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    CURSED
    By R. B. Knight

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    Copyright © 2016 by Regan Guerra
    All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
    may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
    without the express written permission of the publisher
    except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
    Printed in the United States of America
    First Printing, 2016
    ISBN 0-9000000-0-0
    R. B. Knight Books
    1550 E Thunderbird Rd. Apt 1057
    Phoenix, AZ 85022
    www.RBKnightBooks.com

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PART I
    Adrienne  gasped and looked away, but knew it was already too late. Five years as queen, five years of dealing with Councilman Havard’s oiled countenance... she should have known better. She scanned for some way of escape in the throng of ballroom dancers, but everywhere she stepped, the surrounding crowd would allow her the proper two paces of space, giving away her position. Ironic that the law designed to keep her safe  now betrayed her . She could make out her husband’s form across the sea of glittering gowns and ro bed gentlemen . If she could just…
    “Your majesty?”
    Adrienne bit her lip and took in a breath, taking care not to make too much noise, and turned around with the smile she’d practiced since she was very small. “Yes, Councilman? Are you e njoying yourself?”
    “I am trying, your majesty, but you are so very diverting from the rest of the young ladies in the room. Has his highness bought you a true silk gown?”
    Adrienne blinked to hide the scowl that threatened to rise. Havard knew full well how both she and her husband had agreed to keep their own expenses minimal while focusing on bettering the kingdom. The line her father had drawn between bloodlines had cut deep. The Councilman’s comment, designed to jab at her beloved Markus’ ability to provide, no doubt, earned several scowls from the guests who resided in the lower village and she blushed.
    “What can I do for you, Councilman?” She took a deep breath  to help her keep her smile in place.
    Havard inched closer, to the point where Adrienne felt uncertain whether she could call the guards without treading on broken glass with her guests. “So, so many things, your majesty, but for now, a simple dance, perhaps?”
    He’d practiced that influxion. In spite of the distance, only she had heard the first of what he ’d said. The last was loud enough for the immediate audience to hear, but not so loud as to catch anyone else’s attention, such as  Markus or Gaius, the guard captain.
    Backed into a corner. She’d promised to refuse a dance with no one  upon their first request. It had been intended as a peace offering, an attempt to unite the classes, and now it had grown fangs. The night was still young and none of the other guests had asked her, as of yet. If she refused a Councilman, n o one else would dare ask and the opportunity to heal past wounds would vanish.
    She’d already waited too long to give an answer. The crowd’s movements had slowed to listen in, to see what she’d do.
    “Of course, Councilman.”
    Armed with her permission, Havard crossed the threshold and signaled the orchestra, who started to play a song that made the entire room groan.
    Several couples moved to the drinks and hor d'oeuvres, while others sat in the chairs, fanning themselves. Instead of remaining on the dance floor, however, Havard steered Adrienne through the crowd and into the adjacent room. Her heart began to race. He’d planned this.
    In a moment of panic, she tried to pull away, but he surprised her with his strength.
    “Just hear me out, your majesty. You’re going to want to listen to  what I have to say.”
    Adrienne blinked. Had she misjudged the Councilman? Was there