Page 16

Laurel

Metal channeling is a powerful order of magic use. Strong metal channelers can guide weapons into their mark using the aether, a powerful skill for a warrior. Those of average strength often take roles as blacksmiths, supplying the weapons and armor for kingdoms. Some can even craft blades imbued with aether magic to keep them eternally sharp or to wound more deeply.

The Unabridged History of Magical Orders, Volume I

The next day, I can barely keep my attention focused on the advisors presenting revenue numbers and other operational kingdom updates. Sensing my mind wandering, Carex asks, “Your Majesty, should we have a short recess?” I startle from my thoughts and nod. Carex approaches me where I stand in the corner pouring myself a mug of tea.

“Is everything alright, Laurel?” he asks in a low voice only I can hear. I look at his handsome face, gray eyes bright as he observes me with an awareness that only comes from an ex-lover. It’s been twenty years since our three decades-long courtship ended, mostly amicably, but it had been a deep and intense affair before fizzling out. Nonetheless, Carex knows me well and can tell that I’m preoccupied.

“Yes, I didn’t sleep well last night. My mind is wandering. I’ll have a cup of tea before we resume.”

He doesn’t believe me. “Laurel, it’s not just today. You’ve been distracted for weeks. I know you must be missing Nemesia’s absence. Please, confide in me.”

His words echo what he told me when we’d ended our relationship. He had wanted more . Wanted to become my partner, wanted me to bring him into my confidence. He had pushed and pushed, until we both realized I wasn’t ready. I can’t keep pushing you for more, Laurel. If you can’t let me in, how can we ever evolve? He had said the words with kindness, but we both knew what they meant. The next day, he’d asked if we should end things. I knew it was coming, knew that it was the only way forward, but it still stung. I’d agreed because I didn’t know what else to say. I think we both thought we’d eventually resume the relationship, though when and what that would look like neither of us had an answer for.

I consider telling him the truth now, bringing him into my confidence. Consider allowing him to fill the massive hole that Nemesia has left behind her. But I can’t trust him, or anyone on the Council, for that matter. With everything crushing in on me now, my preference to shut everyone out has only intensified.

When I don’t respond, lost in my thoughts, he presses on. “Let me in, Laurel. You’re clearly struggling. I can help.”

“There’s a lot going on right now. I’m distracted. That’s all.”

He pushes further. “Laurel, the rebels—” Anger rises inside of me. His tendency to persist until someone gives him what he wants is annoying now that we’re no longer together.

“Thank you for your concern, Carex, but you should focus on your own duties. I’m still waiting for a report on how your Royal Guards allowed armed rebels into the palace. A lapse in security that resulted in death and injury.” Carex flinches, the barb landing as intended. “I would like to drink a cup of tea. If you’ll excuse me.” With that, I walk away.

The meeting concludes an hour later, and it’s finally time to get an update from the Velmaran ambassadors. I had to make up a story about what information Prince Hawthorne has about the rebellion since several advisors heard his initial comments in the throne room. Thankfully, I’d been able to convince them the Prince had heard nothing more than rumors in the pub and had used it as an excuse to meet with me. I return to my rooms to dress in my usual armor of makeup and a scandalous, dark dress before aerstepping to the apartment.

When I arrive, all three Velmarans are sitting near the fire, conversing with the practiced ease of longtime friends. I can’t help but smile at the roar of laughter that comes from the Prince after something Silene says. She smiles up at him and grabs his hand tightly before releasing it, her expression so light-hearted and genuine that I can tell there’s a real connection between them. And Hawthorne—the laughter makes his face radiant and unguarded in what I think might be a rare moment, reserved only for his best friend and his betrothed. They’ll make a happy couple when they’re married. I don’t understand the twinge in my gut I feel at that thought.

Fionn notices my presence first, a serious and watchful expression quickly consuming his face. He fears me more than the others. Silene and Prince Hawthorne turn to face me as well, plastering reserved and somewhat forced smiles onto their faces, no sign of the easiness from before. That too gives me a twinge of discomfort that I don’t know how to feel about. I look at them expectantly, jumping right into business to avoid the way their now-guarded expressions affect me.

“How did the meeting go?”

Silene takes the lead in debriefing me. “As expected. They knew who we were and were expecting us. You were right about Thorne being targeted in the pub. They knew exactly who he was that night.” I can’t help but smirk, feeling like I’ve won another game between the Prince and me. “We met a fae named Restin. I think he’s a leader here in Arberly.”

“You think or you know? With a name, you need to be sure.”

She blushes and lowers her eyes. “I know. I don’t know why I added ‘I think.’”

I soften my voice. “It’s okay. Never say you think when you know. Be confident in the intelligence you’ve gathered.” I smile gently at her, hoping to undo my harshness from before. She smiles back, and this time the smile is genuine.

“Restin is the leader of the rebellion here in Arberly,” she repeats with confidence in her voice. “We made the offer to break out the prisoners as a show of loyalty to their cause. Restin promised to introduce us to leadership once we deliver the prisoners to them. We’re meeting at the granary again in a week.”

“So…” I say with a smile, “I guess we should plan a prison break. We only have a week.” They look between one another, eyes betraying their concern.

“You plan for us to actually break them out?” Prince Hawthorne asks with a tone of lazy indifference.

“Of course. The rebels could have spies anywhere, not to mention if I simply handed over the prisoners to you, my Council would have questions. We must enact a plan for you to break them out, but for it to look like it was the rebels themselves to protect your positions here in Thayaria.” They look nervous, shoulders tight and unspoken words on their lips. Glances between them confirm what I already suspected: they don’t trust me, and I don’t blame them. We’re reluctant allies at best, from enemy kingdoms, and I’m putting them at risk. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little skirmish,” I tease, trying to lighten the mood. “My guards are well-trained, but I expected the famous Shining Prince and his powerful metal channeler to be capable of taking them on.” Fionn’s jaw clenches, and I can see that I’ve ruffled his feathers. I’ve made the situation worse by saying something that could be interpreted as a threat. I clear my throat. “What I meant was—”

“We’re perfectly capable of battling a few palace guards,” Fionn interrupts. Ah, I’ve hurt his ego, then. “We can do it with no one even seeing us or the rebels.”

“That is precisely what we do not want,” I say harshly. Silene winces, and I vow to tone it down. They need to trust me, even if I don’t trust them. “If the prisoners go missing with no witnesses, the three of you will be instantly suspected or believed to be working with the rebels. My Council—all of Thayaria, really—distrusts you, and are looking for any reason to insist I return you to Velmara at once. You need to break them out with a rebel or two with you and ensure only the rebels are seen.”

Fionn looks disappointed, and I wonder how the famed warrior is taking to the life of a diplomat. They don’t have access to any sparring rings, and that must be especially frustrating for him. I’ll fix that tomorrow. They’ll need to train for the breakout anyway without raising suspicions, and it will be an olive branch. I hope.

Silene, ever the strategist, chimes in. “Thorne can use his magic to hide us and make it so that only the rebels are seen. We’ll have to convince the rebels to provide fighters and ensure they know they’ll be blamed for the breakout. I suspect they won’t mind. We’ll want to make sure there are enough guards to spot and report the rebels, but not so many guards that it’s suspicious only a few rebels can get past them.”

“Leave that to me. Prince Hawthorne, would you be able to hide both Fionn and Silene from another room?” I ask.

“Of course. I’m not the most powerful light channeler ever known for nothing.” He winks.

“Rumors of your reputation mention little about your magical abilities,” I retort.

Catching my subtle innuendo, he smirks. “And what abilities did you hear about, witchling?” My legs clench together involuntarily at the sultry tone of his voice, but I won’t let him win whatever this is.

“Let’s just say your reputation for drinking and—other things—precedes you,” I add, eyes focused on the dimple that makes another appearance.

“Sounds like you were really interested in me,” he quips, voice low. I swear his body leans in toward me, but I ignore it.

“Hardly,” I scoff, though my cheeks heat and I try really hard not to notice the way his shirt stretches taut across his chest.

“If only we’d met sooner, you wouldn’t have had to go to such extreme lengths to learn more,” he taunts. I find myself rolling my eyes while my lips tighten in an unbidden half-smile. I quickly return my face to neutral. I need to get this conversation back on track.

“Speaking of meeting, after you demanded an audience with me and chastised me so thoroughly for the lack of pomp and circumstance for your arrival, I’m suddenly feeling inspired to throw a ball in your honor, princeling.” I give the last word my most sarcastic bluster, challenging the Prince with my gaze. The plan dawns on him and his face brightens. My breath catches in my chest at the sight of his handsome features pulled into a smile directed only at me, but I don’t let that show on my face.

“With the recent rebel attacks, you’ll want to increase security significantly for a ball. You wouldn’t want the rebels to cause trouble in front of the Velmaran Crown Prince, would you?” he asks in mock concern.

“Precisely,” I say, slipping into a cool mask of regal indifference. That doesn’t stop us from staring at one another for a second too long, energy pulsing between us. Fionn clears his throat, and my cheeks heat this time in embarrassment. I’m suddenly aware that his betrothed, who I find myself liking more and more, sits next to me. Shame courses through my body.

I can’t deny I find the Prince attractive. Any female even slightly interested in males would, with his bright smiles and the dimple on one cheek and the way his dark hair looks so effortlessly swept back from his face and his strong forearms… I shut those thoughts down. I can’t afford to let myself get distracted. He’s still the Velmaran Prince , my enemy, and someone I was literally plotting to kill just days ago. Am still plotting to kill. From this point forward, I vow to smother any notice of his features . I’m getting the information I need from him, then getting rid of him. I push down the queasiness I feel at the idea of having Prince Hawthorne, or even worse, Silene, killed. I tip my chin higher, determined to stick to the plan and stop getting sidetracked. My people deserve a Queen who puts them first and doesn’t get distracted by dimples and winks.

“I’ll set the date of the ball with my Council tomorrow so you can inform the rebels of when to prepare for the breakout,” I say, the words coming out awkward and stilted.

“And do you have a plan for how to actually get the rebels out of the palace?” Silene asks, apparently unaffected by the blatant flirting between the Prince and me. “We might be able to sneak them out of prison without notice, but this is a big palace. It will be challenging to march them through the halls and to a group of rebels waiting for them outside.”

“I have a plan. I’ll tell you about it in due time.” I’m not yet ready to trust them with information about the secret passage out of the prison.

“We need to plan—” Silene starts.

“I said I’ll tell you about it at the right time,” I say fiercely. For the second time in this conversation, she winces. Guilt swims through my gut, but I push it down, reminding myself that she’s the future daughter-in-law of King Mazus. And that I will have to make difficult decisions in the near future about her. As the tension lingers between us, I aerstep away.

When I aerstep the next morning to meet the Velmarans for a tour of their new training room, Carex is with them already. Prince Hawthorne leans against the wall, relaxed and casual like he’s grown up in the palace, making small talk and joking. It looks like he’s trying to flirt with Carex. He gives the Captain a wink and a smirk, which only makes Carex look uncomfortable. I don’t understand this male—he seems to flirt with everyone he meets, despite his betrothed standing right next to him. His broad chest is on full display in the form-fitting shirt he wears, and that dimple appears as he makes a joke with Silene. Stop looking at him.

I square my shoulders and address the Captain. “Carex, I didn’t expect to see you. I planned to give the ambassadors a tour of their new training room.” I’m suspicious of Carex’s fortuitous timing. He bows low, then stands to meet my eyes.

“I ran into them in the hall in front of the kitchens. I had just finished my final checks on the space. If you’d like, Your Majesty, I’m happy to provide them a tour so you can return to your other work. I’m sure you have more pressing matters to attend to,” he says. He’s collected, his face holding a calm expression, but something about the encounter doesn’t sit right with me.

“That won’t be necessary. Thank you for preparing this so quickly. I know what havoc the guards can wreak in their training rooms.”

Carex tenses. “Your Majesty,” he says in a low voice. Stepping closer, he adds so only I can hear, “Is it wise for you to be alone and unguarded with them? I should come with you to watch your back.” I notice he eyes Fionn suspiciously, and he must know of the male’s reputation as a warrior and incredibly powerful metal channeler. I consider him carefully, unsure what he’ll do if I refuse his protection. Though it irks me, I begrudgingly consent to have him accompany us, not wanting to stir up any suspicion on his part.

The training rooms for the Royal Guard sit in natural caves in the mountain the palace is built into. This makes them all unique—some are small, appropriate for only a pair of sparring partners, while others are enormous. This one is big enough for about a half dozen guards, but no more. The ceiling is high, with mats stacked in the far-right corner. Racks of practice weapons line one side, and ivy crawls up the walls. There are oak buckets of water throughout the room, and torches emit a yellow glowing ember. All channelers will find something in the space for magic practice, though there’s also a circle lined in iron to block magic for certain training situations.

While we walk around the room, I explain the iron ring and the conduits available, desperately trying and failing to keep my eyes from watching Prince Hawthorne and his muscled chest closely. I show them how to refill the water buckets from the spigot and inspect the practice weapons. I palm the only dagger on the rack and hide it in my dress sleeve. When we’ve explored every corner of the room, I turn and look at the Prince.

“Is there anything else you require, Prince Hawthorne?” I ask.

“No, Your Majesty.” He bows, and a piece of hair falls into his eyes from the perfectly messy style. I want to run my fingers over the silky locks. Stop it, Laurel. “Fionn, Silene, and I train in a similar space under the Velmaran palace, so we’re pleased to feel so at home. Thank you for your hospitality. I’m sure Fionn in particular will be relieved to have the chance to wave a sword around my face once again.” He smiles, bright and alluring, and that cursed dimple makes another appearance. I clench my fists to keep from reacting to it, only to realize my body has leaned into him. Coughing, I back away.

“Carex, I’ve just realized there are no daggers available on the weapons rack. Would you mind running to another room and grabbing one? I believe Miss Kalmeera mentioned daggers being her weapon of choice.” Silene thankfully doesn’t react to the blatant lie I’ve just told. Smart girl. I knew she’d catch on.

Carex looks the weapons rack over, confusion lining his features. “I could have sworn there was one there,” he says. “Of course, Your Majesty. I’ll be back shortly .” He emphasizes the word, giving Hawthorne and Fionn a hard stare as if to warn them off trying anything, then walks briskly from the room.

Prince Hawthorne’s eyes twinkle, while Silene’s stare at me with an assessing expression. “I too could have sworn I saw a dagger on that rack, Your Majesty,” the Prince says smoothly, teasingly, his eyes bright and locked on mine. Suddenly, the weapon hurls away from me. It flies through the room and ends up in Fionn’s outstretched hand. He stares at me, challenging me to react. I grin, hoping to put them all more at ease. Prince Hawthorne and Silene break out into laughter, and Fionn’s lips even twitch.

“You should have seen your face!” Silene tentatively says. She’s testing me, wondering how casual she can be. I widen my smile, and she returns it, bright and beaming. Warmth spreads through my body at being part of their endless teasing of one another, and I find myself laughing with them.

“I asked Carex to leave so I could speak with you,” I tell them. “The ball will be in two weeks’ time. Two nights before the ball, I’ll walk you through the full plan for the escape. Prince Hawthorne, you’ll need to attend meetings with myself and the Council to plan the welcome ball.”

“I look forward to party planning with you, witchling. I’m told I have an affinity for throwing a raging celebration,” he says with a wink.

“Is that right? It doesn’t seem like planning would be part of your skill set.” Silene snorts and Fionn whistles. I honestly didn’t even know what words were coming out of my mouth before I spoke them. The Prince grins wide, clearly enjoying this back and forth between us.

“When it comes to having fun , I know a thing or two.” The innuendo he laces into the words has me breathing heavy.

“So I’ve heard, princeling. Just remember you have a job to do. It’s not a party, it’s a distraction.” With that, I aerstep from the room, trying to ignore the fluttering in my stomach.