Chapter Fifty-Eight #3
I lift my chin and pretend to look ahead when Varic’s distress spirals in a veritable cyclone, kicking out specks of fear and rage while tears well in my eyes with no hope of disguising them, as this level of distress is too much for either of us.
So much that it could not have come from this evening alone.
Instead, it is the culmination of every powerless experience we have ever known.
I siphon as much as I am able, and my tears fall freely as I reabsorb what he took from me, shuddering with every one of the emotions distinct from his own, with my deep green hue cast over them.
The fear and anxiety, frustration, and discomfort—the sense of violation I would have otherwise been overcome with had Varic not extracted it while I must have been too distracted to notice.
My gut twists, and I nearly drop to the ground with a cry as I force my hand to remain by my side. Overwhelmed with Varic needing to harm himself because he was so overcome with absorbing all I could not tolerate, all to keep from obliterating all of us.
A quiet thrum vibrates through him while his face flushes, and his bloodshot eyes stare vacantly forward. This is not my Varic. This is the shell of the cunning, observant sorcerer who stole my heart so many years ago.
The guests seem oblivious as they converse among themselves, only occasionally gazing between me and the Prince.
Yet even with these fleeting glances, I doubt they’d have reason to look down past my shoulders.
So I extend a hand toward Varic, with the magnet that is him drawing me in, inundated with the urge to grab hold of him and squeeze.
To let him know that I am here, and I care more than he knows.
I survey the room to ensure no one is looking, then prod the side of his thigh with the tip of my little finger.
He glances down with furrowed brows as I gesture for him to look again, but he sends me a questioning look instead.
I widen my eyes and indicate down before he finally obeys my unsubtle command and watches when I poke his leg.
He narrows his eyes, and I force my gaze forward, hoping he received the message.
Varic drops his shoulder and releases his hand to hang at his side.
My pulse pounds and a small smile tugs on the corner of my lips as I slowly—painstakingly slowly—reach as far as I can without drawing attention.
I shouldn’t be doing this. We shouldn’t be doing this. Why am I taking this risk?
Because I know what it is like to suffer alone, and I refuse to abandon him.
The heat of his gaze trails down where I reach before the shock of his finger grazing my own rolls through me. But he pulls away too quickly.
I suck in a breath when he reaches again, pausing long enough that the edge of our pinkie fingers rest against each other. Our contact is feather-light, and sparks scatter up my arm, then arc through my chest and stomach.
Varic shifts, creating a sort of friction which sparks within each of my fingertips. I close my eyes and breathe this moment in, needing more than anything to savor this point of connection.
He drags his finger around the side of my own, caressing my skin, though we shouldn’t take this risk. But it feels so good to touch him.
I clamp my jaw shut when he repeats the motion, caging the cry clawing its way up my throat.
Unable to express just how badly I want it to be him.
How I only ever want Varic to be the one to touch me, to dance with me, and to hold my hand.
But we can’t. Because I cannot have him.
Not in the way I need. Not in the way my heart and mind yearn for in equal measure.
Instead, I will be tormented with the reality of intensely and pathetically pining for him while the Emperor plays increasingly confusing mind-games.
Yet here I am, risking everything to comfort my Lead Guard. Who is so overcome with distress from having to observe me being led in a sultry dance I selected to please our Emperor.
Varic’s shaking has stilled, and his skin has slowly returned to its natural brown, while the redness has decreased everywhere except the tips of his ears and the distinct line curving over both cheekbones and the ridge of his nose.
His hand hovers between us in question, and I pull in a sharp intake of breath, feeling as if my fingers are curling around my heart when I draw them into fists, then clasp them before me.
I swallow hard against the knot in my throat, but it does nothing for the throbbing ache in my chest as the connection to Varic’s mood dissipates, now that he has warded me out.
The Queen turns and beams a wide smile at me, and I force my cheeks to rise in acknowledgement, to which she winks before returning to converse with the Prince and some other sorcerer.
Confusion prickles along my skin as I witness the ease with which they interact with others, while I have never been given a copy of this script for which I have been cast as a main character.
Dread drifts down to settle in my marrow.
Cursed to live a life of wanting, when existing in this prison was easier before I ever knew what I could have had, should I have hidden the true strength of my power.
Had I known to conceal my ability and convince everyone I was average, normal, nothing special.
Instead, I live with regret so immense, it’s infinite.
What was one more adult unfairly punishing a child? What was one more day of accepting our fate as citizens of the Empire? How could I have known that using my power would result in a lifetime of serving the Emperor?
Oh, how I wish I could have been just like any other witch, assigned to serve in some other role, given the freedom to form relationships. To marry and have children.
If I could go back in time, I would. I would suppress this ability. I would refuse to reveal the wealth of power contained within my being.
Hold it in, little one. Hold it back. You must dampen your magic. Do not let them know what you are, or they will exploit it. Yes, that’s it. Suppress, or they will make you hold in far more later.
Yet I made the wrong choice. I let them see what I was capable of, and because of this, my magic—the very thing that got me into this mess—has been overused, abused, and exhausted.
Please let me go back.
To the time before I knew what I was missing.