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“Please sit,” I said, directing her to the chair she had occupied before she had risen to leave.

She unclasped her hands, rubbing them against her apron before taking a seat.

“I wanted to ask you a question,” I began, strangely feeling just as nervous as she was acting. “Before I do, I want you to know there will be no consequences whatever you decide. I just want you to be honest.”

“If this is about Commander Killian, I can explain,” she blurted out, as if she could barely contain the words.

I was stunned. “What?”

An awkward silence followed. “Is that not what you wished to speak to me about?” she asked, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.

“It is now,” I said and could not help smiling. Then I added, “That is if you wish to tell.”

She fidgeted, twisting her fingers together over and over.

“It was just one kiss,” she said. “I did not mean for it to happen. It never will again, I promise.”

“I hope that isn’t true,” I said. “Unless, of course, that is what you want.”

Violeta looked surprised. “What?”

“Do you like Killian, Violeta?”

She hesitated and her blush deepened. “He is very kind,” she said. “And brave.”

My smile felt ridiculously wide and I giggled. “Then you should most definitely kiss him more than once.”

“You are not…angry?”

“Why would I be angry?”

“I suppose I just assumed you would be, given that you are…close with Commander Killian.”

“Killian is my friend,” I said. “He is free to kiss whoever he likes, as are you.”

She pressed the palms of her hands to her face. “It happened so fast.”

“The kiss?”

“Well, no. The kiss was long.” She paused and then hid her face. “We just got there sooner than I expected.”

After a moment, she dropped her hands into her lap. I was still smiling at her bashfulness—a feeling I had never known. It was cute to watch, and I liked the idea of Killian and Violeta together.

“Commander Killian is a good man,” I said. “He will take care of you…if you wish.”

“Thank you, my queen,” she said and took a breath. “Um, what did you wish to speak to me about?”

I took a moment, mourning that we had to make this transition, but it was important and urgent.

“Do you remember when you told me Evanora was your ancestor?” I asked.

“Yes,” she answered warily, and I saw a hint of her fear—a spark of the trauma we shared deep in her bones.

“Do you have magic, Violeta?” I asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I think if you have to ask, then you likely know,” I said. “I need your help.”