Chapter 25
Ikar
Iwork to bind my wildly misbehaving magic up within me, careful to mask any surprise on my face so Vera doesn’t notice.
I’ve never had difficulty controlling my magic, but as soon as I handed Vera that bracelet last night, it felt like the once-continuous and dependable rope of lucent within me began to unravel.
It’s as if my magic snapped. Broke. It moves in a foreign rhythm through my veins, which is concerning in and of itself, but to make matters worse, it’s acting more than eager to reach out of its own accord toward Vera.
I don’t know what to call it or how to describe it, but it’s not normal.
At this point, I can’t tell if it’s me or my magic that wants her more, and neither one can have her.
My first thought was that this is what Jethonan meant when he said my magic would draw toward a Tulip, but that thought was quickly extinguished.
To know that my magic is drawing toward Vera is like rubbing salt in an open wound.
I know she’s not a Tulip, and I know I can never be with her, which means something is horribly wrong.
I enjoyed a slight reprieve from my magic’s pull while filling water a short trek away before we continue our journey this morning, but as soon as I walk back into camp, Vera turns quickly—as if I’ve startled her.
And worse, I catch a hint of wariness in her eyes as she waits for me to pass before falling into step behind me.
Is it still because she fears me, or does that mean she felt it too?
I nearly groan as I rub a hand along the back of my neck and shake my head, frustrated.
Just what I need when she’s barely had time to accept the fact that I’m high king.
Now what? She feels some sort of odd magic from me bombarding her?
I feel like a complete creep. I wind the wayward magic up tight again, unsure what exactly I’m supposed to do with it to keep it away from her—I have to find a way to control it better.
And as soon as we find Darvy I intend to ask him about it; maybe he can even heal it.
I’m left wondering if the velvet widow venom or something else in this long-forgotten forest broke it.
No matter the cause, I know my magic needs to be working properly to recognize a Tulip when I find one, and if my magic is lunging at every woman I come into contact with, it’ll be impossible to find who I’m looking for.
Besides, I imagine it’ll create all sorts of offense toward ladies at court when I return.
I clench my teeth—just one more thing to make this mission of finding a flower and a Black Tulip to bridge with even more difficult.
Rupi settles on my shoulder, seeming extra chipper this morning despite the heat that scorches us from above.
Still, she puffs her tiny chest up and trills birdsong, that, on another day, I might appreciate.
Instead my thoughts wander back to last night.
The look of stark fear in Vera’s eyes when I handed her the bracelet is like a knife in my gut.
Her anger, her stubbornness… I can handle that, but to have her fear me?
I run a hand through my hair in frustration.
I’d thought we trusted each other at the start of this journey, that we were friends, of a sort.
But she fears me now that she knows I’m high king more than she did when she thought I was a violent Class A criminal, and now that my magic is after her, it’s going to make it even worse.
Still, there are things about her that simply don’t make sense.
In fact, not much makes sense when it comes to Vera.
She supposedly has healing magic and origination magic, which I’ve never heard of before.
She refuses to dress as the other originators, preferring darker colors over bright white.
And her fear of me as king? I don’t know where to start with that since she refuses to discuss it.
She’s tantalizing, and I can’t resist trying to figure her out.
I should just let her be mysterious, do her job, pay her, and send her on her way.
That’s what my ever-practical self recommends.
But something about her draws me, and she has parts of me wrapped up so tightly in her grasp that I quite simply don’t want to be just friends or acquaintances, as she so aptly calls us.
Just thinking of those words on her lips has my jaw clenching again.
In the end, though, there’s nothing for us.
I work on feeling grateful for my wayward, broken magic forcing me to keep my distance, even if it does leave me feeling like an unseemly cad in the meantime.
The thought reminds me that I should clear the air about the…
magic issue. I cringe just thinking about it.
I know I need to speak with Vera. I can’t tell if the looks she gives me are based on her dislike of me as the king still, or because my magic is broken and she can sense it—maybe it’s both.
I can’t do a thing about either, but I can at least explain that I’m not trying to make her uncomfortable.
I’d rather lead the front lines of my army into battle against a horde of shard beasts than broach this topic with her, but I need to ensure this mission succeeds, and we have a better chance if I clear the tension-filled air between us.
No matter if I feel ready, I’ll speak to her tonight.