Page 27

“Astral magic isn’t just about fire or the sun—there are other elements to it. It’s natural, remarkable. Beautiful.” Holding her left palm up, she used her right index finger and swirled it through the air. “ Tyleiri .”

A green stem sprouted from her hand, grew to the height of six inches, then blossomed into a rose.

He gasped. “So, now you can produce flowers.”

She laughed. “I’ve read through almost all the books I took from the palace, and they all focus on nature and energy, which the sun provides. If you think about it, there isn’t any limit to my power as long as it is natural. ”

Shifting to face her, one leg thrown over the log, he pressed his mouth into a tight line.

The thought of Filip taking her away from him, forcing her to do whatever he pleased, sent hot waves of rage shooting through his core.

He fought to keep his emotions in check as he said, "If there is no limit to your power, Filip could do anything he wanted with you. I swear it now, in front of all gods, I won’t let him near you. ”

Despite the sturdiness of his voice, his chest tightened.

He’d sooner rather tear Filip’s throat out then let him press Adelina into his service.

As if noticing his inner turmoil, she traced her thumb lightly over the frown between his brows.

“We have each other now. As long as we’re together, we will be all right. ”

He closed his eyes, taking her hand in his and pressing it to his lips. “Tell me more about your magic—whatever you know. Perhaps it’ll quell my nerves.”

“Well.” She smiled as she picked up a stick and prodded the fire. “It’s only a theory, but I think I could help farmers with their crops, help them grow more. I’m not sure if I’m strong enough yet to produce vegetation in large quantities and I’d need to practise more in the prism world.”

His tense shoulders relaxed a fraction as he let out a breath. “I’m sure the farmers would be grateful for your help even if there is a population crisis.”

Silence hung between them for a moment. Damir pictured what their life could’ve been like.

A small cottage in the village, with him working as a carpenter, and she as a seamstress or whatever else she fancied.

Together, they would help their neighbours with small yet bountiful harvests they grew in the fields near Aramoor.

But as quickly as the pleasant image had formed, it disappeared, and he was left with an empty sensation in the pit of his stomach.

He dragged a hand down the side of his face.

“I’m sorry, I can’t shake this…rage. Filip spent so long looking for you, and he isn’t likely to back down from finding you—and keeping you.

Maybe it’s selfish, but I’ve had you for a matter of a few days, as a wife, I mean.

I have no intentions of letting you go.”

“I know.” She kissed him, stroking the side of his face. The taught muscles in his jaw relaxed beneath her touch. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He rose, then offered her his hand.

“I’ve got a suggestion: Perhaps you can offer these villages something else instead.

Some flowers here and there, a few more vegetables growing in their house gardens, a flame to light their torches, or anything else to make their simple days seem a little better or easier. ”

“A lovely thought.” She accepted his offer, and he guided her into the centre of the glade.

With his arm on her waist, he led her in a slow dance, wanting to provide her with a moment of escapism as well as for himself. The orange glow of fire lit the bridge of her nose. The shadows turned her eyes to deep pools of brown.

“What are you doing?” She giggled. “We have no music.”

“Listen closely,” he said in a hushed tone, a playful grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “The rustle of the leaves and the undergrowth, the sigh of wind through the trees. An owl hoot in the distance. The life of the forest is our music. ”

“How poetic.” She blushed, pushed on to her tiptoes, and kissed him again.

∞∞∞

Filip’s carriage came to a sharp halt on the path outside Aramoor. He leapt from the seat, landing on the cobbles with a dull thud. Several other carriages stopped nearby, his guards gathering around him like a small army.

“Speak to the locals. Extract whatever information you can via any means necessary,” Filip said with as much calmness as he could muster. “Keep everyone alive. I’m going to pay my old friend, Pyotr, a visit.”

The bustling markets of Aramoor were silenced by the heavy clomping of Filip’s boots against cobblestones. Cautious gazes met his glare as the locals slowed to a halt, observing him as he wandered through the market.

His guards dispersed throughout the village but returned empty handed. Worse, no one had seen Adelina recently at all. It was down to him to find his own answers to her whereabouts.

Pressing his lips together, he considered where his old acquaintance, Pyotr, might be—his address unknown to him.

There was no point in demanding answers from Adelina and Damir’s family—they wouldn’t give them to him.

Although he could use techniques more persuasive in extracting information, it could amount to a lot of wasted time.

If he could get his hands on somebody malleable— someone like Pyotr—he could obtain information a lot quicker.

Filip understood, from his experience of working with Pyotr, that he was the type of man to do what he must to secure his own wealth and position. Surely, the man would be around here somewhere.

A whiff of hops and yeast wafted from the tavern near the market. It was the middle of the day, so the taphouse was almost empty. A few locals sat at wooden tables positioned outside, steins of beer in hand.

“Afternoon. Do you know a man by the name of Pyotr Lebedev?” Filip approached the patrons.

“He’s inside, all right.” A dark-haired man nodded towards the entrance. “You’ll find him at his usual table.”

Filip thanked the man, then slipped into the brightly lit tavern.

A middle-aged woman with tied back brown hair wiped the tables.

His heavy boots against the creaking floorboards broke the silence of the quiet room, and his gaze caught a man hunched over a pint.

Pyotr drew the stein to his lips and gulped.

“It’s been some time,” Filip said, which lifted Pyotr’s glassy gaze from the table to him.

“Filip.” Pyotr raised a brow, his head lolling to the side.

“Good to see you.” Filip inhaled the stench of stale alcohol on the man. “May I join you?”

“Sure.” Pyotr slurred.

“How’ve you been?” Filip slipped into the chair opposite.

“Well,” Pyotr said .

Filip checked his pocket watch for confirmation—it was barely lunchtime, and this man was drunk already. The local outside referred to this as Pyotr’s usual spot, and if Filip could use his drunkenness to his advantage, he might have a smoother time in finding his lost sorceress.

“Are your family well?” Filip said.

Pyotr made a half-hearted attempt at narrowing his gaze on him. “W-what’s with all t-the questions?”

Creating a steeple with his hands, Filip rested his arms on the table. “I can offer you a substantial amount of money for your cooperation, Pyotr.”

“W-what would I n-need money for?” Pyotr gulped a mouthful of beer, then waved the barwoman over. “I’ll take another. Bring one for my f-friend too.”

She eyed him before trudging over to the bar to refill the steins.

“It’s the middle of the day, Pyotr. What about your job?” Filip said.

“Turns out administration isn’t for me,” Pyotr said. “Used to manage the books in the post office, keeping track of the parcels and letters coming in and out.”

“I need your help,” Filip said. “And I’m willing to pay substantially.”

“What could you p-possibly want m-my help with?” Pyotr wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as the serving lady arrived with their fresh steins of beer.

Filip nodded in thanks, then sipped his drink.

“The local girl—Adelina—is missing. I need your assistance in locating her and reassigning her to the bosom of the palace where she will be safe. Should any ill befall the girl, plans to unite the countries will be implicated—she, and her powers, are being relied on, therefore, she is of great value to me and the kingdom. Do you understand?”

Pyotr shrugged. “I s-saw her the day of the spring equinox.”

“Yes, she returned home for the festivities.” Filip waved his hand. “What of it?”

“She and the carpenter boy…” Pyotr gulped his beer, collapsed back against the chair, and closed his eyes.

Leaning across the table, Filip snapped his fingers in front of the drunkard’s face. “I’ve heard you have a great deal of debt now, Pyotr. My money can rid you of your problems. I’ll send money to your wife and child.”

Indeed, he’d been aware of his ex-employee’s addictions. Gossip travelled between staff, even though Pyotr was no longer in service.

Pyotr’s eyes flashed open. “Deal.”

“Now, tell me what you know of Adelina and the boy,” Filip said. “Is it Damir?”

“Yes.” Pyotr swallowed another large mouthful of beer—beads of the liquid spilling from the corner of his lips.

“Go home. Sober up,” Filip said. “Our horses need to be watered and fed, and the guards and I are yet to have dinner. You will meet me at the entrance of this village tomorrow at dawn.”

“Will I be accompanying you?” Pyotr’s eyebrow lifted.

“If you wish to receive further money for your assistance, yes.” Filip rose, shoving his chair aside, then left the tavern before Pyotr could say another word.

Sighing, Filip dragged a hand over his face as he stepped into the sunlight. His patience had worn thin—Pyotr having tested his last nerve—and the sooner he could leave the dreary village, the better.

∞∞∞