Page 23

Hawthorne

Raw thayar is processed in large towers by grinding the petals into a fine powder, then heating them to an exact temperature before immediately cooling them down. This process is known to increase the magical properties of the flower.

A Brief History of Modern Thayaria

“We need to get moving!” Silene says as she knocks on my door. Today I’m finally going to meet the leadership of the Sons and Daughters of Thayaria. It’s an opportunity to get information for Laurel. To do something useful after almost two months in this kingdom.

While Fionn will carry weapons, both Silene and I will remain unarmed. I don’t need the weapons, but it makes me nervous that Silene won’t have that extra layer of protection. She’s an air channeler of less than average strength, being part of the noble class of Velmara. I scan her small frame, looking for any sign of fear in her, but as usual, she vibrates with excitement for the adventure ahead.

The rebels want us to meet them in a village south of Arberly called Oakton. According to Laurel, it’s the closest port to Arberly and is a bit larger than the port we entered through. We suspect this is where the rebellion has their base. The journey is a day’s ride from the palace. Instead of taking the non-magical way, Laurel offered to provide Silene with thayar to amplify her magic enough to aerstep us there and back. As usual, it’s a smart plan—it gets us there quickly while giving the rebels the impression Silene is more powerful than she is. We’re going to meet Laurel in her personal chambers, where she keeps a large supply of the flower that won’t be missed or accounted for. Thayar is heavily monitored in the kingdom otherwise.

I settle my magic around the three of us as we make the long trek up the stairs of the palace. I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to the amount of aether I can channel here in Thayaria, especially now that I can sense it in everything around me, thanks to Laurel.

In the days since our training session, there hasn’t been a single moment my mind wasn’t on the elusive and alluring Queen of Thayaria. My plan was to seduce her, but somehow now I’m the one who can’t keep my eyes off her. I know I didn’t imagine the heat between us when we trained, and every day since. Aethers, I’d almost kissed her that day, and not in a casual, “I’m just trying to seduce her to get what I want” way. Thank the aether she pulled away when she did, or I might have done something I can’t walk back from. When I’m in her presence, I lose all sense of anything outside of her, desperate to crack open that icy control she has. Every time I manage to get under her skin even a tiny bit, my body heats and my own skin tingles. I’ve never met a female—never met anyone—who has this effect on me. Rather than coaxing all of her secrets out of her, I’m the one spilling my guts every time she’s near. It’s unsettling and entirely not what is supposed to be happening.

Fionn grunts next to me, breaking me out of my spiraling. “These aethers-damned stairs will be the death of me,” he huffs out quietly, and I chuckle. It’s a sure sign that he’s out of breath that he doesn’t punch me for laughing at him.

“Why don’t you just use your magic to make a dagger or something float, and hold on tight?” Silene suggests, and Fionn’s eyes widen in glee.

“You brilliant female,” he barks out before unsheathing a large dagger from his hip. He scrunches his eyes in concentration and grips the dagger tightly. Slowly, he rises in the air. Opening his eyes, he whoops with delight when he sees that it’s working. My burly best friend rises maybe a dozen steps before his fingers slip and he crashes to the floor. Silene and I cackle with delight. Fionn only stands and glares at us before sheathing the dagger and stalking up the stairs once more.

We finally make it to the door of the Council chamber we came to on our second day here. Laurel’s rooms are just a few paces down this hallway. When we reach the large wooden door engraved with thayars and about a hundred other kinds of flowers, I knock lightly, letting her know we’re there and the hallway is clear. She opens the door, and we quickly file in.

Laurel looks captivating, as usual. She’s dressed in casual clothing, hair braided back, no makeup. I can see her freckles like I did the day we trained, and my body demands that I move closer to her. As I pass her to enter the room, our eyes meet, and I swear electricity zaps between us. This keeps happening, the feeling similar to conjuring tiny bolts of lightning in my hands. But she turns as if nothing happened, leaving me wondering if I’ve imagined it. My body aches to touch her, but I push down the urge, finding a corner near the doorway to stand in as I survey her rooms.

Like everything else with this unlikely monarch, her chambers surprise me. They’re smaller than even my own chambers in Velmara. There’s a simple sitting room and bedroom beyond, but that’s it. The sitting room is furnished with chairs that look like they could be older than my father, many of them fraying at their seams. As I walk farther into the room, her magnetic and seductive scent hits me—overwhelming lilac with the barest hint of mint. It invades my senses and nearly chokes me, so strong in her living quarters that I almost growl at the way it makes me feel. I take one deep inhale to satisfy whatever beast lurks deep within me, then continue scanning the room in detail to distract myself from the building heat in my core and the untethered way it makes me feel.

There’s a desk that’s too large for the space crammed into a corner, every inch covered in papers and books. I enjoy knowing that despite her outward perfectionism, when it’s just her, she’s as messy as me. A fireplace that connects to both the sitting room and bedroom roars, the warmth delicious after the cold passageways of the castle. Other than a bar cart packed to the brim with various wines and liquors, and several bookshelves equally packed, there’s not much more in the room. No dining table, I notice, before I see old plates and mugs littered across the coffee and side tables.

She eats here alone.

That realization haunts me in a way I can’t explain, sending ice to my heated blood instantly. I’m going to insist she join us for a meal soon. I have to. Laurel speaks, voice melodic, breaking me out of my silent observations.

“I keep a highly concentrated distillation of thayar in a few wine bottles. Makes them easier to store and conceal. I just have to remember which ones they are…”

Silene giggles. “What if you thought you were drinking wine from a bottle, but instead took a massive sip of the concoction?”

Laurel grins wide, and it nearly knocks me to my knees. “Thankfully, I save my straight-from-the-bottle-wine-drinking for when I’m alone. It might make me light up like a torch, but at least no one would see.”

“ I want to see that!” Silene cackles.

Laurel’s lips twitch, and an odd expression crosses her features for a moment, but she only says, “Maybe someday I’ll show you.” Silene nods her head enthusiastically. “Here we go! Now I remember. I used the bottles that have these silly goats on them,” Laurel says, pulling out an ancient-looking wine bottle from the bar cart.

“Why those?” Silene asks.

“You know, I honestly can’t remember,” Laurel replies, and the two of them burst into a fit of laughter. Once again, I feel a deeply seated urging to move closer to her, to touch her. I clench my teeth, but it doesn’t stop me from casually stepping to stand by her side, pretending I want a closer look at the wine bottle in her hand. Our hands brush, and Laurel startles before stepping away to stand in front of Silene, though she looks up at me with those bright and clear green eyes. Something passes between us again, and I know she feels it this time with the way her expression twitches, but she ignores it, instead showing Silene the bottle and giggling with her over the goat printed on the label.

This is torture.

Laurel pulls a small vial from her pocket, then fills it with a small measure of liquid. She hands it to Silene, who stares at it for just a moment before throwing back her head and drinking it. She licks her lips as she passes it back to Laurel. Laurel refills the vial, corks it, and hands it back to Silene.

“It tastes better than I expected,” Silene says.

“My friend…er… my advisor, Nemesia, developed the recipe herself. She brews refined thayar with sugar, honeysuckle, and lavender. It’s delicious and also potent. That dose is equivalent to about four flowers.” My jaw drops. Velmarans consider the petals of one flower brewed into a mug of tea to be a standard dose. Silene also looks at Laurel with wide eyes.

“ Four flowers? This will amplify my magic for hours , maybe even days,” Silene says, wonder in her eyes.

“I know you’re going unarmed today,” Laurel admits quietly. “I just wanted to make sure you would be safe. Especially if something happens and you’re there longer than you expect.”

Something in my chest squeezes, and I look into Laurel’s eyes, trying to convey my gratitude to her. She finally returns my stare, acknowledging the unspoken words between us before looking down at her hands in embarrassment. The ice queen has a soft spot for Silene. It gives me hope that maybe—just maybe—she’ll fully open up to us one day. And that maybe I won’t need to seduce her to get her to trust us.

“How are you feeling?” I ask Silene to distract myself from the overwhelming desire to wrap Laurel in my arms.

“Like I could aerstep this whole fucking castle,” she squeals. Laurel’s lips quirk, and I meet her eyes again. This time, she doesn’t look away, meeting my gaze full on. It’s intimidating as fuck, and I want to run from it and drown in it in equal measure.

“Then let’s go,” I say, tearing my gaze from Laurel’s. “We’ll aerstep back to our apartment when we’re done. Now that I’ve been to your rooms, I can flicker the lights here to signal that we’re back.” Laurel nods, then Fionn and I grab Silene’s hands. Technically, we don’t have to be touching for Silene to aerstep up, but it helps her control the magic she rarely uses. As I look up and down Laurel’s body one more time, the familiar pressure of being aerstepped compresses my body.

We arrive just outside of Oakton, having picked the exact place on the map where we wanted to appear several days prior. Silene releases our hands and the three of us walk into the bustling village. The inspiration for the village name becomes immediately apparent, as it sits within a massive oak forest. Sprawling trees that are somehow still green even well into winter grow everywhere there isn’t a building or road. The winter sun filters through the swaying branches high above, casting everything in a sun-dappled glow.

The buildings in the town are all wooden, likely made from the very oaks felled to make room for them. As we walk, I notice there are humans and fae living alongside one another, a rare sight in Velmara outside of the capital, but more common here in Thayaria. Children chase one another through the streets while their parents yell at them to behave. We arrive at the tavern where we were told to meet, though we’re an hour early on purpose.

Silene and I enter through the front doors, while Fionn sneaks around the back to secure an exit for us just in case. It’s gloomy and run down inside, nothing like the pristine and lively pubs of Arberly. A single barmaid wipes down the bar while a group of fae occupy a table in the corner, speaking quietly. Silene shrugs, and we take a seat at a table that has a view of both the front and back entrances.

The barmaid comes over, a human woman who can’t be more than a few decades old. “What can I get ya?” she asks.

I give her a wide, dashing grin. “Just two ales, please,” I say, winking.

As she walks away, Silene snorts. “Must you always flirt with every barkeep we ever encounter? What would Laurel say?” she asks in mock horror.

“One—yes, I must flirt with them, as it makes it easier to get information out of her when she comes back. And two—Laurel seems to pay little attention to who I do or do not flirt with, herself included.” The words come out more defensive and whining than I intend, like I’m pouting that a pretty girl won’t flirt back with me. It’s abhorrent. I try to recover the situation. “The Queen of Thayaria is a mark, nothing more, nothing less. She’s just been… difficult.” The lie is as much for myself as it is for Silene.

“I think Laurel notices you flirting with her,” Silene says with a knowing smile. “The two of you are blatantly obvious about your flirting. And we both know she’s much more than a mark, as you say.”

My cheeks heat, and I stammer out my response. “I—she’s not—we’re—”

Silene bursts out laughing. “I never thought I would see the day the Shining Prince of Velmara turns into a blubbering idiot over a female. Though I guess I’ve never actually seen you be interested in anyone, female or male, my entire life. It makes sense you’d be more like the rest of us when you actually care.”

I’m about to retort that I have no idea what she’s talking about when the barmaid returns, placing two ales on our table. I hand her a generous amount of Thayarian coin, then say, pointedly, “We’re meeting some folks here in about an hour. Not sure who they are or what they might look like, but we’re hoping you might know something about that.” I give her another conspiratorial grin.

She looks around, then says in hushed tones, “I might know something, might not. Hard to remember after such a long shift today with barely any tips.”

Silene snorts, and I give her a harsh look. Then I slip the woman a second coin. “Sorry to hear about the slow day. Maybe this will help.”

She takes the second coin, putting it in the pocket of her trousers. “I’m guessing you’re here for the rebels. I don’t get myself caught up in none of that, but they do frequent this place since it’s such a shit hole. What do you want to know?”

“When they meet, how many are usually here?”

“Depends,” she says with a shrug. “Day like today, where they’re recruitin’, it’ll probably be about two or three of them. Plus, they always keep a few outside to act as guards, case anything goes wrong.”

“Thank you. When they arrive, could you give us a signal?” I ask, sliding her another two coins. She nods, then walks away.

“Hate to say it,” Silene says, “but your royal coffers got her to talk, not your prince charming act.”

I give her a mock sneer as I stand. “I’m going to go tell Fionn he can come in now. If the most they’re going to have is a half dozen of them, we can take that and make it out, no problem.”

An hour later, two males enter, and the barmaid immediately looks over at me. I give her a nod but otherwise act oblivious to their arrival. Silene and Fionn stiffen beside me.

“The one on the left,” Fionn says. “He was one of the prisoners we helped escape. Laurel thought none of the prisoners were connected to leadership. I think she was wrong.”

I tense as the tall fae walks toward us, recognizing Fionn and Silene. He has bright red hair and midnight blue eyes that gleam with something that puts me on alert. The fae next to him is stout and muscular, covered in tattoos, with cropped chestnut hair and matching eyes. This must be the fae who ordered the attack on Rusthelm. Knowing I’m in the same room as the monster who decided a village should be punished for accepting help from their ruler makes me feel ill.

“Silene, Fionn,” the tall male says as they pull up chairs to our table and sit. “Thank you again for your help. I’d be rotting away if not for you.” They both nod, and he turns his gaze to me. “You must be the Shining Prince, Hawthorne Vicant himself,” he says with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I am,” I say coolly. “Though I can’t say I have the pleasure of knowing who you are.”

“My name is Krantz, and this is my second, Saff,” he says, nodding to the male beside him. “We are what most people would consider the leaders of the Sons and Daughters, though we prefer to think of ourselves as protectors.”

“And what is it you protect?” I ask, eyes narrowing.

“Well, the sons and daughters and Thayaria, of course,” he responds, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. Silene steps on my foot, and I take that as a sign to lighten up.

“Well, then, Krantz and Saff, great protectors of Thayaria, I’m pleased to make your acquaintance,” I say with my most magnanimous smile. Krantz grins himself and reaches out to shake my hand. I oblige, putting the tiniest zing of aether into my grip to remind him who he’s dealing with.

“We’ve wanted an alliance with Velmara for a long time. We know that your father, His Majesty the King, has spoken the truth about the Witch Queen for three hundred years. The outside world believed him, but here in Thayaria, her wicked magic swayed the people to her side. Only in the last fifty years have we started to see the reality of her corruption.”

I hate what I’m about to say, because I’ve seen the truth for myself. “The Witch Queen has pulled a veil over the eyes of Thayaria. I’m here to remove it so that you can finally see.”

“We knew the rumors that you were here to bring peace between Velmara and Thayaria were lies,” he spits back.

“I’m no Prince of Peace, of that I can assure you,” I tell him with a menacing snarl.

“I’m glad to hear it. And even more glad to hear it today, as we have an opportunity for you to hit the witch where it hurts most.” His eyes are bright with malice that makes my stomach roil.

“Oh?” I feign coolness. “And what might that be?”

“We’re going to attack Arberly, and we need you to help us.”

My stomach drops low in my gut, but I keep my expression indifferent. “Another poorly planned attempt to strike the Queen like what my advisor saw during court? I’d rather not dirty my tunic for something doomed to fail.”

His expression tightens. “No, this is nothing like that. We’ve been planning this for months. The attack you witnessed was merely a distraction to keep her spies sniffing in the wrong places. Had you not rescued us, we had our own plan for escape. We’re going to attack the city itself and show those loyalists who live there just how vulnerable they, and their Queen, really are.”

“What exactly is the target?” I ask, my heart now pumping a fast staccato.

“The target is the thayar processing tower, though the mission is to steal what we can from it, not destroy it. The merchant district is the distraction. That, we plan to leave in ruins.” My mind races, trying to think of a way out of this, a way to stop them.

“What do you need our help with?” Silene chimes in, ever the strategist.

Krantz looks at her like he hadn’t remembered she was there. A sneer crosses his face. “We need Prince Hawthorne’s help to sneak us into the processing tower. It’s heavily guarded, since it contains the largest supply of thayar in the entire kingdom.” He looks at me. “Once we saw how easily you kept Fionn and Silene cloaked, we knew we’d found the last missing piece we needed to pull this off. My people will cause a distraction in the merchant district, while you get a small group of us in and out. It’ll be simple.”

I desperately want to look toward Silene or Fionn sitting next to me to see if they’ve determined a way to stop this. But if they had, they’d have said something. “What are you planning on using the supply of thayar for?”

Once again, he gives me that cold and calculating smile that makes my skin crawl. “Don’t you worry, we have plenty of other plans in motion that will put that to use.” I clench my jaw once, struggling to hide the frustration I feel.

“I’d be happy to help.” I shove down my nausea.

“Excellent, Your Highness,” he says, smoothly. “We leave in an hour.”