Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two
“This isn’t the time for jokes, Ace!” Vale scolds more sharply than I’ve ever heard.
“What? I’m just checking.” Ace’s tone sounds deflated, but not defeated.
“Checking what?” To say Vale’s patience is running thin would be an understatement.
“To see if magic is really back.” Ace returns to the goblet of wine in his hand, twisting his fingers maniacally around the chalice.
“I used to be able to lift it straight from the glass and into my lips. Hell of a party trick, and it took years to master. It’s the only thing I can remember after all this time to see if it’s true. ”
“I never said magic was back.” The low grumble is chastising and intolerant. Patting at his sides, he reframes his address of our failed magician. “I said something has changed. Mira has changed. And it seems”—he shoots daggers in Ace’s direction—“that something magical has stirred.”
“Something has stirred. Flowers bloom beyond reason. A damn tree branch bowed to save our queen. What part of that is anything other than magic returning?” Ace stands proud in his logic, unwilling to back down from his commander and king, having no qualms about stepping toe-to-toe with the cousin he once terrorized these very halls with.
We’d moved to the parlor to have this discussion. I didn’t want to enter into it in the same space where I learned a man died because of me—or rather, because of his actions against me. I feel a chill every time I think of it.
It didn’t take long, after Soria shared what she saw and Vale explained things as clearly and concisely as he could, before Ace was reaching for the bottle of wine.
Ever the voice of reason, Soria chooses now to speak. “Have there been any other signs?”
I move closer to Vale, threading my arm low across his back and leaning into his side. On instinct, he draws a protective arm across my shoulders, his gentle grip on my arm anchoring me in his strength.
He looks to me for approval, and I nod. I don’t have the strength to say it myself.
“It would seem that Mira has been blessed with the gift. Our gift.” He looks at me lovingly, the treasure in his arms. “She heals like us. More so, it would seem. The attack at the wedding—”
“I knew it!” Ace jumps from the seat he only just claimed after his wine-wielding antics.
“I may have said it was a trick of the light—and let’s be honest, those jewels absolutely could have stopped something—but I knew what I saw.
” He sinks back down, suddenly dumbfounded by the realization that finally catches up to him.
“Wait. If he really did strike you, then…” He turns pale and, for the first time since I’ve known him, is stunned silent.
A man who once laughed at everything now looks as though the world has tilted beneath him.
“Even we don’t come back from the dead,” Soria chimes in. “If he struck your heart, then…” She lingers in the thought, working it through. “There wasn’t even any blood.” She remains puzzled.
“There was light though, wasn’t there?” I say meekly.
“I remember such intense light, but I… Well, I couldn’t see myself, obviously.
But you all said—everyone did—that the gown reflected the sun in such blinding brightness.
” I feel my question hanging between us, even though I don’t quite know what I’m asking.
They all nod. A collective understanding that, if nothing else, something occurred that day that defies explanation.
Vale tells them about the cuts, both accidental and intended. I look at my hands—not because that is where a scar ought to linger, but because I can’t bear feeling this exposed.
I’ve confided in each of them before, shown them such vulnerability, but this… this is too much.
I step away from Vale. I need him more than ever, but the only way out is through. I take command in the only way I know how.
“We have to understand. Even if we don’t know what happened or why, we need to figure out if this power is in me or around me—and what it might be capable of.
You both barely remember magic,” I say to the men in the room, “and you”—I nod to Soria—“know most of it from the tales you were told. That’s why we’ve been reading the journals.
That’s why I was in the garden. I was trying to see if I can control it. ”
“So you did make the flowers bloom?” Soria looks both astonished and proud.
“Honestly, I don’t know. I was trying to. But even with the journals, it doesn’t really explain how. It was only after I gave up that anything happened.”
Vale looks at me intently. I sink down onto the low couch and hang my head in my hands before Vale finally speaks.
“Harmony.”
I turn toward him. The word feels right even without explanation.
He moves to sit beside me, resting a hand gently on my knee. “Mira, I told you—you hear it the way my mother did. She never forced anything; it wasn’t in her nature. But without a doubt, she moved in harmony with everything around her. Particularly nature.”
“He’s not wrong.” Ace finally speaks, still weakened by the earlier admonishment, but warming as he continues.
“I remember her in the garden. She would sit quietly humming—no tune I’d ever heard, and, quite frankly, I know them all.
” Leave it to Ace to weave his usual charm back in so effortlessly.
“It didn’t seem like her own creation either.
More like… a call and answer. The flowers used to bend to her.
The ivy would stretch with each note. That’s the real magic I remember.
But—I stand by my efforts to test things out. ”
Life breathes back into the room.
“If there are answers, we can find them together,” Soria adds.
Something powerful fills my heart. With Vale at my side, I felt like anything was possible. With all of us combined, though—
“Yes,” I say. “Let’s do this.”
We spend the rest of the evening talking. The day is drawing too late to even consider dipping into the collected journals. Tonight is a meeting of the minds.
We share a small buffet of food in the parlor and dismiss the staff for the night. Even with minimal help, we all agree it is best to keep this as tightly knit as possible until we know more.
“Can you imagine when the council catches wind?” Ace’s eyes go wide as he lets out a puff of air.
“Anyone who is privy to matters pertaining to my wife will only be so when we decide they shall.” Ever the protective king. Even Ace shrinks beneath the tone.
Soria, as always, maintains the balance between us.
“You won’t be able to keep it secret forever.
If she really heals the way you say, eventually they will know.
I doubt it will last long enough for us to see whether she ages like us or like them,” she says, meaning mortals.
My kind—that’s how I would have thought of it before. But that was before everything changed.
Before I changed.
“She’s right,” I concede. “I wear the scars of my own misfortune. I’ll do something foolish that should add to the collection sooner rather than later.”
Vale nods in agreement, yet I can see the wheels turning as strategy unfolds.
“We will tell them after we’ve returned.
A private council—only those we trust most and only what is essential.
From there, we will allow them to share it more broadly.
Our kingdom has been blessed. Our queen has been granted the ultimate gift.
No talk of magic. No mention of anything else.
We cannot hide all the ways she has changed, but we cannot let anyone outside this room know just how much has changed. ”
“They still won’t like it. Not the council per se,” Ace corrects. “But there are those who will question any so-called blessing after all we’ve been through.”
“Anyone who questions the crown—and that includes questioning Mira—will answer to me.” I can feel Vale seething at even the suggestion of a threat.
I rest my hand on his arm, a meager attempt to soothe the beast raging beneath the surface.
“Then I’ll have to be dazzling,” I say, flicking a quick wink toward Soria.
“People want hope. You’ve said it yourself—in the early aftermath, and the birth of your sister, in your efforts to build a brighter future.
” I press my lips together as my thoughts coalesce into something closer to a plan.
“Let’s give them as much as we can. A king and queen blessed.
A kingdom with hope of a better tomorrow. Come what may, we can offer them that.
“Even if we have to build it with our own hands.”