Cursed (The Spellbound Series, #2)

Prologue

A/N: Hello there, reader!

So this is actually the second book of The Spellbound Series. If you found this through a recommended list, the search engine, or just by pure accident, I would highly suggest reading the first book of the series, Bound (which you can find on my profile), before continuing with this one. If, however, you are here from the first book, a hearty welcome to you! The story of our dearest Melissa continues here.

Enough of my senseless chatter. Please enjoy, and don't forget to vote and comment if you enjoyed it.

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Prologue

968 BC

Lower Macedonia, Greece

The light of the full moon streaked across the courtyard as Demetra breathed in the night's cool air.

She remembered nights like these when she was still a little girl, sat in the courtyard of their home. While her father entertained guests and friends in the men's quarters of the house, her mother would prepare a meal for the servants to bring them, or lounge upstairs in the women's quarters with the men's wives, deep in sewing and gossip. Her older sisters would always be close by as the women spoke, learning from them how they would serve their husbands well and maintain a good marriage.

Demetra, on the other hand, had been willful from a young age, and could never accept the idea of subservience to her betrothed. What use was such a sacred commitment, a union in which a man and a woman shared a life and a home, if the two were not considered as equals? However, voicing these thoughts would've been sure to procure her some form of punishment. So she'd scorned her sisters in silence as they all learned to cook and clean and sew, and vowed that she would not be little more than a fertile servant when she was finally married.

But now, as she stood alone in the courtyard, her hands at her elbows as the soft breeze tickled her skin, she wondered if that vow had been ill-taken. If, had she simply embraced her standing as her sisters did, her circumstances would've been different.

A sudden clatter filled the air, the sound of hard leather against stone. Demetra narrowed her eyes, her hands dropping to her side. "Is there some pressing matter that warrants this disturbance, Sophronia?"

"I do not mean to disturb, mistress." Demetra looked over her shoulder to see her maidservant bow, adjusting her white tunic as she righted herself. "Only to offer my humble counsel."

Demetra turned around, folding her arms again. "And what might that be?"

The girl looked up, her eyes full of sincerity. "There are few things surer than a woman's instinct. Trust yours."

Demetra regarded Sophronia carefully, with her short black hair, deeply tanned skin and light brown eyes. Her name meant self-control, which ironically was something the girl had a considerable lack of, particularly when it came to talking. Though it was this, and the fact that they were about the same age – both barely out of their teen years – that made her the only servant in the house that Demetra had any liking for, and thus the only servant she trusted with even her best-kept secrets.

She shut her eyes, exhaling in resignation. "Fetch my bowl."

Sophronia bowed once more, and then rushed to the door that led to the storeroom. The sound of her sandals against the courtyard floor grated on Demetra, as they always had. Though either was acceptable, she preferred to be barefoot in the household, especially when she tended to the considerable farm that was on the land near the house. There she grew grain and fruit, as well as exotic things that others would pay little mind to. It was a laborious task for many in the area, considering the limited fertile land and the irregular rainfall, but Demetra had ways of ensuring her crops never failed.