Page 45 of These Vile Hearts

“The one that looks like it’s been struck by lightning. That’s the candelabra branch, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

“So, that means it should belong to—”

“It belongs to my brother,” I interject.

Tamarind’s mouth unhinges, and I chance a quick shake of my head in his direction. He closes it, but his eyes remain panicked.

The mortal seems less surprised by this than I expected. Almost as if she already knew. “The cursed prince?”

Her words land like barbs shot from a porcupine plant. “So you’ve heard of him.” Of course she has.

“Why was he cursed?”

My teeth grit tightly together at the question.Why indeed.“His heartwood was never meant to be a part of the Sovereign Tree.”

“What do you mean?”

“He was adopted.” The word tastes like spoiled wine. “By my late brother, King Cyperus.”

Maddox’s gaze falls back to my heartwood. “How does that even work?” she asks. “A dryad adoption.”

“It’s a ceremony performed by the druids. They move theheartwood from one tree to another. I’m not entirely sure how it works,” I admit. “They’re the only ones who speak Sylvan.”

“Sylvan?”

“The language of the trees.”

“Ah,” she says as if she understands, though the way her lips twitch to the side makes it clear she has no inkling what I’m talking about. “But how did that curse him?”

The ever-hollow space in my chest deepens somehow, like a bottomless pit growing impossibly more infinite. “The Sovereign Tree itself cursed him…because he was nevermeantto belong to the royal family.”

She frowns more deeply now, still ogling the tree harboring my unsightly soul. My stomach squirms with unease, as if I can feel her staring at my very core. Surely mortals with Sight can’t seethroughdryads too. That would be rather gruesome. And in my case, highly mortifying.

“What a lonely existence the prince must lead. It’s not as if he can help being cursed.” Her voice turns icy. “It’s not like hewantedto be unwanted.”

Her words send a sharp pain lancing through me, spreading like veins of electricity along the cage of bones inside my chest. Because that’s one of the words I’ve pinned to myself beside my plethora of other descriptors. Cursed. Broken. Rejected. Monstrous.Unwanted.

But at least Handsome and Alluring are tacked onto those or I’d simply have nothing to offer.

A breeze travels through the gallows tree, the branches and vines letting out a symphony of eerie creaks. Shuddering, Maddox turns away, moving past me up the path. “I can’t be here.”

“You can’t be here as inhere, or as in the kingdom?” I follow her, attempting to swallow my panic.

She shoots me a sidelong glance, eyes piercing me with their ferocity. I wonder if she ever lets down her guard or if she’s alwayssteeled for a fight. “If I wanted to leave this kingdom, would you even let me?”

“Do youwantto leave?”

“Would you let me if I did?”

I need her here to complete my pact, but forcing her to stay would render that impossible. Who could fall in love with someone who kept them prisoner? But something about the way she looked at me last night—like I had something of hers she wanted—tells me she wouldn’t leave, even if she had the choice. “I won’t force you to prove your trustworthiness, if that is what you are asking.”

“You owe me no favors. Why not force me to stay?”

“As I said last night after you attempted to assassinate me, I am not as cruel as people say.”

In my periphery, I can tell she is assessing me as we walk, Tamarind three paces behind us. I’m unsure whether I’ve passed her secret test or further convinced her of my worthlessness. Then she sighs. “I’m not going anywhere. I may be a lot of things, but I am also a woman of my word.”