Page 41 of The Starlit Ring (The Chronicles of Liridin #1)

W e emerged in a room lit by a chandelier whose crystals were so tiny that they were reminiscent of stars in the night sky. The ceiling was high and arched, the single window nearly twice the height of a human being. I could just make out the moon and the sea beyond.

Pillars of black and white streaked marble offset the flagged stone floor and glistening rock walls.

Were we in a cave? How had we gotten there? The passage from the library took an upward slant. If we began on the third floor, and only climbed upward, then there was no way that we could be in a cave.

And yet, here we were.

An elegantly carved desk sat in the corner.

The bookcase beside it was stuffed full of books and papers.

Two armchairs rested in the corner. A telescope was positioned near the window.

Diagrams and illustrations were pinned to the walls, the pages overlapping and lopsided like they’d been pinned up by a madman.

I glanced at Marius and thought that maybe they had.

Crystals, rocks, daggers, corked vials, a cracked teacup, and an assortment of tiny potted plants filled the shelves along the opposite wall.

My eye was immediately drawn to a silvery sphere the size of my hand.

Opalescent, with undertones of sage and deep blue.

Veins spiderwebbed across its polished surface like cracks in glass.

“Where are we?”

“Neither here nor there. This is the Seer’s Room,” said Marius, gesturing around us. “I’m the first person to have used it in decades. Nearly a century, in fact.”

“Oh,” I said, surprised. “Not even a court sorcerer?”

Marius shook his head. “They don’t count. Only Seers of the Tocchian line.” He sighed and dropped onto a stool near the window, where a telescope was set up. “Although there haven’t been any of late.”

How should I react? To say nothing would be callous, but a single sorry felt too cold and distant. “It must be a burden to be the first.”

“Oh, hardly,” he countered, leaning an elbow on the window’s ledge.

He always lounged in ways that made me think of a cat lying in a sunbeam, and this time was no different.

His long limbs held a feline grace, his eyes a strange intensity.

Far below us, the sea thrashed against rock, rhythmic and angry.

“In fact, I’m quite glad of it. No one knows what to do with me, so they ignore my abilities altogether.

If I’d been born when my family expected Seers, my upbringing would have focused solely on cultivating visions.

As if it’s so simple.” Tension hardened his jaw, highlighted the angry arch of his eyebrows.

The lace at his collar shifted, revealing the necklace, stark against his pale throat.

I knew little of Seers, except that most of them died when the local peasantry ran out of patience.

They knew too much or too little, or their visions were irrelevant, perhaps poorly timed.

In places like Winton, foresight was feared as much as war.

Known Seers were executed quickly and mercilessly.

I thought of Queen Tarra’s words, and knew she was right. A Seer King would find enemies everywhere he went .

“Does the public know?”

“Absolutely not.” Marius shook his head, laughed to himself. “No, that would be… a perilous reveal.”

“I understand.” I clasped my hands together. “I won’t say anything.”

A loud groan of exasperation. His shoulders slumped, and he leveled a glare at me. “I assumed you’d keep my secret, but if you feel I must remind you for the sake of propriety, then I will. If word gets out, I will know exactly who to blame.”

There was no malice in his voice, but the threat was clear. “I’ve had enough of the dungeons. You needn’t worry.”

“I actually was not worried,” he assured me. “I wouldn’t have brought you here if I thought you’d betray me, Arina. I’d not put either of us in that position.”

Oh . I hadn’t expected that. Warmth flooded my chest. He trusted me.

I thought of my own secrets, and the warmth faded.

“Why am I here, then?”

“Because I need to focus on a vision, and I need someone who can intensify the elements of the room.”

“Intensify them?” I looked around, feeling foolish. This room was crafted for Seers. Of course the elements were aligned with their needs.

“Exactly that. I—I have a problem I need to solve, and it would be so much easier if I could conjure a vision rather than… relying on my own ingenuity. Which is admittedly lacking.” A frustrated sigh. “As is my research.”

“But you’re in the library constantly.”

“And yet, answers evade me.”

I looked around the room. When I concentrated, I could feel the energy coming in pulses from the labradorite orb.

I felt the heat from the stones, the intensity of the marble pillars.

Could I do what he asked? I knew how to imbue a stone with power.

Knew how to enhance its natural elements.

But I understood best how to mount it in steel and enchant it into something far stronger.

“I can try,” I said after a long pause. “I don’t know if I really have the necessary skills.”

“Excellent,” said Marius, leaping to his feet as if he’d known my answer all along. “I only need a few minutes.”

“Me, too,” I said, walking to the shelf to examine the crystals on display there. “The lapis lazuli,” I said, pointing to a blue stone with flecks of gold. “And the labradorite. I think you should use those.”

“Very impressive,” said Prince Marius, flitting past me. “I’d also like to suggest the moonstone.”

“Yes, right,” I agreed, feeling foolish. I’d not seen the pale, smooth stone tucked away between plants. I watched as he rifled through the bookshelf, emerging with a scroll. The edges were so torn as to appear frayed. “Is there anything I need to know before?—”

“No,” interrupted Marius. “Just don’t touch me, and don’t talk to me. If you do, the vision may end too quickly.”

He gathered candles, and sachets of herbs, and a vial of something that looked like algae. With his thumb, he popped the cork. Then he grimaced, took a deep breath, and downed its contents.

I suppressed a gag as I watched the sludge slide into his open mouth.

Nostrils flared, eyes squeezed shut, he swallowed. “Eurgh,” he said, wiping his mouth. “Fuck.”

“What was that?”

“Mugwort. Chamomile. Yarrow. A few other things I can’t disclose. They’ve been stewing in water from the sacred wells of Hildabar for the last, oh, hundred years or so,” said Prince Marius, as if he’d merely taken a sip of wine instead drinking what looked like the contents of a swamp.

“Is that safe?”

“It’s necessary.” Prince Marius shrugged .

I knew not to drink from stagnant waters. Everything about this vial and its contents reeked of danger, but I kept my worries to myself. If Marius believed it was necessary to drink the vial’s contents, then nothing I could say would stop him.

Instead, I helped him set up candles around the altar, careful to keep them away from anything flammable. I didn’t want to risk starting a fire in a room without an easy exit.

When the candles were lit, and the stones arranged, Prince Marius approached the altar at the center of the room. “I’m going to lie here a while,” he said, “and watch the stars. Just focus on enhancing whatever you can.”

“I will,” I promised, closing my eyes to block out the shimmering stars, bringing the energy of the room to the forefront.

Fabric shifted. Marius’s shoes clicked against rock. I ignored it all, assuming he would call out if he needed me.

Without the canopy of stars overhead, my focus returned.

No longer was I dazzled by the night sky.

Now the energy of the room thrummed through my veins, in tune with my heartbeat.

The essence of the marble helped me concentrate so that I could pick out the other elements in the room.

The icy pillars exuded a strange calm. I latched onto it, trying to draw that tranquility to the forefront.

I knew next to nothing about Sight, but imagined a vision would take a lot of focus.

Racing thoughts would never allow for success.

A curious sensation emanated from the sky, a presence that slipped and drifted.

Every time I thought I might grasp it, come to understand what it was, it disappeared like a puff of smoke.

So I focused on the sphere of labradorite, where dreams and shuttered truths pushed and prodded.

Weaving this with the calm from the pillars, I became almost too relaxed and reminded myself to prioritize my task.

I could sleep later. Right now, my job was to help Prince Marius.

Beautiful, charming Marius, lying on a bed of hard, shining rock .

Then the thought changed to something else, and I only just stopped myself from gasping. No, not now! Focus!

But once pictured, the image of a naked Prince Marius would not leave. I imagined him writhing with pleasure, a blush spreading from his chest to his ears as he reached to pull me toward him…

I forced myself to breathe, to force my perverted thoughts from my mind as I exhaled.

I shouldn’t be here. I wanted him too badly. It wasn’t fair to Ria, it wasn’t fair to me, and it certainly wasn’t fair to Marius, who surely didn’t want random maids lusting after him.

And now I couldn’t even do the one thing he’d asked me to do. Whenever I tried, all the elements muddled into something with the energy of a vague dream. The kind where a presence lurked in the distance, biding its time, neither sinister nor well-intentioned.