Page 14

Hawthorne

The Thayarian throne room is as dangerous as it is alluring. With windows open to the vines that cover the palace facade, monarchs have access to a deadly weapon. It is also rumored that the room itself is built atop a carefully maintained thayar greenhouse, providing an extra magical boost to those who sit on the throne of laurel.

A Brief History of Modern Thayaria

My first thought when my eyes land on the Witch Queen is that no one has ever spoken of how beautiful she is. She’s also fucking terrifying, especially with all the fog, slithering vines, and dim lights that I’m sure are her doing. Despite the dark makeup, her eyes are bright, piercing and viridescent—her milk-white skin providing the perfect backdrop for the beautiful green to shine. I have to force my gaze away from them. Her figure is all soft features, from the small, button nose to the voluptuous legs on full display in a tantalizing dress that leaves little to the imagination. A dress that exposes too much to keep my eyes from dipping to her chest. My mouth goes dry at her full breasts and curvy figure, and I try to cover it with a wide smile that I know exposes my dimple. Her delicate, heart-shaped lips purse in suspicion, and I take an involuntary step toward her, unable to stop my body from moving closer. Her features sharpen at the same time the enormous black feline next to her stands, arches its back, and hisses. I swear I hear her murmur praise to the hellish beast, and my lips quirk involuntarily. She adjusts herself, causing her long reddish-brown hair to sweep across her breasts, drawing my attention back to them and emptying my mind of all rational thought. I take a deep breath and intentionally move my eyes to the cat that now looks like it will gouge my eyes out with a single swipe of its massive paw. Get it together.

When I woke the morning after our pub-crawl with the worst hangover in a hundred years, I panicked the moment I saw that the letter I only vaguely remembered writing the evening before was gone. Silene and Fionn had stared at me in horror as I told them of the drunken missive I’d written, with threats and demands so aggressive we were sure she’d kill us immediately. I’d waited in anticipation all day, my head pounding and my body aching from the ale.

When her reply came, we all read it together, not sure what to make of the cheeky response. It matched the aggression of my letter, maneuvering through her own threats with expert precision and calling me out for complaining about doing the work of an ambassador. But it was also… funny. Or at least, I thought it was. She called her interactions with my father ‘unhappy affairs.’ It was also more honest than I expected, and that gave me hope I might make a real ally of her.

“It’s a delight to finally meet you, Your Majesty,” I say as I stand in front of the imposing monarch. Shit, why did I have to stress the ‘finally.’ Recovering, I add, “I confess the letter I sent was written in a… compromised state of mind. Your Thayarian ale is more potent than I expected.” I try to look sheepish, dropping my eyes to the ground and rubbing my hand on the back of my neck before looking back up at her with my brightest and most magnetic smile. If I have any hope of recovering this situation, I need her to find me unthreatening and attractive. Thankfully, that’s my specialty.

“I find that when inebriated, one’s truest emotions and feelings come to the surface,” she says coolly, not missing a beat. Fuck, this is going poorly. Vines inch closer to my feet, not quite wrapping around them, but the threat of her is clearly conveyed.

“While the letter may have expressed the spirit of my emotion clearly, it certainly did not reflect my true intentions. That was the ale talking.” I wink. She stares me down, expression unmoved, apparently immune to my charms. After what feels like a lifetime of tense silence, her lips finally quirk, barely visible.

“Thayarian ale is indeed potent, due to the unique way in which it’s made,” she acknowledges, giving me the smallest bit of slack on the line she’s hooked me on, though the vines at my feet don’t move away. One of them inches up my leg, and I look at her sharply. This time, a challenging smile full of mirth crosses her lips before the vine returns to the ground. She wants to get a reaction from me, and that thought is more exciting that it should be.

“Indeed,” I say, ignoring the threat before I gesture to Fionn and Silene. “May I introduce Fionn Solanum, my close friend and advisor, and Silene Kalmeera.” I intentionally don’t introduce Silene as my betrothed. Fionn and Silene both bow again but remain silent.

“Welcome to Thayaria, Fionn and Silene,” the Queen says. “I trust you’ve found your accommodations comfortable.” They both nod. Then she pins me with a look, all the warmth drained from her voice as she says, “So, Prince Hawthorne, you requested this meeting. What is it you wished to discuss with me?”

Right to the point . I squirm under her calculating gaze, sure she could wink me out of existence like she did the weapons when the rebels attacked. I smile through my discomfort, used to these kinds of interactions from a lifetime living with my father in the Velmaran Court.

“I simply wished to meet the notorious female whose court and kingdom I’m to spend my time getting to know. This arrangement is an extension of friendship, is it not? I’d like to extend that friendship to the monarch herself.” I flash another grin, though she seems impervious to them.

“Well, you’ve met me and have delivered your kind words of friendship. If that’s all, you’re dismissed,” she says coldly, then stands. The advisors seated several yards away in the room stand with her.

I tense, knowing this could be the last time I see her if I don’t offer her something. “Wait,” I rush out. She lifts a single brow. “I discovered interesting… information about the Sons and Daughters of Thayaria while out drinking. I thought you’d like to know what I uncovered.” The room shakes slightly with what I think is Laurel’s power. Fascinating.

Pressure on my legs reveals vines that wrap up my thighs. They squeeze tightly and pin me in place, only inches away from my favorite part of my body. I barely have time to consider what castration by plants would feel like before there’s a prickling sensation on my neck. A small dagger made of water hovers right near my jugular. She’s got me entirely at her mercy, and something tingles low in my stomach at that thought. Am I attracted to the Witch Queen? The idea is unfathomable, and yet, I can’t look away from her full hips and the curve of her waist.

The familiar zing of a weapon being unsheathed brings me out of my lust-addled haze, Fionn’s huff behind me telling me he doesn’t like Laurel’s antics one bit. The dagger at my neck only presses in harder, shockingly sharp for something made of water. It doesn’t break skin—yet—but I have no doubt it could if she wanted it to. I can’t stop my heavy breathing, my nerves reaching a breaking point even for me. Within minutes, the meeting has devolved into threats and drawn weapons. Silene appears at my side, though she has the sense not to draw a weapon or call on her magic. The tension in the air is as thick as the swirling mist the Witch Queen conjures around us.

“Easy, Fionn,” I murmur to diffuse the tension. He sheathes his weapon, and the vines release their grip slightly. The dagger disappears, though I know she could conjure it again instantly if she wished.

The Queen pauses for a moment, staring me down with those enchanting eyes, then sits again. She studies me closely, and I can’t stop the shivers that wrack my body under her assessing gaze. I’m supposed to be seducing her, and yet I’m the one who can’t look away. The silence stretches as the vines around my legs fully unwind. For a moment, I think she won’t respond, that she’s waiting for me to speak again.

“Everyone out,” she finally commands. Her advisors look surprised, eyes wide and mouths open.

Admon stands. “Your Majesty,” he begins, but she cuts him off.

“I said, everyone out. I wish to speak to Prince Hawthorne alone .” This time, aether laces her voice, and I’m forced to my knees in shock along with everyone else in the room. She’s stronger than me. The realization is as exhilarating as it is terrifying.

Beside me on the ground, Silene murmurs a heated, “What the hell are you doing?”

“Wasn’t going well, had to improvise,” I whisper back as the three of us stand again. Her advisors file out of the room, trading wary glances between themselves.

“That order applies to you as well, Ambassadors Kalmeera and Solanum,” she says, though her voice is softer this time. At least her ire only seems to be directed toward me. Fionn and Silene hesitate, turning taut expressions and worried eyes to me. I give them a subtle nod that tells them I’ll be fine, and they slowly back out of the room, their training keeping them from showing their backs to the threat.

The monstrous cat by Queen Laurel’s side stretches its legs and prowls toward me while the Witch Queen and I study one another in silence. The creature slowly circles me, eyes bright and predatory.

“This one doesn’t count as everyone ?” I joke, nodding to her pet. “I wouldn’t mind you ordering it away.” The cat hisses in my direction, and I can’t help but take a step back, though I try—and likely fail—to make it look natural.

Queen Laurel doesn’t acknowledge the comment or react in any way. She’s as controlled as my father. Sitting on the edge of her throne, posture mimicking the sinister feline who now sits directly in front of me, she narrows her eyes. True fear enters my gut now, regretting sending Fionn and Selene away.

“And why, Prince Hawthorne, were you in a position to uncover information about the Sons and Daughters? Did you seek them out?” she asks in a low voice, aether pulsing slightly, and it’s all I can do to remain standing. The room trembles around us. Centuries at my father’s side have taught me when I’m in real danger, and this moment might be the most at risk I’ve ever been. Vines slowly inch up my legs again, ready to shackle my wrists and ankles.

“I sought them out, yes” I say slowly, “but only to gather information that might help me better ally with you. I wish for us to build a true friendship while I’m here.” I make a point not to wink or smile, trying to convey my seriousness at the situation. Something tells me flirting will not get me through this meeting, and I abandon my plan to seduce her, at least for today. She laughs, cold and unfeeling. Without warning, my lungs collapse, and I try to bring my hands to my throat, but some unseeable force pins them to my sides. The Queen’s eyes are bright with malice as I stand there suffocating.

“I don’t believe for one second that Velmara and King Mazus desire true friendship through this arrangement,” she spits out. Breath returns to my lungs, and I gasp, my body slumping. Her feline companion stalks around me again, eyes aglow in the dark and hazy room. My palms sweat, and I feel the Queen’s power pulsing in the thick mist around me. One wrong move, and she’ll unleash its fury.

Taking a deep breath, I make a rash and impulsive decision. “I didn’t say that Velmara or King Mazus desired true friendship. I said that I do.” It’s a risk to speak this plainly. Queen Laurel could easily tell my father of this conversation. The information could help her negotiate even better trade terms or could get her out of this entire arrangement. But if I’m going to get any information out of her about blood magic and what my father might be planning with the missing thayar, I need her to see me as an ally.

Her eyes widen for just a moment, but she recovers quickly. “And how would a true friendship with you benefit me, Prince? You’re the irresponsible prince of a kingdom an ocean away, the son of my greatest enemy, who could rule for another thousand years. From everything I’ve heard, your father has cast you aside with this arrangement, and you’re unfit to rule. Even when I gave you access to the inner workings of my government, you scoffed at being asked to put in real work and complained that you had not instead been lavished with attention from the Queen.”

Her words sting, too close to my own insecurities, and yet so disconnected from who I want to be. Frustration rises in response. The light in the room brightens with my magic, and I can feel every droplet of water that creates the hazy fog in the room. It’s time to show her I am not some powerless prince she can order around as she pleases. She may be more powerful than me, but only just.

My fear replaced with anger, I snarl at her. “You know nothing about me. I took offense, not at the opportunity you provided me to do ‘real work’ as you call it, but at the lack of dignity and respect offered to me since I arrived. I didn’t expect you to lavish me with attention, but I did expect you to greet the Crown Prince of the kingdom who now provides you with the lion’s share of your revenue. And having me listen in on endless meetings about inconsequential topics isn’t ‘work’—it’s babysitting. So don’t pretend to be offended by my displeasure at being farmed out to your least important advisors to fill my days with meaningless activity.”

I’ve lost my temper, and now I can’t stop. The light in the room is blazing, the mist completely burned away by my magic. I let her get the upper hand initially, but I’m the closest equal she has across the Four Kingdoms, and she should be reminded of it. Lightning dances across the ceiling above her head, and spears of light rush past her, barely missing striking her, my aim perfect. The Queen’s eyes widen in shock, though she doesn’t move, only stares at me with what looks like awe written across her expression before she shuts her emotions away again. But I ignore it, too lost in the moment to pause and appreciate the turning of the tables.

“I’ve offered you information that might help prevent more death and injury of your people, and instead of negotiating for that information, you insult me.” I spit the last bit out, my voice a sneer. Something about this female gets under my skin. For added effect, I will bolts of lightning to arc out from my palms. Queen Laurel stares at me for a moment, eyes bright with an emotion I can’t place. I think she might be so angry she can’t speak, and I channel aether into the light and water around me, ready to put up whatever defenses I can against her imposing power.

Her laughter cuts through the thick air, surprising me so much I nearly send a dagger of light hurling toward her before I realize what the sound is. This laugh differs from the lifeless chuff I heard before, a melodious lilt that has me once again almost dropping to my knees, though this time for an entirely different reason. One that I need to bury deep within me so that I don’t examine it too closely and allow it to distract me from my purpose here. The sound is so at odds with the persona of the Witch Queen sitting before me, I don’t know what to think of it or of her.

“I’m sorry,” she says, almost giggling. “It’s just, here you are, Mazus’s son, chastising me for not caring about the death and injury of my people. The irony is too great, Prince Hawthorne.” I’m not sure what to do, so I dazzle her with my best charming grin, once again returning to the role I’m most comfortable with. That sobers her. Her face settles into a mask of cool unfeeling once again. “I don’t take my people’s lives for granted. Yesterday’s attack was a tragedy—two guards died, and dozens were injured. I have misjudged you and insulted you. I apologize. Please, tell me what you would like in exchange for the information you uncovered on the Sons and Daughters.”

Now it’s my turn to be shocked into silence. I expected her to lose her temper, to castrate me, or use my blood to turn my organs inside out. At the very least, she should have knocked me to my knees again to remind me she’s still more powerful than me and demanded the information. Instead, she laughed, apologized, and moved on. I’m wary of what game she’s playing, but I tell myself I’m too unsettled to be anything but truthful, not wanting to examine the motivations behind my honesty with this alluring female.

“I told you what I want. A true friendship and alliance. I… chafe under my father’s rule,” I admit impulsively, immediately regretting the blunt honesty, but I have no choice but to continue. “I don’t agree with many of his actions. I’d like to help you uncover the plans of the Sons and Daughters.” I’m flying by the seat of my pants now, not entirely sure what words are coming out of my mouth. “In return, give me the chance to show you who I am, without my father’s reputation clouding your impression.” Her eyes narrow, and the cat returns to her side. “We’re nearly the same age,” I continue. “My father may seem undying, but he’s ancient, and I’m his only child. I will take the throne one day. Consider this opportunity the chance to lay real seeds for a better relationship with the future King of Velmara, and not the current one.”

I’ve practically laid myself bare, though I left out my desire to learn more about blood magic and my suspicions about my father. Silene’s going to kill me when she learns about this conversation. If Queen Laurel betrays me to my father, can I spin this as a ruse to get closer to her as he requested?

The Queen chews her lip, and I find the gesture… adorable. I shake my head, trying to clear thoughts of her appearance from my mind. This is not what I should be thinking about right now.

Finally, she says, eyes narrowed, “I don’t trust you, and I certainly don’t trust your father. Why did he really send you here? Tell me the truth. If you lie—well, I told your father you’d be in an enemy kingdom with no friends or allies and at my mercy . So, consider your words carefully.”

I answer quickly and truthfully, no concerns telling her what I know, not after what I’ve already shared. “He wants me to learn more about your magic. He asked me to assess how powerful you’ve become, and desired information about the state of the kingdom. But—I don’t believe that’s his true motivation, though I haven’t uncovered the real reason yet. He gave me no way to provide updates to him nor any indication when I might return to Velmara. If he really wanted this info, he’d have found a way for me to communicate with him.” This revelation guts my negotiation power. If she knows I can’t contact my father, I have nothing to hold over her if things don’t go well. Unfortunately, I only realize this after the admission has left my mouth.

She once again chews her lip, and my body tenses, breath catching. I want to run my fingers across those lips, want to… Stop.

“I see,” she says quietly as she absentmindedly strokes her cat’s head, lost in her own thoughts. The room darkens once again, mist swirling around me and the floor quivering with the force of her power. Her gaze hardens, eyes lethal. Vines wrap around my legs again and squeeze tightly in warning before releasing me. “I’ll agree to give you the chance to prove yourself to me, but nothing more,” she says with an edge to her voice that makes my palms sweat. “But if you betray me, or put my people at risk, I’ll kill you and make your friends suffer. Your male warrior has only seen the tiniest tip of the depth of my power. There is nowhere you can go where I won’t find you, and I can make you and your friends pay with more than your lives. Do you understand?” Her eyes stare daggers into me, piercing deeper than another person ever has.

Finally, an interaction with a monarch that I’m used to. Threats and grandstanding are my specialty. I give her a cocky smile, the one I give my father when he threatens me and I want to get under his skin. “Understood, Your Majesty. The big bad scary Witch Queen will find me and torture me, blah blah blah. Good thing I don’t plan on betraying you.”

I think I catch a tick of her lips, but she recovers. “Good. Now, tell me, what information do you have, and how do you propose to discover the plans of the Sons and Daughters of Thayaria?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” I say in an exasperated huff before grinning at her again. “I have a contact to ask for at a granary. My plan is to find the contact, join the Sons and Daughters in disguise as a Thayarian commoner, then pass you any information that I hear.”

She laughs again, loud and full, and I take another involuntary step toward her, catching myself when the feline eyes me suspiciously. “That’s the worst plan I’ve ever heard, princeling. But I can work with it. We do things in Thayaria with careful planning. I don’t take a single risk that my plans won’t work out.” Silene is going to love her.

Her laugh and relaxed posture light something up inside of me. I can’t stop myself from saying, “Well, then, witchling , please do instruct me in how to perfect this plan.” I give her a charming wink. It’s easy to flirt with her. Either she doesn’t notice, or doesn’t care, because she returns to her icy, all business exterior, and we discuss her ideas for the infiltration.