Excerpt: Prince of Hearts

She sits on the stone throne, slumped to one side as if asleep, her gray eyes open. The room all around her is in ruin, parts of the ceiling crumbled, pools of water shining in the shafts of light, weeds and vines and wild roses growing everywhere, even over the throne itself. Her expression is blank, weary without tiredness. Her body is gaunt—she can't remember when she last left this place to eat.

She sits here, and waits, unable to move on, unable to dream.

Night comes, and with it rain. She doesn't move as the cold water drenches her, except to occasionally blink the drips from her eyes, and eventually, to shiver. After several hours, when she is thoroughly soaked, she licks the moisture from her lips into her dry mouth, and slowly, shakily gets up. Her gown and long hair cling to her, dripping, and she takes a few unsteady steps forward.

For a moment, her face shows an expression: anguish, absolute despair. Then she screams with every bit of breath in her body, and her howl echoes for miles and miles in the empty, cursed forest.