Chapter 16 Kieran #2
“I understand. After my parents died, I couldn’t drink from the goblet my father loved most. It sits untouched in the cabinet, a reminder of what I lost.”
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Me too for you.” I wanted to share everything with her, but it was sad that the first thing we talked about this morning was the loss of our parents. “But I didn’t come here to make you feel bad.”
“It’s alright. I like talking about them. It makes them feel alive again.”
She ate, the morning light spilling across the table between us. Quandary claimed a slice of apple and gnawed on it, grunting with joy.
“How are the advisor meetings going?” Cyrene asked. “Any progress with the border disputes?”
I raised an eyebrow. “You want to discuss politics over breakfast?”
“I want to discuss your kingdom. Our kingdom now. If I’m to be a queen in more than name, I should understand what’s happening.”
I stared at her in awe. “You truly want to know?”
“Of course.” She sipped her tea, watching me over the rim of her cup. “Tell me what keeps the vampire king awake at night, besides his troublesome witch-wife.”
“The southern border has been quiet since our wedding, which is promising. The trade agreements with the wolf shifter settlements are proceeding better than expected.”
“Have there been troubles there?”
“More so before I was crowned. My father couldn’t abide shifters of any kind.”
“And you?”
“They’re people like you and me.”
She nodded. “And the vampire nobles? Have they accepted your new stance?”
“Some more readily than others.”
“Less so with the witchy community.”
“Your display at the ball went a long way toward convincing them of your suitability.”
Her low laugh rang out. “Yes, well. I aim to impress.”
“You succeeded.” I took a bite of my own breakfast, considering my next words carefully.
“My vision for this kingdom has always been evolution, not stagnation. Vampires have isolated themselves for too long, clinging to outdated traditions out of fear. I want to build something new, a realm where we can coexist with all species, where strength doesn’t come from intimidation but cooperation. ”
“That’s why you agreed to the alliance with my family,” she said, understanding dawning in her eyes.
“It was one reason. Though not the only one.”
Her gaze dropped to our still-joined hands. “You knew who I was before you accepted.”
“Not at first, but your grandmother sent an image. My joy witch from the festival.”
“I’m glad you accepted.”
“Truly?” I studied her face but found no hint of her holding anything back.
“More so this morning.”
“It’s my tongue, right?” I quipped.
Her lips trembled, and her eyes sparkled. “You do have a magical tongue.”
And I couldn’t wait to show it to her again.
Her attention shifted beyond me. “Oh, hello, Cordelia.”
I turned, seeing nothing but empty air. “You two have made up?”
Cyrene leaned closer, lowering her voice. “This is the first time I’ve seen her since last evening. She says she’s miffed with me, but she’ll forgive me this time.”
“Every time,” I growled. I wouldn’t allow anyone to make my wife feel sad.
Cyrene signed. “Really?” She rolled her eyes. “Alright.” Her gaze met mine. “She says you look less constipated today. I think that’s her way of saying you seem happy. The blue shirt that matches your eyes could be part of the reason.”
I snorted. “Please convey my thanks for her assessment.”
“She can hear you.” Cyrene’s lips twitched. “She says you’re welcome, and that perhaps she should’ve studied medicine instead of literature. She might’ve made a better diagnostician than a poet.”
“I wasn’t aware she wrote poetry.”
“Oh yes. Terrible poetry, though those are her own words. She’s reciting some now, something about blood and moonlight and eternal despair. Very vampire-appropriate.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “I wish I could see her.”
“She’s quite dramatic,” Cyrene said. “Lots of flowing ghostly garments and elaborate hand gestures.”
I glanced at the empty space again, imagining a vampire from a prior generation with theatrical tendencies.
“Has she been keeping you company?” I asked, nodding toward where I imagined Cordelia might be standing.
“When she’s not haunting the east wing,” Cyrene said. “She’s quite good company, actually. She makes me laugh when I’m struggling with spells.”
“Speaking of which…” I nodded toward the overturned plant. “Is dancing vegetation the latest trend in joy magic?”
She groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I was trying to enchant it to grow faster. Apparently my magic had other ideas.”
“It did dance well, for a plant.”
Quandary made a sound suspiciously like a snort.
“Everyone’s a critic,” Cyrene muttered, glaring at her companion. “As if you could do better.”
The small drake lifted his head, then pushed her teacup an inch to the left with his tail.
“He says your magic lacks focus,” I said, though I had no idea if that’s what the creature meant. “Too much emotion, not enough precision.”
Quandary bobbed his head in agreement.
“Oh, so you speak drake now?” Cyrene raised an eyebrow, but her lips twitched. “Next you’ll be telling me you understand ghost poetry too.”
“I’m a man of many talents.” I leaned back in my chair, enjoying the banter between us. “Some of which you’ve recently discovered.”
Her cheeks flushed that delicious pink again. “Shameless.”
“Accurate. Would you like me to demonstrate again?”
Quandary made a gagging sound and dramatically flopped onto his side.
Cyrene’s laugh bubbled up, bright and infectious. “Not in front of the children, apparently.”
“He can leave.”
“He says he was here first.”
I glanced at the drake, who was now pointedly grooming his wings with an air of indifference that couldn’t quite hide the amused gleam in his eyes.
“Touché,” I said. “Though I reserve the right to revisit this conversation later in private.”
“I’ll consider your petition.” She sipped her tea, her eyes dancing with mischief over the rim. “Though I should warn you, my magic’s still unpredictable. Side effects may include spontaneous levitation, minor weather phenomena, and turning nearby objects into musical instruments.”
“This sounds wonderful.” My smile came through in my voice.
“Aren’t you frightened?”
“Terrified.” I caught her hand, kissing her knuckles. “And entirely willing to risk it.”
Her breath caught, and for a moment, we simply looked at each other, the air between us charged with something I was too scared to define.
Quandary broke the spell by knocking over the salt shaker.
“I should let you get back to work.” I rose from my chair. “I’ve kept you from your joy magic long enough.”
Cyrene stood as well, coming around the table. “Thank you for breakfast. It was perfect.” She rose onto her toes and kissed my cheek. The gesture unraveled me completely.
When she pulled back, I had to resist the urge to capture her mouth properly.
“You’re welcome,” I croaked out.
She smiled, a knowing gleam in her golden eyes. “I’ll see you later?”
“Count on it.”
I gathered the breakfast tray, painfully aware of her watching me as I headed for the stairs. As I descended, her humming resumed, the sweet melody following me down the spiral steps.
In the hallway below, I paused, noticing something new. Tiny golden flowers had sprouted along the stone walls, their petals catching the light. They hadn’t been there this morning. I was certain of it.
As I continued through the castle, I saw more evidence of Cyrene’s presence.
The normally gloomy corridors seemed brighter.
In the great hall, the ancient tapestries depicting vampire victories now shimmered with threads of gold that hadn’t been there before, and more than half of my ancestors were smiling.
Even the guards at their posts seemed less severe, all nodding and grinning as I passed.
Her joy magic was seeping into the bones of my kingdom, transforming it breath by breath.
“Ah, there you are, Sire.” Captain Brishon strode over to join me. “We have an issue.”
“What kind of issue?”
He glanced around but we were alone. Leaning close, he spoke in a low voice. “One of the chambermaids was found unconscious in the garden.”
“Is she alright?”
He nodded.
“Unconscious? Not just sleeping?”
“It was difficult to rouse her.”
“Could she explain why? A health issue, perhaps?”
“Much of her life energy had been drained, and she had strange gray markings on her skin.”
Unease rose inside me. “You’re saying her magic was drained.”
“Yes. She’s much better now. We took her to the healers immediately and they said with care and rest, she’ll be able to slowly restore her magic.”
“Do you believe this is an isolated incident?”
“Perhaps.” Yet his frown didn’t go away.
“Ask the staff to remain in groups of at least two.”
“That might prove a challenge with the visitors expected for the next ball.”
“Then hire more,” I said. “We must keep everyone safe.”
“Very well, Your Majesty.”
“Also double the guard. I want regular patrols. See if you can discover who may be responsible.”
He bowed deeply. “I will.”
“Thank you.”
Turning, he left and I continued on to the kitchen to return the tray.
“I take it Her Majesty enjoyed breakfast?” the head cook asked.
I shrugged off my worry about what might be going on here in the castle. Brishon would get to the bottom of it. “She did.”
My gaze caught on a small pot of golden flowers by the kitchen window, identical to those growing in the hallway. Cyrene’s magic again, spreading life and warmth wherever she went.
As I left the kitchen to attend my meetings, I realized something had changed inside me. For years, I’d believed that to be strong for my kingdom, I needed to be solemn and untouchable.
But looking around at the subtle transformations taking place, I saw what I’d been starving for all along. Joy wasn’t weakness. It was strength of an entirely different kind, a way of facing the darkness and saying, I see you, I acknowledge you, but I refuse to let you consume me.
It was what Cyrene had given me at the festival six years ago, what she was giving my kingdom now. What I’d been missing, even when I couldn’t name it.
And I would spend the rest of my days making sure she never regretted sharing it with me.