I found the witch where the forest grew unnaturally still.
She waited for me, as if she always had.
"You finally understand," she said.
"I give up the crown," I told her. "Its power. Its protection. Its bloodline."
The witch studied me carefully. "And if love fails you?"
"Then at least it will be my choice."
For a long moment, she said nothing.
Then she raised her hand—not in anger, but release.
The air shattered.
The marks burned away. The weight lifted. The forest breathed again.
"It was never love that doomed them," the witch said softly. "It was entitlement."
When I returned to Cassian, he was sitting upright for the first time in weeks.
Color had returned to his skin.
When he saw me, he smiled—and this time, it reached his eyes.
The curse was broken.
But my old life was gone forever.