He swirled his wine around, and I wondered what, exactly, he was thinking. “Would you like me to escort you there while you retrieve them?”

“I haven’t told you what I’ve decided.” I eyed him. “And I want you to answer my question. If Pride is the one who’s cursed, how does that affect you?”

“We should go back to the palace, and speak there.”

“Not until you give me some answers.”

Wrath looked like he was considering different ways to string me up using my innards. “I will. Later.”

“Now.” I refused to budge on this. He stared up at the sky and I wondered, if he was praying, why he hadn’t glanced down instead.

“Fine. If I answer your questions, will you agree to stay in the palace?”

“No. But it will help me decide. How about that?”

He drew in a long breath and slowly released it. I waited. After fighting some inner battle, I saw the exact moment he decided to confide in me.

“In order for the curse to be fully broken, a consort needs to sit on the throne and help rule House Pride.”

“Anir said the last consort was murdered. How?”

“Her heart was torn from her chest.” He looked at me, but I had a feeling he wasn’t really seeing me anymore. “Along with a few of her royal ladies.”

“Did the First Witch really curse Pride?”

“Yes.”

I allowed that information to settle in with all of the other tales I’d convinced myself were just stories. La Prima Strega was ancient—she’d begun the first line of witches. Or so the old stories went. Supposedly, she was the source of our power and belonged only to herself. No light magic, no dark magic. Just raw power slightly diluted from the goddess who’d birthed her. She predated human La Vecchia Religione—and the Old Religion was old.

At times La Prima was idolized, and at others, feared. Daughter of the sun goddess and a demon, she was created as the perfect balance between light and dark. We were told she was immortal, but I’d never seen her and didn’t know anyone else who had, either. I always believed she was no more than a creation myth or legend.

“Why did she curse him?”

Wrath hesitated. “It was punishment for what she thought happened between her firstborn and him.”

I sat up straighter. Claudia had mentioned this. “So, what, he stole her soul and La Prima took her vengeance?”

“Witches would believe that, wouldn’t they?” Wrath scoffed. “Pride didn’t steal anything. He didn’t have to. Her daughter willingly chose to wed him. They fell in love, despite who they were.”

I thought about what Nonna had started telling me about Stelle Streghe, about how they were tasked with being guardians of the Wicked. “She was a star witch?”