Chapter 22 Cyrene
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CYRENE
The lantern mocked me.
It was the day of the ball, and I still felt no closer to preparing the decorations I’d promised.
I stared at the delicate glass orb cupped between my palms, willing my magic to take hold. Golden light flickered from my fingertips, swirling into the vessel with promising brightness, only to sputter and fade seconds later, leaving nothing but a cold, empty shell.
“Fates take it.” I set the lantern down hard, wincing when it wobbled on my workbench. That would be fitting, failing to enchant it, then breaking it for good measure.
Cordelia tutted from where she floated nearby. “You were so close. You almost did it!”
Almost wasn’t going to cut it. This was the sixth attempt on this particular lantern. The ball started in three hours, and I still had a few more to finish. At this rate, the vampire nobility would dance in darkness.
So sorry, Quandary said from his perch nearby. I’m helping all I can, but you’re pushing too hard.
“He’s right,” Cordelia said. “The magic won’t flow if you’re strangling it.”
I sighed. “This shouldn’t be so difficult. Joy magic is the one thing I’ve always been able to do.”
I sank onto my stool, exhaustion settling into my bones.
Outside my tower window, the castle grounds bustled with activity.
Carriages rolled through the gates, disgorging nobles in their finery.
Servants scurried about with flowers and candles.
Everyone was preparing for the grand event where I would either prove myself worthy of being Kieran’s queen or fail spectacularly in front of the entire court.
No pressure.
Quandary flew to my shoulder, snuggling against my neck. I’ve searched everywhere. The east wing, the crypts, even the servants’ quarters. No sign of who’s been draining your magic.
“Sadly, my hauntings have also not yielded any clues, and believe me, I’ve tried.”
I stroked Quandary’s head. “It’s not your fault. Not yours either, Cordelia. Your support means a lot to me.”
His wings drooped. I should’ve found something. Someone.
“We’ll figure it out.” I tried to sound confident, though my wavering lantern light suggested otherwise. “Maybe after tonight, when the dance is done, we can focus on tracking down whoever’s behind this.”
If we make it through tonight.
What if I couldn’t perform the dance? My magic could fail completely, and then I’d embarrass Kieran in front of his entire court.
I picked up the lantern again, determined to make it work. This time, I closed my eyes, searching deep within for the wellspring of joy that had always fueled my magic.
Images flickered in my mind. My sisters laughing in the garden. Grandmother teaching me my first spell. The festival where I’d met Kieran, his smile bright when he delivered my breakfast tray, something that had turned into an everyday occurrence.
More recent memories. Kieran’s face as he showed me his kingdom. His hands steady as he taught me the dance steps. The warmth in his eyes when he looked at me across a room. The way he held me at night.
“That’s it,” Cordelia said softly. “Now you’re doing it.”
Warmth bloomed in my chest, and golden light spilled from my fingertips into the lantern. For a moment, it glowed brilliantly. Then it faltered, dimming to a pale shadow of what it should be.
“This is hopeless.” I set the lantern down again, fighting back tears. “Maybe I don’t belong here after all.”
But that was wrong. I did belong here, with Kieran, and in this strange castle that was slowly becoming home. But if I couldn’t even maintain simple joy enchantments, what use was I as a magical ally?
“Now that’s just nonsense, dear.” Lady Cordelia spiraled up to the ceiling, then floated around my workshop, her silk robes trailing behind her like storm clouds. “I’ve been watching your efforts. Quite the stubborn little light, isn’t it?”
“It’s not the lantern that’s failing.” I gestured halfheartedly. “It’s me.”
Cordelia clicked her tongue. “Your light is being leached, dear. That’s not weakness, that’s theft.
” She drifted closer, her cool fingers lifting my chin until I met her gaze.
“Someone is draining you deliberately, and yet here you sit, still trying to create beauty. If anything, that demonstrates extraordinary strength.”
“Not enough strength to make it work, though.”
“Perhaps you’re approaching it wrong.” She picked up the lantern, turning it in the light. “You’re pouring more and more magic into it, trying to overpower whatever is draining you.”
“Isn’t that what I should do?”
“Not necessarily.” A knowing smile curved her lips. “Sometimes the strongest magic comes from where you draw your power, not from how much power you use.”
Quandary perked up on my shoulder. She makes a good point. You’re using your own reserves, but what about the connection you share with Kieran?
Cordelia’s eyes glowed. “See? I’m right.” She tapped the lantern with one long fingernail. “You and Kieran have created quite a bond. I can see it shimmering around you, even now.”
My cheeks warmed. “We’ve been practicing the dance.”
“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Her laugh tinkled like silver bells. “Your magic and his have begun to intertwine. Why not use that connection to stabilize your creations?”
It was a compelling idea. The way our magic had merged during our more intimate moments had been powerful, unlike anything I’d experienced before. But…
“I need to do this myself,” I said firmly. “Tonight is about proving I belong here, that I’m worthy of being his queen. Not about how well I can borrow his power.”
Cordelia’s expression softened. “Oh, child. No one said anything about borrowing. The magic between you isn’t his or yours anymore; it’s something new altogether. Something shared.”
Quandary nuzzled my cheek. I could fetch Kieran. He’ll come if I ask.
“No.” I squared my shoulders. “He has his own preparations for tonight. I need to handle this.”
“Pride and stubbornness. Such delicious qualities in a queen.” Cordelia glanced at the window. “Speaking of preparations, shouldn’t you be dressing for the ball? It’s nearly time.”
My stomach dropped. “But the lanterns—”
“Will wait.” She swept her arm toward the door. “First, you become the queen. Then you’ll find your magic flows more easily.”
I hesitated, looking at my half-finished work scattered across the bench. Abandoning them felt like admitting defeat.
“Trust an old vampire who’s seen more court politics than you’ve had birthdays,” Cordelia said gently. “Tonight isn’t about lanterns. It’s about you standing beside your king.”
With a sigh, I nodded. “You’re right.”
“I always am.” Her impish smile returned. “Now, let’s make you so breathtaking that every vampire in that ballroom forgets to brood.”
My chambers had been transformed while I was gone. Fragrant flowers filled crystal vases, their sweet scent mingling with the vanilla and cinnamon of magic-infused candles. A steaming bath waited, flower petals floating on the surface.
“Kieran’s doing?” I asked as I shed my work gown.
Cordelia nodded, helping me into the bath. “He may have mentioned you’d been working too hard.”
The hot water embraced me like a lover, easing tension from muscles I hadn’t realized were knotted. I sank deeper, letting my hair fan out around me.
“He worries about you.” Cordelia poured scented oil into the water. “It’s refreshing, really. Most kings worry only about their kingdoms.”
“He cares for his people.”
“Yes, but he loves you.”
My heart stuttered at the word neither of us had spoken aloud yet. “He hasn’t said that.”
“Men rarely do until they’re certain their feelings are returned.” She gave me a pointed look. “Are they?”
I stared at the water, watching the play of light on its surface. “It’s complicated.”
“Only because you make it so. Love is the simplest magic of all.”
Was it that simple? The tight feeling in my chest whenever Kieran smiled at me. The way my skin came alive under his touch. The sense of rightness when we were together.
“I’ve loved him since the festival,” I said quietly. “Even when I hated him for leaving, it didn’t fade.”
Cordelia’s smile was so gentle it made my heart ache. “The best loves often begin with second chances.”
I stepped from the bath, dried, and tugged on a dressing gown. As Cordelia dried my hair with gentle hands, I found myself relaxing from her motherly attention.
“I appreciate you helping me,” I said. “Most of the court seems determined to see me fail.”
“Most of the court are fools.” She began brushing my hair in long, soothing strokes. “As for helping, it’s been a delight. I’ve watched Kieran carry the weight of the kingdom alone for six years. The boy never smiles. Or he didn’t until you arrived. This means a lot to me.”
With a flick of her finger, she used magic to work silver combs into my dark hair, arranging it in an elaborate style that left my neck bare, a deliberate choice in vampire society, because it indicated trust.
“Besides,” she said. “I do so enjoy watching pompous nobles squirm when their plans go awry.”
A soft knock at the door interrupted us. A servant entered, carrying a large box tied with silver ribbon.
“From His Majesty,” she said with a curtsy, placing it carefully on the bed before departing.
Cordelia’s eyes gleamed. “Shall we see what your king has sent?”
My fingers trembled as I untied the ribbon and lifted the lid. A gown unlike any I’d ever seen lay under layers of silk cloth.
I lifted it carefully, gasping as it unfurled.
It had been crafted in midnight blue, the color of Kieran’s eyes when he looked at me in our most intimate moments.
Silver embroidery swirled across the bodice and down the skirt in patterns that mimicked both vampire sigils and the flowing symbols of joy magic.
When the light caught it right, the threads seemed to move, as if they were alive.
“It’s beautiful,” I whispered.