Chapter Sixty
Late
Knuckles rap on the wooden door, startling me as I turn to the murmuring voices of my Guards.
Blinking back the sleep from my vision, I can just make out Varic’s form as he cracks the door open, shoulders squared with a bleak expression.
I shove the covers down to drop my legs over the edge of the bed.
“Who is it?” I whisper to Lars.
“Prince Auden.”
“At this hour?”
He nods. “We’re just as confused as you are.”
More whispered conversation happens just out of my earshot before Varic closes the door and strides closer.
My pulse quickens in suspense as he leans over me, taking hold of the comforter in both hands to raise it up and over my chest. His hand casts along the seam to smooth out the wrinkles as he looks down on me with such an unreadable expression I almost chide him for trying to protect me from his feelings.
“That was Prince Auden.” His voice is firm and official, nothing like the Varic by the fireplace earlier. “He has extended an invitation for you to go on a horseback ride with him tomorrow after luncheon.”
“Horseback ride?” I ask, barely holding back a laugh.
“Apparently, the Prince is fond of riding and hoped it would please you to join him.”
“Well, as we all know, I have no choice but to accept his invitation.”
Five sets of eyes stare back at me in sympathy.
“Please don’t look at me like that. I do not need your pity.”
“It’s not pity, Tasch,” Cirrin says. “It’s concern. You have never ridden a horse before.”
“It can’t be that difficult.”
“It is not safe to do without proper training,” Varic says.
“I think the Prince would understand if she were to decline due to lack of experience. They could always take a stroll through the gardens,” Lars offers.
“You’re just saying that because you’re terrified of horses,” Fray says.
“Am not.”
Fray rolls his eyes before turning to stare out the window, feigning indifference.
“Fine. Teach me,” I say, offering Lars a look of apology.
Varic’s jaw ticks as he stares off, apparently lost in thought.
“Should I request the Prince give me a lesson?”
“No.” Varic’s tone is harsh. “I will arrange for a lesson after breakfast tomorrow. That way we can determine if it is safe for you to ride with the Prince in the afternoon.”
“What about the Emperor? We cannot assume he will continue to allow me the freedom to traipse about the castle.”
“He has ordered you to maintain the Prince’s attention, and while I do not like it any more than him forcing you to do anything else, this is simply following his orders.”
“Why do you deem it safer for me to spend time with the Prince than the Emperor?”
“I do not trust the Emperor’s purpose for traveling here.
Why bring his prized witch, who has been the target of so many attacks, to a land where we have no military presence?
Especially after the largest bomb we know to exist was sent through your bedroom window.
If we cannot protect you in a land surrounded by soldiers, why bring you here?
And why isn’t he keeping you by his side?
What benefit does he derive from bringing you if you are not to manage him or any of those he is questioning?
He and Wyrth do not want you involved in their plan, which is highly suspicious.
Plus, protecting you in an open, outdoor setting is far easier than a room full of witches and sorcerers with unknown spell-casting abilities. ”
My head tips to the side. “Your logic is sound. But why don’t you think I can safely sit on a saddle while holding onto some reins for a leisurely ride?”
“There’s more to riding a horse than that,” Cirrin explains.
“For one, as the rider, you’re the one giving commands,” Fray adds, and I stifle a laugh.
“You think because I am so used to taking commands, I am incapable of giving them?”
“Oh, no. We are well aware of your commanding nature,” Varic says, and I scoff. “It is your safety that is most important.”
“And what criteria will you be evaluating to gauge my safety while riding?”
His eyes flash with something as he leans over me. “How well you can mount, straddle, and effectively give commands. That and ride without falling off.”
I bite my lower lip as my cheeks flood with the heat rolling straight down my center.
The corner of his mouth lifts, indicating just how much he’s enjoying this.
“Fine.” I give in, then close my eyes to get some rest.
Another knock tears me from a dream, and I lie still with my heart kicking against my breastbone. The door creaks open before a tangle of hushed voices engages in what sounds like an argument, while I turn and look out the window, where the moon is the only source of light.
Who the fuck is at the door this time?
“Tasch.” Cirrin lowers his voice into a soothing whisper.
“Hm?”
“His Imperial Highness requires your assistance.”
“I’m awake.” I push the covers down past my feet, then shift the robe down over my legs before standing.
“I am not taking you anywhere in so little clothing.” Varic’s gaze sears a trail up my body before he turns to stride toward the bathing chamber.
Malin’s mouth ticks up in the corner as he stares at me, casting his purple magic to hurtle past his leader and return with a solid black silk robe to cover the sheer one I’m wearing, along with a pair of black velvet slippers.
Varic watches in surprise as Fray drops to one knee while Malin’s purple swirl of magic delivers the slippers to his side.
He works each one onto my feet before straightening.
Malin’s telepathy holds the robe open, helping to slide it up each of my arms. My chest fills with gratitude at this touching display of my Guards’ compassion and care for me as I tie the belt myself.
I shuffle toward the door and force my spine to straighten, like a string pulled tight in the center. The Imperial Grand Witch must look the part, no matter the time.
Varic steps up to my side and holds his arm out, which I gladly take. His form relaxes with my contact, and I smile up at Lars, who holds the door open for us.
Imperial Guards bow before opening the doors to the Emperor’s suite, and I nod in acknowledgement as we make our way inside. The lamps are turned down low, and it takes a moment for my vision to adjust.
Ivo and Danor stand on either side of the bedposts, staring over at me while Wyrth is bent over the bed, facing the Emperor, where they whisper back and forth. I wait with my hands clasped before my waist for them to register my existence.
The Emperor finally waves Wyrth away, to which the Philosopher rises to his full height and narrows his eyes in my direction as he steps away from the bed.
I bow, and His Majesty raises a document to read with the help of a monocle.
“My little witch. You deign to grace us with your presence.” He releases a breath in exasperation. “Took you long enough.”
“How may I be of service, Your Majesty?”
“I need you to do your duty and fix my mood so that I might sleep peacefully,” he says, rifling through the reading material littering his lap, scattering pieces of paper and various writing instruments which fall to the floor as he seems to seek something specific.
A creeping, crawling sensation works up my back from the prickle of Lorn and Wyrth’s attention as they stare over from separate corners.
The Emperor gives up his search and turns to take hold of the goblet from the side table. He tips it back to empty the last of the remaining wine before raising a pamphlet of some sort up to his face. “Well?” he asks, never lifting his eyes anywhere near my own.
I stifle a yawn and tread closer, preparing to waste my magic on a sorcerer who seems anything but ready for slumber.
Anger from countless nights I’ve been made to do this exact thing—manipulating his mood to aid him in fading into sleep—floods me with grief.
Which isn’t helping as I try to maintain focus so I might get this over with.
He offers his wrist, and I circle my fingers around the white, crepey skin spotted with liver marks and tighten my grip around the ropey veins.
My magic unfurls from me to send tendrils of blue made up of calm, peace, and serenity down my limb to slither inside him.
I force more to enter his form until his muscles slacken and his eyelids grow heavy, bringing my own down with him until his cough startles me to sudden alertness, and I pull in a deep breath to imbue him with more.
Energy pulses between Cirrin’s hand and my shoulder as my compassionate healer contributes his power.
Tears spring to my eyes with gratitude, though I withhold the small smile I wish to share with Cirrin when His Majesty drops the paper from his grip as he drifts into slumber—aided in the end by the one who so frequently ushers me into sleep.
Cirrin continues to support me as much as he can, though healing my body only helps so much when it is my soul that is weary and tired.
The walk back is covered in a haze, and bits and pieces of memory drift along with my consciousness now that we have reached the guest suite.
Varic’s warm hands help to guide me to the bed, and the comfort brought by his presence is a balm as he assists me with settling beneath the covers.
I release a breath as a memory from only a moment ago crosses my mind—
Varic’s amber magic helps to carry me through the halls from the Emperor's suite to this one. His power lifts and supports my drifting form, just like it had before.
While the rest of my Guards have taken care of me to a varying degree, this evening feels different, like the changing of seasons, which can be sensed in the air.
The consideration my Guards have shown me tugs at something.
These sorcerers, who contain vast amounts of knowledge and power between them, while their role is to keep me alive.
Yet they tend to me as if I am something precious.
Allowing me to fall asleep with the unfamiliar feeling of being treasured for something other than my service.
Valued in a way I’ve never fully felt before, and having nothing to do with my power.