harm you.”

Gisela clamped down on a scream and groaned as she made her way to a large doorway. She was in a big, elegant room fit for royalty, something out of a fairytale. Once recovered, she’d explore and figure out where she was.

“Let me help.” The youth hurried over.

“Young sir, she must endure this on her own to break the curse on her.”

His stunning blue eyes started glowing. “I can send some of her pain to the one siphoning her looks and lifeforce.”

“Yes, please, sir, if you will.”

The youth started chanting.

Gisela continued—agony seared her foot and shot up into her leg. She cried out.

The pain lessened, and her constricted chest eased.

A scream wailed beyond the bedroom door.

Gisela gripped Rose and picked up the pace, the pain further dulling. She practically ran into the room. Steam undulated above a large pool, flower petals and herbs thickening the water.

“Sir, you can’t come in here.”

“I must see her—”

Pain shattered through her. “Let him…” She screamed again.

The chanting picked up, and the pain diminished.

Pained screams continued beyond the bedroom door.

Gisela gasped for precious air. “Let him stay. Rose, what do I do?”

“Miss…” The woman’s voice shook harder. “You must undress and soak in the pool. But the boy—”

“Is helping to save me. We’ll swear him to secrecy later. Help me, Rose.”

The woman peeled the nightgown from Gisela and walked her into the water, soaking the bottom of her dress. “I must dip you under water three times. All of you, including your hair, must be covered. Then you must soak in it for at least an hour.” She took Gisela to the center of the pool where it was four feet deep.

Gisela gathered her long raven hair—raven? Long?

Pain continued to pulse throughout her.

She’d worry about it after she was better. She gathered her hair in one hand and faced Rose.

The woman touched Gisela’s shoulders, and the pain slightly flared.

Another scream keened, not muted enough by the bedroom door and distance.

“I’m going to push you underwater, count to ten, then let you up. You can inhale a breath, but I must push you down again for the same count and repeat once more. Do your best to hold your breath, my lady.”

Fingers snapped.

The young man pointed at his eyes, then Gisela, and back to his eyes again.

She maneuvered Rose so she didn’t block the boy, then gave the woman a nod as she inhaled.

Rose pushed her underwater.

Muted words carried overhead.

Strength flared inside her.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

Nine.

Ten.

Rose gripped her shoulders and pulled.

Gisela stood and gasped, forcing her lids open. She met the boy’s gaze—pain almost vanished—Rose pushed her down, so she bent her knees and started counting.