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August 29 - August 30, 2025
Her father had been a man of faith, but he used to say that the churches here were like vampires—they weren’t meant for worship, they were designed to entice and entrap.
All stories are made of both truths and lies, she used to say. What matters is the way that we believe in them.
She knew the rules for visiting Fated churches: Always promise less than you can give, for Fates always take more. Do not make bargains with more than one Fate. And, above all, never fall in love with a Fate.
There were sixteen immortal Fates, and they were jealous and possessive beings. Before they’d vanished centuries ago, it was said they ruled over part of the world with magic that was as malevolent as it was marvelous. They never broke a bargain, although they often hurt the people they helped.
According to the myths, the Prince of Hearts was not capable of love because his heart had stopped beating long ago. Only one person could make it work again: his one true love. They said his kiss was fatal to all but her—his only weakness—and as he’d sought her, he’d left a trail of corpses.
Her father had taught her that Fates didn’t determine one’s future as their name suggested. Instead they opened doors into new futures. But doors opened by Fates didn’t always lead where people expected; instead they often led people to new desperate deals to fix their first bad bargains.
The Fates weren’t dangerous because they were evil; the Fates were dangerous because they couldn’t tell the difference between evil and good.
It was said that every Northern tale had started as true history, but over time, the Northern story curse had twisted all the tales until only bits of truth remained.
“I believe there are far more possibilities than happily ever after or tragedy. Every story has the potential for infinite endings.”
She knew some people would think this made her foolish, but it was tremendously hard to fully fall out of love with someone when you had no one else to love instead.
Evangeline couldn’t figure out any reason why Jacks would want her and Apollo to wed, which gave her hope that her theory was wrong and that Apollo really was experiencing a dramatic love at first sight.
“The arches were one of the most incredible things that the Valors created. They can serve as portals to faraway and unreachable places, and as doors they are impenetrable. Once locked, an arch can only be opened with the proper type of key. If a sealed arch is destroyed, there’s no finding what’s on the other side.”
The arches probably whispered different things to everyone, and if they didn’t, she was not about to let Jacks know they had been talking to her.
“How did I not see it?” The older woman gasped, staring at Evangeline as if she were the most dangerous one in that vault. “You’re the one who will open the Valory Arch.”
“You will know her because she will be crowned in rose gold. She will be both peasant and princess.” Evangeline didn’t believe the woman was mad. The words sounded almost prophetic. “You cannot marry the prince! The Valory Arch can never be opened!” the matriarch cried. Something metallic flashed in her hands. And then she surged forward with an item that looked like a knife.
“There was never any magic in your kisses,” Jacks interrupted. “When Apollo fell in love with you, it wasn’t because you kissed him, it was because I willed it.”
He held on to her as if she were a grudge, his body rigid and tense, as if he really didn’t want her there, and yet his arms were tight around her waist as though he had no intention of ever letting her go.
“However,” LaLa added, “if your stepsister is reading that book, I would agree with Jacks. She is far from helpless, and she’s probably up to something.”
It was just as Evangeline had believed. She hadn’t been delusional or desperate. Luc had only abandoned her and asked Marisol to marry him because he’d been cursed. The only thing she’d been wrong about was who had cast the spell. It wasn’t her stepmother, it was Marisol.
“Luck had nothing to do with it,” Jacks mumbled. “I wanted you here, Little Fox. Who do you think asked Poison to save you and suggest to his empress that she send you to Nocte Neverending?”
She had been trying to give Marisol the benefit of the doubt. She didn’t want her stepsister to be a murderer or a monster. But all Evangeline could think was that Marisol had used another love potion to put Tiberius under a spell.
After a moment, he began to recite: “This arch may only be unlocked with a key that has not yet been forged. “Conceived in the north, and born in the south, you will know this key, because she will be crowned in rose gold. “She will be both peasant and princess, a fugitive wrongly accused, and only her willing blood will open the arch.”
“I didn’t mean to kill him. It was supposed to be you.” Eyes rimmed in grief and anguish met hers. “I didn’t want to hurt my brother. I found a poison—a Fate’s tears that were only supposed to affect females. But it seems that story was a lie.” Tears finally streamed down Tiberius’s cheeks, long, endless rivers of them.
