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Laurel

Thayarian tradition demands that during the Winter Solstice, fae and human alike spend the day in rest. No work is done, even to cook. Thayarians are encouraged to spend the day with their loved ones.

A Brief History of Modern Thayaria

The two males blur in my vision as they whirl around the room. They lunge and parry, spin and duck. Thorne wasn’t kidding when he said the sparring we did was nothing compared to sparring with Fionn. The warrior somehow looks even more massive as he swings his blade over and over again. Thorne blocks every blow with practiced ease, but I still stand erect, anxiety coursing through my veins. At one point, Fionn summons every weapon on the rack and has them all diving at Thorne, who blocks them with shields of light that appear around him. Thorne sends his own weapons hurling at Fionn—arrows, throwing stars, orbs—all made of light. But Fionn easily dodges or blocks them with the two blades he keeps firmly grasped in his hands.

Silene stands beside me, looking bored. “It gets a bit tiring eventually, trust me,” she says. I laugh, but only for a moment before my eyes lock back on the two males weaving and bobbing around one another. If I’m honest with myself, I have eyes for only one of those males. Thorne’s muscles tense with every swing of his sword. My eyes track a bead of sweat rolling down his face toward his full lips, and I almost trip over myself as I lean forward to be closer to him.

Thorne summons more lightning bolts. They crack into the floor around Fionn, who dodges them and laughs. “I can see those coming from a mile away, friend,” he roars at Thorne, before sending a dagger zinging towards Thorne’s chest with aether-honed precision. My breath hitches, and I clutch my hand over my chest, feeling my heart beating wildly. It’s too similar to the moment Nemesia was almost killed by Mazus’s assassin in the war tent all those years ago. Silene notices and places her hand on my shoulder.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

I nod, taking a deep breath. “Yeah,” I respond. “It just reminds me of a moment I don’t care to remember.”

Silene seems to understand. “Alright, boys, that’s enough,” she calls out. The whirling ball of light and metal they had become slows, and they look over, both panting and smiling widely. Thorne’s eyes immediately find mine, and he frowns.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, but Silene cuts him off.

“We’re just tired of watching the two of you show off. I for one am ready for dinner.” With that, she hooks her arm through mine and marches me toward the door. I give her a look that I hope conveys my gratitude. Fionn and Thorne pick up the room, then follow us back to their apartment.

The dinner tray’s already been delivered to their rooms when we arrive. Silene unhooks herself from my arm and prances over to her and Thorne’s bedroom, hollering that she’s going to change, and we better not start dinner without her. It’s a good reminder of the reason I won’t explore my attraction for Thorne. If they’re just friends, as he says, why does she sleep there? Why does she keep her clothing there? Of course I know that many sexual partners don’t have rules of monogamy in their relationship, and maybe that’s the situation with Thorne. But if that were the case, why not tell me that instead of some lie about there being nothing between them? Does he consider sex to be so insignificant?

“Stay for dinner,” Thorne says, his low voice startling me. I hesitate, not wanting to intrude. I’m about to decline when he adds, “Please. Fionn and Silene might have an update from the rebels.”

He knows how to convince me. “Fine, I’ll stay,” I say with a long-suffering sigh I don’t really feel. He grins.

“What did you think of today?” he asks.

“It was a good lesson,” I respond genuinely. “I haven’t learned something new with my magic in at least a hundred years.”

He smiles wide, and this one is the real Thorne, not the winking and smirking prince. “Pretty soon you’ll be sparring with me like Fionn does. I’m sure of it.”

“As loath as I am to compliment your massive ego, that was impressive. I can’t imagine ever being able to fight like that.”

“You’ll get there, witchling.” He nudges my shoulder. “You have more power than the two of us combined. You just have to learn to let go and let your instincts take over.”

“I’m not entirely sure that’s wise.” What I don’t say is that the idea of totally letting go terrifies me. If I could put up a mist barrier that can’t be undone when I was untrained and barely coming into my power, what horror might I unleash with three hundred years of deepening my well of magic? If I let go, I might destroy my kingdom. Might destroy the world.

“And why is that?” he asks, eyes wholly focused on me with an intensity that makes me squirm. Lunaria could pounce on him right now and he wouldn’t notice, his gaze so focused on me.

“Because with power like mine… It’s important that I stay in control. Letting go could cause real damage.” It’s all I can admit to, the tiniest peek at my true feelings. But even these words are hard to whisper, a confession I didn’t know I needed to make. Relief eases across my chest, a weight lifting.

He leans forward to whisper in my ear. “I disagree, witchling. But there’s time for me to help you see that letting go doesn’t mean losing control entirely.” I can’t hide the shivers that rack my body.

“Alright, let’s eat,” Silene exclaims, returning from their bedroom and immediately filling a plate with food.

Thorne motions for me to go first, and I quickly put distance between us, especially after seeing Silene once again leave their shared room. After filling my plate with food, I make a point to sit beside Silene at the small dining table, not wanting the feeling Thorne’s presence brings me. He’s forced to sit across from me, and I quickly realize dining with his eyes lingering across my body, tracking every bite of food, is no better than sitting next to him. It might be worse.

“Did you make it to the granary?” I ask Silene and Fionn to distract myself from the way his attention makes my pulse thrum.

“We did,” Silene says through bites of food. “They left a message for us that basically said to lie low through Abscission, whatever that means, and to meet them in Oakton once the blooms begin again. Does that mean anything to you?” I laugh as a piece of bread falls from her mouth.

“You’re quite the lady,” I tease, and the room erupts in laughter. It warms something up inside of me, and for a moment, I can forget Thorne’s drifting gaze and bask in the glow of friendship. When we finally ease back into a comfortable silence, I explain to Fionn and Silene what Abscission is.

“So basically, we won’t really communicate with the rebels again for several weeks,” Silene says when I’m finished, and I nod.

“And you won’t have any sub-committee meetings either during Abscission,” I tell her. “The kingdom pretty much shuts down. Everyone sleeps in, spends time with family, and rests.”

“That sounds like a great tradition,” she remarks excitedly. “I’m finally going to read some of those saucy books you loaned me.” Thorne chokes on his water, looking at me expectantly. Heat rises to my cheeks.

“What? I just gave her a few romance books from my collection,” I deflect.

“Saucy?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

“They’re just really… exciting,” I respond, and Silene and Thorne both break out laughing again.

“What will the people in the merchant district do?” Fionn asks, and the mood sobers. I take a swallow of wine before answering.

“We have a little less than a week to get them into temporary shelters,” I explain. “Once Winter Solstice and Abscission arrive, it’ll be too cold to do much else in the district. My advisors’ number one priority is finding them a place to stay until we can rebuild their homes.”

“Where will they go if they don’t have family to stay with?” Fionn’s eyes are bright as he listens intently to my words.

“Here. The palace is deceptively large. There are entire wings under the mountain that aren’t in use. We have more than enough rooms for displaced families. The real challenge is getting them cleaned and properly set up in time.”

Fionn looks thoughtful. “You’ll house them here? What if there are rebels among them? It could be another trick, to sneak inside so they can launch another attack.”

“That’s a risk we’ll have to take,” I say somberly. I considered the very question, worried we’d have another attack inside the palace. “It’s the best option with the timeline we have. I have to trust that the rebels will honor this kingdom’s most sacred tradition and rest for the next few weeks. Besides, I won’t leave my people without shelter, no matter the risk.” Fionn gazes at me with a look of newfound respect, and the approval of this warrior lifts something inside of me.

“We’ll help prepare rooms,” Silene says cheerfully. “I can sweep dust with my air channeling. And Fionn can help move any furniture with metal in it. Thorne, well, I’m not exactly sure how he’ll be able to help, since light doesn’t really do much and he hates any kind of physical labor or cleaning…”

Thorne scoffs and looks offended. “One—may I remind you I’m also a water channeler, and water is typically very useful when cleaning. Two—I don’t hate physical labor or cleaning. I just prefer not to do it if I don’t have to. With the number of servants always swarming me in Velmara, setting them a cleaning task was sometimes the only way to get a moment of peace and quiet.”

We all laugh at his expense, Thorne included. The dinner passes in camaraderie and laughter, and I find myself more excited for an Abscission than I have been in a long time.

The next week passes in a frenzy of cleaning, moving furniture, and hauling boxes of belongings into rooms in the palace. All three of the Velmarans are true to their word, working tirelessly alongside my advisors and me to prepare comfortable lodging for those without alternative shelter. Silene even convinces me to throw a Winter Solstice dinner and invite everyone staying in the palace. She takes on most of the planning, becoming fast friends with the advisors and servants she works with. Silene probably becomes fast friends with everyone she meets. After six days of hard work, we successfully get everyone settled.

On the morning of Winter Solstice, I wake up in my bed, the air cold even to me. As usual, Lunaria prowled outside overnight, so I left the balcony doors open, and the frigid air makes my breath come in puffs I can see. I’m covered in a multitude of blankets and furs, and I loathe the idea of getting out of bed, so I use my magic to start a fire and heat the room.

Thankfully, it’s Winter Solstice, which means I get to laze around with the rest of my kingdom and do absolutely nothing. I have complicated feelings about this day, though. I love the Thayarian tradition of rest, but each year it reminds me of my loneliness. I’ve spent a few Solstices with lovers, but usually it’s just Nemesia and me, since both of our parents died in the war and it’s incredibly uncommon for fae to have more than one child. We always build a massive fire in my room and lay in my bed together reading all day, eating whatever pastries or other sweets we can pilfer from the kitchens. I notice her absence even more deeply today as I lay alone in my bed, realizing I have no one to spend the day with. I wonder not for the first time what she’s doing. If she’s safe. If she’s happy.

Spotting Lunaria fast asleep at my feet, I channel a gust of wind that shuts the balcony doors. That startles her, and she stretches before gingerly making her way to my side and curling up next to me.

“Late night?” I ask. She only nuzzles closer to me. I grab the book on my nightstand, excited for a morning of reading about Cairn and Stella, the characters in my most recent saucy book.

An hour later, the room has warmed and Lunaria’s body heat seeps into me. I’m sweating, so I throw the blankets off, which disturbs my cat. She gives me a grumpy look before leaping from the bed to her pallet in the corner, where she falls back asleep.

“What a drama queen,” I mutter under my breath. I stretch my arms high above my head, releasing the pressure in my shoulders and back, then step out of the bed to make myself a cup of tea.

Just as I’m settling onto the couch in my sitting room, there’s a knock at my door. I’m not expecting anyone, so I step cautiously toward it. I pool light in my hand, then open it a crack. Thorne stands there, alone, grinning from ear to ear. He notices the light in my hand.

“I’m glad you’re taking precautions to defend yourself with what I taught you,” he says.

“Why are you here?” I ask, opening the door fully. Thorne’s eyes widen, and his gaze tracks up and down my body. Heat builds in his expression, his jaw going slack and his eyes dilating. “Hello? What are you doing?” I snap.

Thorne startles. “Well—uh—” He coughs, and I cross my arms over my chest in impatience, which only makes his gaze darken. “Uh, in Velmara, the Winter Solstice…” He moves his eyes to stare at something over my shoulder. “We celebrate by exchanging gifts. Silene has sent here me on strict orders to bring you with me.”

It finally hits me—I opened the door in my chemise, a short length of gauzy and nearly transparent fabric. I want to hide myself in shame. My mortification forces me to wave Thorne in before quickly turning and grabbing a robe draped over the couch. Thorne says nothing, though his gaze returns to my face now that my body is covered.

“In true Silene fashion,” he continues, “she’s somehow managed to organize a dinner for hundreds of people while also finding time to shop for gifts and help move said people into the palace. I’m merely a messenger, witchling. But I fear if I return without you, Silene may lose that chipper personality she’s so known for and rip my still-beating heart out from my chest. She’s learned a thing or two from the Witch Queen while in Thayaria.” He winks in that classic Thorne way.

Panic grips my gut. “But, I don’t have gifts for any of you. I—I didn’t know. It’s not something we do here in Thayaria,” I confess.

“You’ve already given us our gift.” When I look confused, he continues. “The greenhouse. It’s the best gift we could’ve asked for in this arctic wasteland. You weren’t kidding when you said it would get cold.”

“The cold gets worse,” I tell him absentmindedly, my mind racing. The greenhouse, while a gift of sorts, is not sufficient. “Come in and sit down for a moment,” I tell him before racing off.

I gather the things I need, stuffing them into a bag, then rush to my closet. I dress in warm trousers and a long-sleeved tunic, buttoning it up over my cleavage to make up for what he previously saw. Grabbing my bag, I motion for us to leave, then follow Thorne down the endless staircases.

“I can aerstep us,” I say grumpily. “I hate these stairs. I never take them.”

His lips twitch. “Silene also ordered me to take the long way to make sure she had enough time to get everything in place. Also, you do live at the top of these stairs. In a giant palace with endless rooms to choose from. This seems like your own fault.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a super powerful witch who can magically appear anywhere I want in an instant. Where I live doesn’t matter,” I quip back.

“Except when faced with the unstoppable power of one Silene Kalmeera. She’s a force of nature. In a tiny little fae body,” he says, and I can’t stop the deep belly laugh that erupts from me.

“That she is,” I say with real fondness when I finally stop laughing, and his eyes are bright with amusement. We walk down the endless stairs, trading flirtatious barbs despite my resolve to be nothing more than allies. Maybe the flirting is harmless, anyway. It’s not like he doesn’t flirt with everyone else around him. I’m no different than everyone else.

When we come to the wing of the palace with the greenhouse, I’m surprised when he leads me there. “We’re meeting in here?” I ask, but he only smirks before throwing the doors wide open.

Silene has transformed the room. Plants line the edges of the space, stacked neatly together but not overcrowded, their vibrant hues popping against the dreary landscape beyond the glass panels. In the newly cleared area is a giant rug with brightly colored poufs that match the brightness of the exotic flowers around them. A pile of gifts sits in the middle of the rug, and there’s a spread of pastries off to the side with several pots of tea.

Silene is bouncing with excitement. “Happy Solstice, Laurel!” she squeals before rushing over and giving me a tight hug. I still for only a moment, surprised by the contact, but then easily wrap my arms around her to return the squeeze. She takes my hand and leads me to a pouf. “When Thorne showed me the greenhouse, I knew we had to have our Solstice morning celebration in here. It feels so much like Velmara. It was such a thoughtful gesture.” The genuine warmth in her expression makes me smile.

“I wish I’d known you guys exchanged gifts. I would have prepared…” I say, but Silene cuts me off.

“Nonsense. You’ve already given us something wonderful. The gift of home on a holiday is more than we could have asked for.”

“Agreed,” Fionn adds. The giant male sits on a pouf next to me, his long limbs awkwardly curled up next to him. I have to stifle giggles at the comical sight.

Thorne appears at my side with a cup of tea, lightened with just the right amount of cream. I take a sip, and sigh. It’s perfect. No sugar, the right ratios. Then I realize the servants aren’t working this morning, so they shouldn’t have my favorite cream for tea. “You have cream?” I ask, incredulous.

“Thorne had the servants bring extra the last few days so we could save up enough for you since you need so much of it in your tea,” Silene tells me with a mischievous look I don’t understand. Thorne blushes, and the sight… It melts my insides to see the usually cool and collected charmer blushing.

“Thank… uh… thank you,” I manage to get out. The gesture is so thoughtful. It sends me spiraling, especially the fact that Silene is aware of it and seems in on it. Maybe she just appreciates seeing her betrothed show the kindness she clearly values so much. A small, hopeful voice whispers that maybe they don’t have feelings for one another, that the betrothal really is just political, like Thorne said. I smother it. Even if that’s the case, it doesn’t change the situation we’re in. Now is not the time for me to entertain such distractions. I’m hosting a ball tonight in the palace because hundreds of my people lost their homes only days ago. I shouldn’t be worried about males who are shameless flirts and likely only want me for the conquest it would be.

Thorne sits next to Silene with the tray of pastries in his hands. He takes one, then passes it to her. When it reaches me, I’m delighted to find my favorite sweet bread on the tray. “Where did you get the pastries?” Now Fionn blushes.

“There was a baker whose shop wasn’t impacted by the attack and who took in as many displaced people as he could,” Fionn says. “I bought out his entire shop yesterday. It seemed like the least I could do.” Once again, the hulking male surprises me with his gentleness.

“Time for gifts!” Silene cheers. She grabs a parcel wrapped in black paper ornamented with thayar flowers and hands it to me. “Open it, open it!” I peel the paper back and frown at the compact silver box in my hands. Opening the lid, my confusion grows when I see what’s inside. I look up at Silene. “It’s a travel makeup container,” she informs me. “It has dark kohl, dark red lipstick, eye paint—everything you need to transform into the Witch Queen on a moment’s notice. I noticed how much you rely on the makeup when you’re in public. Now you can carry that little mask with you for whenever you need it.”

I swallow down the lump in my throat. It’s extremely thoughtful and affects me more than I can say. “Thank you,” I whisper.

Silene moves on to watch Fionn and Thorne open their gifts from her. An extremely well-made dagger for Fionn with thayars carved into the hilt, and a pair of silk lounge pants for Thorne. I catch myself analyzing her gift for Thorne, wondering if it’s the gift of a lover or just a friend, before I scold myself for caring . It doesn’t matter what his betrothed got him. Focus on helping your people.

I don’t get to watch Silene open her gift from Thorne, because Fionn hands me a small package. I’m surprised. I assumed only Silene would give me a gift. The box reveals a set of small and very sharp metal pins.

“These are popular in Velmara with female metal channelers, and I found a blacksmith here who would make them for me. You pin them into your sleeve, so that you always have a weapon on you. With enough force, these sharp little things can do serious damage to an enemy. You need that protection on you at all times, queenie.” His smile is mischievous, revealing a side to him I’ve never seen. And the nickname—it hints at an acceptance of me by the warrior that I didn’t know I desired.

Overwhelmed by a second thoughtful gift, I stifle the emotion surging through me. “That’s so kind, Fionn. I’ll wear them every day,” I promise, and he beams.

All three of them have considered me in every aspect of their plans for this day. It makes me uncomfortable while also lighting up something inside of me I thought I buried long ago. The more time we spend together, the more open I am with them, and that’s dangerous, for them and for me. Despite the casual way Thorne invited me here today, I sense the significance of spending this day together. If I let it, today will solidify our alliance—our budding friendship. Is that what I want? Do I actually care for these Velmarans, or am I simply feeling vulnerable without Nemesia? Before I can even consider the question fully, I know the answer, and that scares me.

Determined to ignore these feelings, I reach for my bag, pulling out the lump of ore I’d nabbed for Fionn before leaving my room, and hand the hunk of metal to him. He looks at it a few moments, brows furrowed, before thanking me politely. I laugh.

“You don’t even know what it is.”

“It’s, uh, a rock. It’s a great gift,” he says sheepishly, and I burst out laughing.

“If that’s all it was, it would be a terrible gift. It’s not just a rock. It’s ore refined with thayar petals and stems. It makes the metal even more sensitive to the aether and fluid in its shape. A skilled metal channeler can shape it into different weapons instantly, like how a light channeler can shape their weapons. Thorne won’t be able to beat you ever again with this in your pocket.” I give him a conspiratorial grin.

His eyes widen, and he looks at the gift with a new appreciation. He closes his eyes, and the metal slowly shifts into two daggers, then a short sword, before morphing back into a misshapen hunk.

“This might be the best present I’ve ever received, queenie,” he says with wonder in his voice that’s so unusual for the warrior, and my heart squeezes. I leave him to test out the properties of the gift.

“Silene, I have something for you,” I tell her. “It’s not much, but I couldn’t just let my gift be a warm room with some plants.” I hand her the book. She flips through it and her eyes light up with glee.

“What is it?” Thorne asks.

“It’s a biography of the first female General of Thayaria. She was a formidable warrior, but also a brilliant strategist. Nemesia never shuts up about her. And she also happened to be fun-sized like Silene.”

“There are actual war strategies in here!” she exclaims. “And fighting techniques for someone with a smaller stature. Thank you!” I smile as she starts reading immediately, then I stand and walk to the bar cart in the corner to refill my mug with more tea.

“I have a gift for you as well,” Thorne says from behind me, and I jump. He’s so good at sneaking up on me. He hands me a small parcel wrapped in cream and navy parchment. My heart flutters at the sight of his signature colors. I set the mug down on the bar cart, then tentatively take the gift from him. I open it to find a delicate and finely crafted gold necklace of a lightning bolt. I look up at him expectantly. “Channeling lightning is the hardest of the light magic because it’s so unpredictable,” he tells me, eyes locked on mine in an intense gaze. “It requires the wielder to give up control, to trust that even if the path it takes down from the sky isn’t what we would have imagined, it will still strike where we want it to.” I swallow, keeping my eyes on his handsome face. “May I?” he asks, gesturing to the necklace and then my neck. I nod.

He takes the necklace out of my hands, then stands behind me. I feel his breath on the nape of my neck as he gently moves my hair to the side, and my back arches toward him just slightly, something akin to lightning striking in my core. He brings the necklace over my head. As he clasps it, he continues his explanation, voice a delicious low tenor.

“The sun is the symbol of my father, of the throne of Velmara. But the lightning bolt is also a reminder to him and to everyone in Velmara that the real power lies with those who channel true light. Those who oppose his rule wear a lightning bolt as a small act of rebellion.” His hands rest on my shoulders now, thumbs rubbing gentle strokes across the fabric of my gown. He leans down and whispers in my ear. “I wanted you to have this lightning bolt to remind you to let go and to bring a piece of resistance against my father with you wherever you go.” I shiver as he moves away, feeling the absence of warmth where his hands once were. I touch the necklace, and I swear it sparks under my fingers. Thorne turns me to face him. With slow, intentional movements, he takes my cup from the table, fills it with tea and cream, then hands it back to me, his gaze never leaving mine. “Happy Solstice, witchling,” he says, practically a growl. I’m speechless, so touched by his gift that I have no words.

I remember the gift I found for him and awkwardly walk away, muttering “stay here.” I grab my bag, then cross the room toward him, where he stands leaning against the wall with that effortless grace I’ve grown so accustomed to. “My gift is really just a loan, because you have to give it back.” He raises an eyebrow, and I hand him the ancient and massive book on thayar.

“This is Thayaria’s oldest and most comprehensive text on thayar flowers. Well, it’s a copy that I had made so I could annotate it. I read it often. Every day, pretty much, and centuries of my notes on the flower are in there, along with places where I’ve added information from my experience with the aether and the flower. I thought… I thought maybe you’d like to read it to see what your father might be up to. Fresh eyes and all that. It seems silly compared to your gift, but it’s all I had in my room at the moment…” My cheeks heat, voice rising higher and higher as I speak.

He cuts me off, placing his hand on my arm. The touch burns deliciously where his fingers trail over my skin. “It’s perfect. I’ll read it thoroughly and treat it with care. And I cannot begin to tell you how excited I am to see notes from a young Laurel. Thank you for trusting me with it.”

I look into his eyes, and they bore into me. He always seems to see right down to my very core. It’s infuriating. It’s thrilling. It’s everything. I can’t look away, and it’s only when Fionn makes a pointed cough in our direction that I realize we’ve been standing there, staring at one another for who knows how long. I shuffle back to my pouf and sit down, eyes decidedly not on Thorne as he returns to his own seat.