Chapter 16 #2
Sweat breaks out on my skin beneath my cloak. My fingers clench around the reins, and I summon the imagery that’s helped me contain my power in the past: a thick vine winding around my body.
The four riders carry on by without more than a distracted glance in our direction. The pressure in my chest gradually eases, though not without a few final pokes at my innards.
Then a small, sharp jab of retaliation sears between my ribs.
It’s little more than a needle prick, there and then gone, easy to ignore. Nothing like the vicious fits that came over me in the past after years of restraining my magic.
All the same, a chill collects in my belly. Is my power already that impatient to be used again?
I can’t let myself be distracted by those kinds of worries.
Suppressing a shiver, I scan the faces around me for any concerning signs—and find Petra looking back at me with a pensive expression.
Her lips curl in a brief, muted smile, but her attention doesn’t feel entirely friendly. Was she thinking that I should have contributed my vast if chaotic magic to protecting her? Questioning my loyalty for not offering to?
A deeper discomfort seeps through me down to my gut. All the things she must have heard about the riven, all the attempts we’ve made to convince her family that I’m not a threat… What must she make of my hesitation to trust myself?
The Order’s riders dwindle from view and finally vanish down the road. Without a word, Tinom beckons us back onto our course.
I nudge Toast to keep pace with Petra’s steed: a black mare that’s not quite as elegant as a typical queenly mount. We’ll have to get the royal stables back for our future queen too.
Once we’re well on our way again, I pitch my voice low so as not to draw anyone else into this particular conversation.
“I hope you know that if you were in immediate danger and the only way I could protect you was with my magic, I would. I just… don’t want to risk the consequences unless it’s necessary.
Since my going mad wouldn’t be particularly good for your safety either. ”
Petra blinks as if startled that I brought up the subject. Maybe I misread her expression earlier.
“Of course you should moderate yourself,” she says, matching my tone. “From what you’ve said, it’s understandable both for your well-being and for our security in general. I know my father was hard on you, but I trust you to know your limits.”
The thought of King Konram, of how instrumental I was in getting Lothar into a position to murder him—how close I came to murdering him myself—sends a fresh pang of guilt down the middle of me.
“Thank you. You should never doubt that if I could save your life, I’ll do whatever’s in my power to accomplish it. ”
Petra glances at me again with a similar thoughtfulness in her dark eyes. “But not to save your own life?”
My throat constricts. It takes me a moment to pull together my words. “What good would it do me to save myself only to lose my sanity at the same time? At least if I protect you in the process, I’ll have contributed something worthwhile. Balanced out the harm I’ve done a little.”
A furrow forms in Petra’s brow. “You know that I honestly don’t blame you for what happened in Regica, don’t you? That was all Lothar’s doing. I’ve told you I understand that.”
I can’t keep holding her gaze. My eyes dip so I’m staring vaguely at Toast’s mane. “It was still me there. My power opened the doors for him. My magic murdered loyal guards. But I won’t let anything like that happen again. And whatever you need from me, you’ll have it.”
Petra is silent for long enough that I start to think the conversation is over.
Then she speaks even more quietly than before.
“It’s a difficult balance, isn’t it? Knowing how to act and how far to go in any direction…
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought back to that night when my first instinct was to pull Klaudia and Jacos away from the violence.
Maybe if I’d tried, I could have stopped the bleeding… ”
Her voice peters out.
I barely manage to stop myself from gaping at her. “Lothar and his sorcerer would have slaughtered all of you.”
“I tell myself that. That must be why I acted as I did in the moment. But none of us can know for sure what the alternate outcomes could have been, can we?”
The faintest tremor ripples through her words.
For the first time, I see a glimpse of the frightened girl behind the queenly facade.
The nineteen-year-old who hasn’t seen half as much of the world’s perils as I have, who never expected to be ruling so soon, let alone in the face of a massive rebellion.
How much of her confidence does she feel, and how much is a front to maintain the authority that could so quickly slip through her fingers?
How much have my past remarks about her father’s methods of ruling shaken her confidence?
I had to tell her why the people weren’t leaping to support another Melchiorek—that she needed to regain their trust. It wouldn’t have helped her to feign ignorance.
But in this moment, the future we’re working toward feels unnervingly fragile. Petra’s life isn’t the only aspect of her existence we need to preserve.
As I grope for the right response, a relieved call carries back from the front of the procession. “I can see the temple! We’re almost there.”
Peering past the heads in front of me, I make out a pale white spire against the blue-gray sky.
Only a thin flicker of relief passes through me.
It’s time to find out what reception we’ll receive from this place we mean to make a sanctuary.