Page 34 of Stolen Magic (All That Glitters #2)
“Accusing?” He pinned me with the full force of his dark, unyielding gaze. “I’m stating fact. She’s not merely curious—she’s searching for something, and I want to know what.”
Unbidden, an image surfaced: her attempts to rise from her bed with a desperation that extended beyond her illness, her insistences that she needed to find something. Every instinct urged me to defend her, but Father could see through even the subtlest deflection.
At my stubborn silence, he arched a brow. “Still too sentimental to see reason? Then allow me to present additional evidence.” He gestured to the chest. “Do you know what this is?”
I did, but I would give anything not to.
He didn’t await my response. “This,” he said, unfastening the latches, “is a fragment of what her family once ruled. Broken, contained, and most importantly, controlled .”
A shimmer rose from within as the lid creaked open, distorting the air, as if light bent strangely around it. I could feel it humming, power ancient and potent, like standing near a lightning storm.
“Magic,” I breathed.
His smile was thin. “And it’s ours . Won in blood, sealed by treaty. Her kingdom surrendered it to us in exchange for protection after the rebellion destroyed their bloodline’s ability to wield it safely.”
I stared down at the faint pulse radiating from the chest. “Are you suggesting that’s why she’s here?”
“She’s here as a peace offering, a powerless symbol with a crown.
So long as she remains just that, I’ll honor the treaty.
” His gaze sharpened. “But if we have a spy in our midst and she’s trying to reclaim this…
I will not hesitate to revoke our agreement, nor will you be spared if you continue shielding her. Need I be more clear?”
Gwen, a spy? I yearned to dismiss the accusation outright…yet something held me back. The same uncertainty that had been shadowing me ever since her arrival whispered again, quiet and insistent.
I couldn’t speak. A storm roared inside me, shaking loose the assumptions I’d held since our engagement had first been arranged.
“She doesn’t know what she’s meddling with,” Father said, voice low. “And neither do you.” With a resounding click, he shut the chest. “Keep her in check, Callan…or I will.”
My thoughts raged louder than the wind off the battlements as I left the council chamber: Magic .
It had always lingered like a ghost in our history—referenced in passing, spoken of with reverence and restraint.
I’d grown up knowing our kingdom had absorbed the power of others, and had even admitted to Gwen that Eldoria had selfishly stolen her kingdom’s magic, but I had never fully considered how … or at what cost.
My mind whirled, unable to stop thinking of her—of the way she’d stiffened at the mention of my father; the quaver in her voice, as if her words carried the weight of half-truths; the way her fingers brushed the books in the archives like each one whispered something meant only for her.
I had defended her, lied for her, sat beside her bed with worry coiled in my chest. But if even part of what Father implied was true, she wasn’t just a curious bride trying to understand her new kingdom—she was searching for something buried, something dangerous…
and she was willing to weave whatever lie necessary to obtain it.
My footsteps echoed as I climbed the stairs to her chambers, telling myself I only meant to check on her condition. But as I neared her door, I found it cracked open, the bed inside empty. I froze, worry gripping me. Where could she have gone?
A flicker of motion suddenly caught my eye down the corridor as pale silk vanished around the far corner, moving too quickly for someone who’d fainted several hours ago.
She didn’t stop when I called her name. Concern escalated as I started quietly in her direction.
Whatever secrets she might be keeping, she’d collapsed only hours ago and should be resting.
She moved without courtly poise or aimless wandering, each step silent and purposeful, as if following an invisible trail.
I followed at a distance, trying to tell myself spying was necessary to ensure she wouldn’t collapse…as well as to ease the unwanted doubts planted by Father’s claims.
She paused at the junction between two wings, pressing her palm against the stone near an unlit sconce.
Her eyes closed and for a long moment she stood still, her fingers hovering in the air…
as if listening. And then I saw it: a shimmer, faint and undeniable, the same kind I’d glimpsed when Father had opened the chest. It curled, barely visible around her fingertips for a fleeting second, but it was enough.
I backed away before she could turn and notice me, my pulse pounding in my ears. A chill swept through me that had nothing to do with the drafty halls. This wasn’t the behavior of a disoriented woman searching for a misplaced trinket, nor one curious about history.
She was hunting magic .
Just who was this woman in my father’s palace, and what had I let her into my heart to do?