I Woke Up Married to the Cursed King

The east garden was quiet.

The three of them moved slowly through the overgrown path, looking, feeling, not speaking.

Elian felt it first.

That change in the air. The deliberate quality of the space getting stronger the further they went in.

Something is here, he thought. Something that has been here a long time.

And then he saw her.

The woman from the garden.

Standing by the ivy-covered shrine, arms crossed, looking directly at him.

He stopped.

"Are you done hiding?" she said.

Elian blinked. "Are you talking to me?"

"No," she said. "I’m talking to the one behind you."

He turned around.

Nobody there.

He turned back.

She looked at him with the specific expression of someone who had expected exactly this.

"Oh my God," she said. "What a foolish little child you are."

"Excuse me—"

"I’ve been following you for days," she said. "Standing right in front of you. Looking at you. And you walked through me like I was furniture." She uncrossed her arms. "Do you have any idea how insulting that is?"

"I — you didn’t talk to me," Elian said. "When we first saw each other. You just watched."

"I was gauging you," she said. "I wanted to see what you were. What you were capable of. Whether you were worth speaking to." She paused. "And then you kept not engaging with me and I got annoyed."

Elian stared at her.

"You’re the goddess of the shrine," he said.

"Obviously."

"Why were you roaming around the palace?"

She looked at him like he’d said something deeply stupid.

"Because you," she said, "brought a second divine being to my property. This whole palace is mine. My territory. My ground. And you walked in with another entity and set up a shrine for it and never once asked me." Her voice was very controlled. "I wanted to strangle you."

"I didn’t know you were here," Elian said.

"I know that," she said. "That’s the only reason you’re still standing."

Behind him, Elian heard Riven stop walking. Then Sable. He could feel them — they’d noticed something. They couldn’t see her but they could feel the weight of the conversation happening in front of them.

"Okay," Elian said carefully. "I’m sorry. I genuinely didn’t know. If I had known—"

"You still would have brought the other one," she said. "But you might have asked first."

"Yes," he admitted. "Probably."

She looked at him for a long moment.

"I always wondered," she said, quieter now, "how this place was going to be purified. I’ve watched it get darker for twenty years. Watched things move in." She looked at the palace. "And then you arrived. And you started working." Something shifted in her expression. "You have a good enough understanding of things."

"Thanks," Elian said. "I guess."

"It’s not enough," she said.

"I know."

She was quiet for a moment.

"I don’t have an attachment to this land," she said. "Not anymore. The person I was anchored to is dead. Without an anchor I’m—" She paused. "I’m just here. Fading. A wandering god is not a pretty thing." She looked at him. "So. I propose a deal."

His master’s voice arrived immediately.

Never make a deal with a spirit, a demon, or a god. It never ends well for the human. Never. Not once. Not ever.

"No thank you," Elian said. "I’m good."

"Hear me out—"

"I’ve been told very specifically—"

"I know the rule," she said, irritated. "I was told the same thing from my side. Never make a deal with a human. They’re slippery and they lie." She looked at him. "But here is the situation. I don’t have an anchor. The queen — the woman who worshipped here — she was my anchor. She died. And I’ve been floating for twenty years with no one and nothing and I am not going to simply fade away."

Elian looked at her.

"What happens if I say yes," he said.

"I protect you," she said. "From negative energy. From unwanted spirits. From the things moving through this palace that you’ve been fighting alone."

"I can see spirits," Elian said. "I can protect myself."

"Your husband cannot," she said simply.

Elian went quiet.

"I cannot go to him directly," she continued. "He’s already swamped. Too much on him for me to get through. But if you anchor me — if I have a connection to this land through you — I can work around the edges. Protect what you can’t always be there to protect."

Elian thought about three darkening beads. About the snake activating. About the balcony and the shattered windows and how long can you save him.

"What do you need from me," he said.

"Come to the shrine," she said. "Offerings. Regular ones. And if you have children — your children come too. A family devotion. That’s enough for me to stay. Enough for me to remain strong." She paused. "Two hundred years, maybe. With consistent devotion." She looked at the ivy-covered stone. "I don’t want to fade. I’ve been here since before this palace was built. I am not fading."

Elian looked at the shrine.

Children, he thought. She said children.

He filed that for later.

"You’re angry about the other divine being," he said.

"Furious," she said.

"I need it to stay," he said. "It’s helping. It’s part of what we’re building here."

She looked at him.

"I know," she said. "I watched you build it. I’m still angry." A pause. "But I understand why you did it. So I’m letting it go." She tilted her head. "Don’t bring anyone else to my property without asking."

"Agreed," Elian said.

"So we have a deal."

"We have a deal," Elian said.

She looked at him for a moment. Then something in her expression shifted — the irritation softening into something older and less easy to name.

"What should I call you," Elian said.

"Veira," she said.

He nodded. "Veira."

"And you’re—"

"Elian."

She looked at him. "Not from here."

"No."

"Interesting," she said. "Very interesting."

Behind him Riven appeared at his shoulder. "Are you—" He stopped. Stared at the space where Veira was standing. His eyes went slightly wide. "Are you talking to—"

"Yes," Elian said.

"Is that a—"

"Yes."

Riven turned to Sable. "He’s talking to a goddess."

Sable pushed past both of them. "Ask her about our future," she said immediately. "Ask her what’s going to happen. Ask her—"

"Sable—"

"Ask her if everything is going to be okay. Ask her if we’re going to survive this. Ask her—"

"I can hear her," Veira said. Her voice had gone dry. "I cannot answer those questions. I don’t do fortune telling."

"She says no fortune telling," Elian said.

Sable made a frustrated sound.

"But," Veira continued, "you haven’t started the rituals yet."

Elian looked at her. "What rituals?"

She smiled.

It was the first time she’d smiled. It changed her face entirely — something warm and ancient and slightly terrifying in it.

"The ones that are going to matter," she said. "Come to the shrine tomorrow. Bring offerings. And I’ll tell you what I’ve seen in twenty years of watching this palace."

Elian stared at her.

Twenty years of watching, he thought. She’s seen everything.

"Tomorrow," he said.

"Tomorrow," she confirmed.

And she was gone.

He stood at the shrine for a while after she left.

The air was still different. Like something had settled. Like a room after a long-held breath finally releases.

Riven stood beside him. Sable on his other side.

"She’s real," Riven said quietly. Not surprised exactly. More like confirming something he’d half-suspected.

"She’s real," Elian said.

"And she’s been here the whole time."

"The whole time," Elian said. "Twenty years. Watching everything."

Riven looked at the shrine. "And she never intervened."

"She couldn’t," Elian said. "No anchor. No devotion. Not enough power to act against what was in the palace." He paused. "She could only watch."

He thought about what that meant. About watching a palace fill with spirits and a king be slowly dismantled by a curse and being unable to do anything because you had no foothold, no connection, no way in.

That’s a different kind of being alone, he thought.

"She said she’s seen twenty years of this palace’s history," Sable said. "Tomorrow she’s going to tell us what she knows."

"Yes," Elian said.

He looked at the shrine.

At the ivy that had grown over it for two decades. At the stone underneath, carved in a style from far away, built by a woman who had wanted something familiar in a foreign place.

She built this for you, he thought. The queen. She built this so her god had a home here.

And then she died and everyone forgot.

Except you.

He turned toward the palace.

"Tomorrow," he said. "We come back tomorrow and she tells us everything she knows."

He walked away from the shrine.

Behind him, in the east garden, Veira watched him go.

Tomorrow, she thought.

Yes.