Page 29

CALLYN

After I put Sinna into bed, leaving her with a stack of storybooks and an equally tired Nora, I return to the nursery to put things in order. To my surprise, I find the queen in the darkened room, standing at the window, gazing down at the fields beyond.

“Your Majesty,” I say in surprise. “I can light a lantern—”

“No.” She doesn’t look away from the window. “When Grey first came to Syhl Shallow, I used to stand at this window and watch for him when he was with the soldiers.”

I hesitate in the doorway, wondering if I should give her privacy. She’s so still, her eyes locked on whatever she’s watching.

I haven’t seen her all day, and I think of the way Nora and I quite literally ran into Lord Tycho in the hallway earlier, how he seemed so surprised that there were rumors about his presence. It makes me wonder if she even knew he was here.

“Should I leave you alone?” I say quietly.

“You don’t have to.”

I hesitate, then join her. The training fields are mostly dark, only illuminated by random torches here and there. But as my eyes adjust to the darkness, I make out two men standing far across the fields, close to the fence line that leads to the army barracks. They’re not close to any of the torches, so I can’t determine who they are, but based on the heavy note in the queen’s voice, I assume one is the king.

“I used to leave all the lanterns lit,” she adds. “So he could see me watching.”

But now the room is dark.

I bite at my lip, and I think of the moment my sister launched herself at the queen, giving her a hug in that moment of sorrow.

I can’t be as forward as my sister, but I sense that same sorrow behind her words. Before I can reconsider, I reach out and take hold of the queen’s hand.

She looks at me in surprise—but she grips tight. Her eyes are gleaming in the shadows.

When she finally speaks, her voice is barely more than a whisper. “He hasn’t talked to me in two days.”

As soon as the words are out, she presses her free hand to her mouth and stares back at the fields again. A slow tear rolls down one cheek.

I follow her gaze. Those two figures haven’t moved. I can identify the king now, because he’s taller, a bit more broad through the shoulders.

I knew he wasn’t spending his nights in the royal chambers, but I didn’t realize it had gone so far that he wasn’t speaking to her.

I’m probably not the best person to offer support. They’re the king and queen, and their marriage is more complex than any random romantic pairing in Briarlock.

Not that I’m any kind of expert anyway. I had a longstanding crush on my best friend, who likely feels no attraction for girls at all, and my last intimate encounter was with a man who’s still plotting against the king.

But despite all the complexity of who she is, the queen’s sadness is simple. She’s a woman at odds with the man she loves.

Another tear follows the first.

I give her hand a gentle squeeze. “We could light a lantern now.”

Her breathing hitches, but her fingers still clutch mine. “No.” Her voice is still whisper-quiet. “I don’t want him to know.”

Then it’s like she realizes she’s standing here crying, with me of all people, because she pulls her hand away and swipes at her cheeks.

“Forgive me,” she says. “I should be more composed.”

“You should be whatever you want to be,” I say. “You’re the queen.”

She laughs a little through her tears. “Well, no one expects the queen to be standing at a window, mooning over her husband.”

I hesitate. “May I ask . . . ?” But then I stop.

She swipes at her cheeks again, but she doesn’t stop looking out the window. “Go ahead, Callyn.”

“Why two days? Did . . . ?did something happen?”

“I told him that fears of magic have escalated to a point where what I want and what my people want might differ.”

“And he walked away?”

She begins to shake her head . . . ?but then she nods. “I thought . . . ?I thought we would find a way to move forward. But maybe there isn’t one. He does not want to come between me and my people. He does not want to be the cause of conflict in Syhl Shallow. He said if his continued presence is putting me and Sinna at risk, it puts everyone at risk.” Her voice breaks. “And I couldn’t deny it.”

Then she presses her hands to her eyes, and she’s crying in earnest.

Clouds above. My heart is pounding at what she said—but I can’t stand here and do nothing. I step forward and wrap my arms around her.

She grips me back, sobbing into my shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur. “I’m so sorry.”

I don’t know how long I hold her, but when she finally lifts her head, she looks wrung out and raw.

I gesture to the small table where we play games with little Sinna. “Sit,” I say. “Do you want me to call for tea?”

Again, she shakes her head, but then it turns into a nod. I step away to speak to one of the guards outside the nursery, and then I return to her side.

She glances at the window again. “He’s gone,” she whispers.

I look, and there’s only one man left on the field now.

“Do you know who he was talking to?” I say.

“Tycho.” Her voice is so rough. She swallows. “I haven’t seen him. I didn’t even know he was here until I overheard the guards—” Her voice almost breaks, but she catches herself. “Well. Once I knew the truth, Sinna begged me to go see him. And I almost did. I love him like a brother. But . . . ?but he’s always been so close to Grey. I don’t know what he’d think.”

I hesitate. “I saw him in the hall earlier. I . . . ?I don’t think he thinks anything. He seemed worried about you.”

She gestures at the window and her eyes fill again. “Maybe he was . . . ? but I’m sure Grey has told him everything. He might not want to see me at all.” She takes a steadying breath. “And it’s quite telling that I’ve been given no information about whatever news he brought to the king.”

My eyes are wide. “I could send word . . . ?ask him . . .”

“No.” She shakes her head decisively. “If my people do not want me to show any favoritism for magic, I shouldn’t visit with Tycho either.”

I put a hand over hers again, but I feel woefully out of place here. “Should I fetch one of your advisers . . . ?or perhaps Verin—”

“Definitely not Nolla Verin.” She snorts, and for the first time, a bit of anger slips through the tears. “My sister is pleased ,” she says. “She thinks I should tell Grey to take his army and march back to the other side of the border.”

My heart stumbles when she says that. “Are you going to?” I ask, my voice hushed.

“Of course not.” But there’s something to the way she says it that tells me she’s not quite sure. Her voice goes small again. “But I didn’t expect him to withdraw from me so completely. I know he loves me. I know he loves Sinna. But I . . . ?I worry that he might be preparing to leave on his own.”

If the king leaves, I wonder what that would do to the alliance between Emberfall and Syhl Shallow. He’s the king there, and she’s the queen here. But if they part ways, I have no idea what would happen. We were at war before they married. My mother died in that war. So did Alek’s.

Is the presence of magic so terrible that the citizens of Syhl Shallow are willing to go back to war to get rid of it?

Or . . . ?maybe a war has already begun, and I simply haven’t acknowledged it. I think of the terrible battle in Briarlock. Does the queen think that kind of attack will continue if the king is still here in Syhl Shallow?

Fears of magic have escalated to a point where what I want and what my people want might differ.

Yes. She does.

But Emberfall won many victories by virtue of the magic that flows through the king’s veins. He might love her , but if the people attack, what’s to stop him from using that magic against us all?

I stroke at the pendant under my tunic, wondering how much of this will turn into gossip as more and more people realize how long it’s been since the king and queen were seen together.

I look at the queen, thinking of that moment in Briarlock when Tycho declared that people who’d worn the specially charmed Iishellasan rings would have access to his same magic.

“ You have magic,” I whisper to her.

She looks away. “No, I don’t, Callyn.”

But she does. I know she does. I watched her heal Nora in Briarlock, with a beautiful scraver lending magic to assist.

Unless . . . unless I’m the one who healed Nora. I’ve felt that same magic flow through my veins, and I know I didn’t imagine it.

I still haven’t admitted that to the queen, but it’s a secret we both carry. I speak carefully. “Perhaps if the people knew magic existed in their queen, you could—”

“They’d try to kill me again.” Her voice is full of iron when she says this. “They’d try even harder. They’d blame him for poisoning me with his abilities.” She pauses, and her eyes bore into mine. “I have no magic , Callyn.”

That’s not a declaration. It’s a warning.

I think of the king healing my injuries every time Verin is too rough, or the way he showed me how to block a punch. I think of how gentle he is with little Sinna—the same gentleness I’m sure he shows toward the queen. It’s a completely different side to the man than I ever considered—and never would have seen , if not for everything that happened in Briarlock. I can understand why so many people hate him, because I did, too. For so long! But I know now that a lot of our fear of magic is also wrapped up in prejudice against a country that killed so many of our people.

But I try to imagine how people would respond to the queen if she demonstrated these same benefits. If she used her gentle kindness when healing the people or protecting her daughter.

Is she right? Would they try to kill her?

Or would they see the benefits of magic instead of just the harms?

Her eyes are fierce, though. On this, it’s clear she won’t yield.

So I nod, matching her gaze with equal intensity. “Yes, Your Majesty. I must have been mistaken.”

A flicker of worry lights in her eyes. “You’ve said nothing to Alek about . . . about what might have happened?”

I shake my head quickly. “Nothing at all.”

“Do you still trust him?”

I think of the way he pressed his mouth to mine. The way he convinced me of his innocence so easily.

I spent hours lying in bed trying to unravel his words, looking for somewhere he might have tricked me.

But there was nothing. At no point did he have to seduce me, as he said.

I nod. “On this, I do.”

“Then go to see him tomorrow. Tell him where things stand.” Another tear slides down her cheek, but her eyes are clear and sharp. Her voice has lost any hint of a tremor, and this time she reaches out to squeeze my hand.

It reminds me of the night I found her in my barn, when everything seemed bleak and hopeless—and she stood up to the soldiers who were threatening her and her child. Queen Lia Mara might be in distress, but she’s still in control.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” I say. “Should I tell him anything else?”

She nods. “Let him know his queen doesn’t need sanctuary. Instead, I might need a powerful ally—and a lot sooner than I thought.”