Chapter Seventy-Five #2
“I accepted it without meaning to, frozen in fear with the fact I had just handed myself over to another land, when they had every right to imprison me for assaulting the Prince.” His eyes brighten, and a slight smile tugs on my lips as one side of his own rises in a smirk.
“Besides, I knew that I could destroy it without feeling guilty, if it ever became necessary to be rid of the evidence.” He runs his fingers through his hair, which has grown longer than I’ve ever seen it, with tendrils curving down to barely kiss his cheekbones.
“I guessed at the message, based on what he said before the Queen arrived.” I part my lips to ask why he didn’t say anything about the conversation, then clamp them shut when he says, “It was worth the risk, so you might know there are those in power who recognize your value—even when you do not serve them.”
The meaning of his words dredges up some part of me I didn't know was lurking beneath, and I get lost in staring at nothing.
He abandons his post to cross the space within a few quick strides, and I gasp when the warmth of his hand rests over mine. Then my heart constricts when he raises his opposite hand to cradle my jaw with such tenderness.
“It would be ignorant and na?ve to ignore the fact that they want to remove your power from his grasp.” He releases a breath, and the warmth casts over the curve of my neck. “However, it was also apparent they became nearly as enamored with you as I am—and in such a short visit, I might add.”
The heat only he is capable of conjuring erupts like a volcano under my skin.
“They care enough to promise your safety after negotiating an agreement with every other land on the Continent. One where you will never be imprisoned again.”
My stomach twists, because after every attempt to remove my power from the Emperor’s clutches—after every assassination attempt—I can’t trust it.
Shame twists like a fast-growing vine, weaving its way through my chest as I cannot believe there could be anything so precious about me. Nothing aside from my power. The magic which is fading faster than any of us could have expected.
The vine spirals downward and twines with the roots of guilt and embarrassment.
Each one growing from the pit of my stomach, along with the need to reach down my throat and claw every last one of them out.
Because none are welcome in this moment.
Sullying what could be. Yet isn’t that the nature of feelings?
Such fluid, nebulous things never meant to be constantly modified to our liking.
Varic’s hand drops from my chin to hold my hand.
One side of my lips lifts. “I assumed he would have avoided you, after you not-so-subtly told him that if it were not for his title, you would have ensured he ceased to exist.”
“Is that what I said?” Varic quips. “That doesn’t sound like me.”
A surge of hope fills my chest, slashing through the shame and guilt, at the awareness of how we can get through the darkest of days if we can continue on like this. If we can use humor and levity, we can endure the most serious of circumstances.
“I believe you said, ‘The only reason you are breathing is your royal title to the land upon which we stand,’ or something similar,” Malin says.
“Then, ‘Otherwise, I would have obliterated you the moment Tasch was safely removed from your arms.’ Though I may have paraphrased parts of that. It was late, and I was tired.”
We all gape back at Malin until Varic’s laugh peals through the room. The joy in his exaltation becomes infectious, and my stomach muscles clench from the laugh which escapes me next.
My hand flies up to clamp over my mouth. The wrinkles on the sides of Varic’s eyes deepen as he gently pulls my hand down in refusal to allow me to hide my joy from him.
Cirrin joins in with his own chuckling, quickly followed by Fray. Whereas Malin seems to be unfazed while he stares back at Lars, who bites down on his lower lip until his own hearty laugh sounds from him.
I pull my hand free from Varic’s grasp to drop back on the pillow, then clutch my stomach with the uncomfortable soreness settling in the muscles. An unfamiliar sting after a lifetime of missing out on this deep sort of laughter.
A purple plume captures my attention, and I clamp my mouth shut as Malin’s power takes hold of the Prince’s letter and acts as an ethereal sort of escort, carrying the missive toward the flames dancing behind the grate in the fireplace.
All laughter ceases while we watch Prince Auden’s words disintegrate over the embers. Lars hugs his arms around Varic’s chest and runs him back to my vanity at the same time the locks on my door click, with the yellow plume of Danor’s magic granting the Emperor access.
He and his Guards stride inside while I sit up straight on the mattress.
“Up, witch,” the Emperor commands as he storms closer.
I turn and drop my legs over the side of the bed as Varic’s force-shield sluices up my skin.
The Emperor steps in beside me and his whole body practically vibrates with frenetic energy.
His hand trembles as he snatches hold of my wrist, and my eyes flick to Varic in appreciation for his possession preventing the action from stinging.
The Emperor yanks my arm so hard, it forces me to stand until his chest nearly brushes the amber veil over my own.
His gray eyes erratically rove over my features, and I wish Varic’s shield could protect me from smelling the sulphur and wine on his breath.
“Did you fuck him?” Spittle sprays across my face, and I yearn to crush his heart with my magic so I might reach up and wipe his saliva from my face.
“I have never been intimately involved with anyone, Your Majesty.”
“Prince Auden!” he screams, lips wobbling.
“No, Your—”
“Then why did he care about you?”
“I could not presume to guess, Your Imperial Highness.”
“Why would he save you and not his mother, unless you have become his whore?” He leans forward, forcing his forehead to mine. “Did you get on your knees for him, then? Perhaps you did not need to spread your legs to gain such loyalty.”
Varic pushes off from the vanity, and my heart lurches when he continues toward us. Malin’s purple magic rushes across the floor and winds up his legs to brace him in place. His eyes flick to Malin, and I hold my breath when bright amber sparks emit from his fingertips.
I send him a wave of compassion, then pull it back to focus on siphoning the roiling fury from his body. Because I can do this. I can hold enough for the both of us.
Black ink ripples over the back of his hand as he flexes his fist, and I pull in a breath as his blast magic slowly disappears.
“No, Your Majesty. I have never been intimate with anyone, in any way.”