Chapter 5 The Stroke of Midnight #3
Luci nearly choked on the air, but what came out inside was a small snort that was mortifying. Prince Ira’s eyes widened, and he ran a hand over his face, mumbling to himself about saying stupid things.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-.”
Luci held up a finger. “Nope, you can’t take it back now. It’s already been spoken.”
The smile she was holding back was burning the inside of her lips, but the prince, who was so charming and perfect, fumbling for the right apology, was enough entertainment that she simply couldn’t put him out of his misery.
“I-” his face twisted like he was in physical pain.
For a moment, a small and wicked part of Luci enjoyed letting him struggle for the right words to redeem himself, but then again, she was pretending to be someone other than herself, so fair was fair.
“It’s fine.. You didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. I mean, Max seems like a smart kid.”
Relief flooded his features as he took a deep breath.
It probably wasn’t often that the crown prince felt discomfort, but then again, there was something different about him.
Something unexpected. It was in the way he ran his fingers over his clean-shaven chin and upper lip when he was thinking about something that puzzled him.
It was in the way he talked about his little brother, who was all sharp edges with an air to him that was unique.
Likely easily misunderstood, but not by his older brother, who only had kind things to say.
“You and your father-” he began, hesitant.
“It’s complicated,” she answered, knowing that there was nothing she could say on the subject without backing herself into a corner.
Prince Ira shrugged his shoulders. “Fair enough.”
Silence stretched between them, and the absurdity of the situation she was in wrapped around her throat, cutting off her air.
Anxiety fresh and abundant ran through her veins, reminding her who she was and who waited for her.
Brielle. Anything could have happened in the time she was gone.
Yes, there were enough tonics, but what if something else happened, and Luci could have prevented it by being there?
Wringing her hands together, Luci took an involuntary step to the door.
“I need to go.” Luci breathed out through her panic.
Lips thinning, Prince Ira considered her before holding up one finger. “Can I show you one more thing before we rejoin the blood thirsty- I mean nobility?”
Despite herself, Luci snorted at the carefully placed insult.
She knew what he was doing, trying to put her at ease, and if she told the truth, it would be to say that her chest lightened the slightest bit.
Her breathing is just a tiny bit smoother.
It was inexplicable, but it was also the reason she nodded once.
Taking the hand that he offered, she threaded her arms through his and swallowed hard. Maybe it was because he was a prince, but there was something that drew her to him against her best intentions. A magnetic draw that she had never experienced except when it came to Brielle.
Brielle’s voice rang in her ears, telling her that some people are connected by strings.
Golden threads that hum with long-lasting magic that tie their souls to one another.
It was an antiquated philosophy born out of a need to believe in something bigger than the short-lived lives they were given.
If there was magic, then there was meaning. Something more.
As they walked through the empty halls lit by sconces and flickering flames, Luci was struck by how much Brielle would have loved it all. Would have loved this night and every moment in between.
They came to a large set of doors, and maybe she was mistaken, but she could have sworn Prince Ira took a long, shaky breath.
Before she could question it, he stepped forward and pushed the door open.
All at once, the enormity of where he had taken her set in, and she took a step back that was halted by his hand at the small of her back.
“Every day, we receive thousands of petitions to come to this room. Thousands of people have lived their whole lives hoping to set foot in it.” He ran his eyes over her, assessing, before a small smile worked its way onto his lips. “But you, you take a step back from it.”
Her throat was thick when she tried to swallow. Something in her recoiled from the dozens of mirrors that surrounded the room.
“Almost like you might just believe in magic,” he teased.
“Caution is a healthy attribute,” she said, eyeing the room as if it were a hoard of snakes.
Everything in her was holding her back straight, and her feet were firmly planted on the ground. It was a warning shot in the dark, a story said at night to keep misbehaving children obedient and pliable. All she knew was that if she stepped into that room, she would not come out the same.
“You feel it, don’t you?” he whispered into her ear.
His voice was cajoling, promising. Like if she were only brave enough to hold out her hand, he would give her the world.
Yet instead of the charming prince, he felt more like the wicked stepmother offering a poisoned apple dressed in promises and hope.
All the allure and the heady music of the night gathered around this moment.
“Not everyone feels its pull.” He said. “They say that the magic has to find worthiness to show itself.”
Luci slowly turned her head to face him and found a hunger in his gaze that would have stripped her bare had she been anything other than what she was.
“Have you ever felt it?” she asked, mouth dry.
With roguish charm, the corner of his mouth shot up, smile crooked and dimpled.
“Not until tonight.”
The words were spoken like a prayer whispered. Whether they were true or not, he believed them. There were some things Luci knew, and one of those was people. If he were lying, she would have known.
“Then you go in,” she said.
“It isn’t there for me. I’ve spent my whole life standing in the middle of those mirrors, searching for what was expected of me. Not once have I felt the pull that others said was there. In fact, much like you, I was skeptical. Not anymore.”
Luci blew out a shaky breath and held her hands in a tight ball to keep from trembling. “What makes a person worthy?” she asked.
The mirrors were arranged one after another, linked together. Above and below were round sheets of glass that perfectly reflected everything they saw. Anyone who stepped into their watchful gaze would find that they could not hide from themselves.
Prince Ira pulled away and stepped to the side of the room, kicking his foot up and leaning against the wall. As if this were any other moment.
“Max says that it’s less about being worthy and more about what the magic wants.”
“So we are going on the word of a seven-year-old,” she said, staring at the room.
A gentle laugh. “He’s very convincing.”
Luci bit her lip, debating. Brielle would never have hesitated.
She would have run into that room full speed ahead without a second thought.
Brave and careless. It wasn’t who Luci was, but at the same time, Brielle might never forgive her for spurning the opportunity.
More than that, there was the ugly truth.
The feeling of wanting to know pressed down on her shoulders and left an itch in her feet.
If she didn’t take the next step, she might always regret it, which was a risk she wasn’t willing to take.
Regret was something she tried very hard to avoid at all opportunities.
Cocking her head to the side, she met the prince’s cool eyes. “Well, are you coming?”
That arrogant smile fell, and for a moment, something powerful and overwhelming ran over his face. There and gone, but its memory is potent. This meant something to him. Whether it was finally feeling the magic or something else, this moment was important to him.
“No, I think my presence would be more of a-” he searched for the word, “-deterrent.”
It didn’t make perfect sense, but little about this evening did. Which was probably why Luci lifted her foot off the ground and took the next three steps.
As her heeled foot touched the glass floor, a humming ripped through her ears, and then there were no more steps. Only a demanding pull that came from her stomach like a fish on a hook. The magic demanded its sacrifice, and Luci was helpless to its call.
Everything went dark as the striking of a clock resounded in the distance.