Page 49

Nemesia

While mates are said to be random, at the discretion of the gods or fate, certain pairings appear to be part of the very fabric of our world . Thayarian rulers often find themselves with a Velmaran mate, specifically a powerful light channeler, and often the strongest light channeler alive during their rule . None know why fate favors these matches so frequently, and neither the Andomer nor the Elestren lines have ever offered their own explanations for the phenomenon.

The Traditions of the Fae

“Can we have dinner again tonight?” Genevieve asks me suggestively after lunch as I settle back in for a long afternoon of research. Even though I love her office, I try to spend some of my time out in the archives so people don’t grow suspicious of where I am. Her eyes are bright with mischief and lust, and it stirs my own desire. She’s proven to be an excellent lover, despite her lack of experience. Teaching her new things has been more exhilarating than I expected. There’s an urgency to her need, like she feels she needs to experience everything before it slips away from her.

“I’d like that,” I say with a knowing smile, and she blushes. “I have a few more texts to show you, as I’d like your opinion on their meaning,” I add loudly to protect our cover of researcher and librarian, though I’m not sure anyone cares what Genevieve does with her time. She’s as forgotten as the books deep in the archives detailing royal coin balances throughout the centuries.

“Yes, I would be happy to assist you,” she says, the innuendo clear, and my thighs turn slick. Genevieve walks away, hips swishing in her gown. I stare at her ass until she turns the corner.

Brushing aside images of what I want to do to her tonight, I return to the text I’ve been reading all morning, The Secrets and Stories of Velmara . The section where Genevieve found the information about Mazus’s line—the Vicants—forcibly taking the throne from the Andomers has proven most illuminating. Not only did the Andomers rule Velmara, but they have their own prophecies about a prince who will bring light in the darkness, uniting peoples or realms, depending on which oral history is being detailed. It could be an iteration on the prophecy of the Thayarian Queen, derived from the same stories but branching at some point in history for different peoples. But they’re not quite similar enough to make that likely.

The Andomer line is strong, and this prophesied prince is supposed to be the strongest among them. I can’t help but draw connections to Prince Hawthorne, who’s rumored to be the strongest light channeler at least in living memory. Laurel has never given much credit to the prophecy so many believe is about her, so I’ve rarely studied it, not wanting to poke a still-sore wound. But if Hawthorne is the Prince of Andomer in the prophecy, and Laurel is the Queen of the Thayarian prophecy, then the two of them are surely connected in some way. I told Laurel I suspected Mazus wanted her and Prince Hawthorne to meet, and these revelations only heighten that suspicion.

I’m pondering the possibility that the prophecies about Laurel and Prince Hawthorne are connected when a servant arrives with a roll of parchment, sealed with Mazus’s signet. Sighing, I take the missive from her and open it. Mazus has requested my presence in three evening’s time for another dinner and has apparently already dispatched servants with my attire for the affair, indicating this is not a request but a summons. Not that I had any delusions otherwise.

I return to my research, frustrated that I’m beholden to the King’s whims, but with a renewed sense of urgency, hoping to find something useful by the time we meet. I return to translating The Traditions of the Fae . It’s been slow work, and I’ve had to take breaks from it to maintain my sanity. I’ve been working on the section on fae religion, but after reading more about Prince Hawthorne’s potential significance in Andomer lore, I decide to return to the passages on mates, a question percolating in the back of my mind.

This book is the closest I’ve come to a primary source, detailing the traditions, customs, and stories of the fae at the time it was written. I have no idea how old it is, though it must be ancient to discuss mates as if they exist. I slowly comb my way through a history of prominent mated pairs, unsure if the names are significant. Feeling like this is unproductive, I skip ahead through the six pages of recorded names. If there are this many recorded names, mates cannot have only ever been myth. But why they’ve disappeared from our world is still a mystery. The old fae character for Thayaria catches my attention, and I stop to translate the passage that mentions my kingdom.

I double and then triple check my work, heart racing. According to the passage, Thayarian rulers once frequently found themselves with a Velmaran mate. Specifically, with a powerful light channeler, from the Andomer line, as a mate. The pieces are slowly coming together, and they paint a troubling picture.

Laurel and Prince Hawthorne must be mates . And while that would normally bring me joy at the thought of my best friend—my sister—finding the great love she’s always been promised, the fact that Mazus gave me these books means he must also know. He intentionally sent the Prince there for them to discover their connection, though for what end, I cannot say. And while the stories about Prince Hawthorne paint him as a powerful but unintelligent flirt, what if he knows and is working with Mazus? He’s the son of the Golden King, after all.

Laurel is in danger . That thought echoes nonstop through my mind as I continue my frantic translation. I don’t know how much time passes, only that I must keep going, for Laurel’s sake. I startle out of my research haze when Genevieve approaches my workstation.

“Nemesia,” she says, eyes smiling. “You’ve surely lost track of time. I haven’t seen you take a break all afternoon.”

The fact that she’s been observing me doesn’t go unnoticed, but I’m too frazzled by my discoveries to comment on it. I consider canceling our dinner plans in order to continue the research but decide against it when I see the excitement written so clearly across her features. It physically pains me to leave the research behind, but Genevieve has become a priority for me. She’s had so few give her any attention or care her entire life. I won’t break her heart.

“It was a productive day for me,” I admit, though that’s as close as I can come to the truth of what I’ve discovered, what I fear. “I’m grateful you pulled me out of my studies, as I might have been here all night if not for you. And I’m still eager to discuss the earlier matter with you over dinner this evening.” Meaning fills my eyes, and I love the way she drops her eyes to the ground as she blushes.

Once I’ve packed up, we walk side by side to my room, hands brushing but not daring to clasp together. Dinner is forgotten the moment we close the door behind us, clothes and undergarments hitting the floor in a frenzy. Genevieve has grown bolder these last weeks, and she pushes my naked body onto the bed, spreading my legs wide as she brings her mouth to the apex of my thighs. Normally I’m a very giving lover, preferring to take care of my partner before myself, but I know Genevieve craves the ability to be bold, to be in control, so I let her do whatever she wants. I moan as her soft lips bring me to climax, and as soon as my pleasure finishes its crest, I grab her body and push her to the mattress. She makes the sweetest breathy whimpers when she comes, and now is no different.

“Nemesia,” she groans when I pull my mouth from between her legs, and I wrap her up in my arms and press a kiss to her temple. We lay there naked in my bed, trailing soft touches over one another’s bodies as we discuss our days. “What did you discover today?” she asks, and I know she’s genuine in her curiosity about my research. I hesitate, worried revealing the information about Laurel and the Prince might put her in danger.

“I don’t know if I should tell you,” I start slowly. “For your own protection. What I found, what I suspect, could expose you to danger.” Even this admission is a risk, but if I’m honest with myself, I want to tell her, want to share this burden. Her soft brown eyes study mine, expression firm and decided.

“I want to know anyway.” I start to protest, but she holds up her hand to silence me. “I know you’re here looking for something important. And I know that even if you and His Majesty pretend at cordiality, there’s still tension between you and between Velmara and Thayaria. What is it that could be so dangerous?” I’m about to refuse, to tell her the risk is too great, when she surprises me. “I’ve also discovered something that may be dangerous, in the book you lent me from His Majesty’s collection.”

“Tell me,” I command, all General in my voice. But Genevieve only smiles, unaffected by my imposing tone.

“You first,” she whispers, rubbing a circle around my exposed nipple. I drop my head back at the sensation and close my eyes, loving the way her soft skin feels on mine.

“Not fair,” I grunt, but she only laughs, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

“Open your eyes.” I do. Her warm amber eyes bore into me. “Tell me, please.” The request is so gentle but filled with so many unspoken words. She wants me to trust her, wants me to open up. It’s a choice I have to make, one that I’m not sure I’m ready to make. She’s been the best thing about Velmara, and I care for her. I don’t want to put her in danger, but I don’t think I can bear the look of hurt I know will cross her face if I don’t reveal this secret.

So I tell her everything. The discovery that mates may be real, my suspicions that Laurel and Prince Hawthorne are mates, that Mazus likely knows and sent the Prince there for that purpose. My worry about his motivation for wanting them to connect with one another. The fear that the Prince is working with his father and hopes to use the connection to crush Laurel. I let my loathing of the King bleed into my voice for the first time since coming to Velmara, but she doesn’t shy away. When I’m finished, she sighs.

“I used to believe the Golden King was truly a hero, someone who desperately tried to save the people of Thayaria from their terrible ruler. But as the years have gone by, I’ve seen his propaganda machine at work, seen the way the histories are rewritten for storage in the archives. I’ve been skeptical of him for years, but after I discovered that the Vicants took the throne by force, it was like all these disparate facts I’d been holding finally came together. I’ve read through Blood Magic Through the Ages no less than four times, and it—it tells a story I’m afraid to say aloud.” Her lips are trembling, and her body shakes. I wrap her in my arms, kissing the top of her head and stroking her hair.

“It’s okay. Please tell me. Your secret’s safe with me,” I soothe. She takes a single deep breath before spilling what she’s learned.

“There’s a passage that mentions that blood magic is an inherited trait. Not just anyone can practice it. You need an affinity, just like with any other conduit, though the power is extremely rare.” My mind races to fit the knowledge into what I already know. “It also said that the blood mage lineage originally came from Velmara. I think—based on what I’ve read… It seems to be unlikely that the Witch Queen—that Queen Laurel—would be a blood mage. King Mazus must have made that up.”

I laugh aloud, and it startles her. “Sorry, but of course Laurel isn’t a blood mage. I already knew that,” I tell her gently. She blushes in embarrassment.

“Of course you did. I didn’t mean, didn’t—”

“It’s okay,” I say, relieving her from her adorable discomfort with a squeeze. She blushes again but then turns somber.

“Nemesia, there’s more.” Her expression is grim once again. “This is just a hunch, there’s nothing in the text to confirm it. But it talks about how the blood mages were a powerful family in Velmaran history, second only to the Andomers. The family isn’t named, but the only other magical line that would make sense…” She trails off, clearly afraid to speak the words aloud.

“The Vicants,” I finish for her, and she nods, eyes wide. My mind swirls, the information unlocking the final piece of the puzzle for me.

“We both wondered what could take down the Andomer line, what could steal a throne away from a family with the most powerful conduit in the Four Kingdoms. I think we have our answer.” She whispers the last words, so afraid and yet so courageous for putting these pieces together, for not ignoring the obvious truth sitting in front of her. Most people are content to believe the lies they’re told, to go along with the status quo for fear of the unknown. But not Genevieve. The world has used and abused her, shown so many times that adherence to the way things are is the only way to keep her safe. And yet, still, she fights back.

“Listen to me, Genevieve.” The army General is back in my voice. “You must not tell this to anyone. Don’t even reveal that I let you read through these books from Mazus. He clearly wanted me to come to these conclusions on my own, despite how dangerous they are for him. I fear there’s more going on here than we’ve uncovered.” She nods, eyes wide in fear. “I’m having dinner with him in three days. I’ll use the opportunity to see how he tries to goad me, and then I’m going to leave Velmara. I’ve discovered everything I need to, and I must warn Laurel before it’s too late. Will you—will you come with me?”

I shock myself with the request. I’ve never taken a serious lover, preferring casual one evening affairs or clear physical-only relationships. Boundaries between my sex life and my personal life have always been firmly in place, a necessity considering my position in Thayaria. And even though I know I’m not in love with Genevieve—not yet, at least—I know that she’s the first female who’s ever made me care this much. She’s the only person who’s been able to crack me wide open and start healing all the parts of me I’ve hidden away. The promise of what we might become in Thayaria, away from Velmara’s rules and customs, gives me so much hope for the future. It ignites something in my chest, making me hold my breath as I wait for her answer.

She hesitates, clearly unsure how to respond. I can understand her fear—her entire life’s been spent in the archives. Not to mention, she’s been pulled into a scheme to leave by someone she trusted before, with her governess, and it cost her so much. Leaving must be a terrifying prospect for her, but she nods in agreement, and I release a sigh of relief.

“Meet me in my room the night I dine with Mazus. Pack a bag, but pack light. Until then, we shouldn’t be seen together.” She only nods. I give her one last squeeze, then return us both to a sitting position. “You shouldn’t stay here tonight. Go back to your rooms and make a point to not be seen in my company for the next few days.”

Genevieve dresses quickly, and with a brief kiss, she departs. I only hope I can get us both out according to plan.

I pass the remaining days pouring through the books Mazus gave me, trying to get every possible detail locked away in my memory in case the books don’t make it out with me. I plan to pack them into a bag, but I also want to be prepared if something goes amiss. I’ve found an air channeler willing to take a significant bribe to aerstep us back to Thayaria. Once the dinner is over, I need to collect Genevieve, then get us safely to the Floating Market. True to her word, Genevieve stays away, and I don’t see her at all, not even in the archives.

When the evening of the dinner arrives, I dress in the scrap of fabric Mazus sent as my gown, this one even skimpier than the first. Like before, I wear fighting leathers underneath and use ivy vines to weave more coverage over my chest and arms. I sheath multiple daggers to my person, both visible and hidden. I spent the afternoon in my room, packing a single bag with my belongings and the books I hope to smuggle out with me.

Genevieve is supposed to meet me in my room and stay here until I return from the dinner with Mazus—she should be here by now. As I pace back and forth across the floor, anxiety courses through me about what might have kept her. She’s never been late before, but she could also just be struggling to sneak away undetected. Did she decide she doesn’t want to come after all? After five more minutes of pacing, I can’t delay any longer and have to leave without our plan fully in place. I leave the door unlocked so she can enter my room when she arrives. If she arrives.

When I approach the doors to Mazus’s private dining room, I’m escorted in by several guards in golden armor. Mazus isn’t here, but servants have already set out food on the table, so I make myself a plate, hoping it irks him when he arrives. I’ve taken my first bite when the Golden King strides in, adorned in cream clothing covered in gold embroidery. I don’t stand at his arrival and a deep sense of satisfaction courses through me when I see how his jaw clenches at the disrespect.

“Nemesia,” he says, splaying his arms wide. “I’m so glad you’ve made yourself so at home here in my palace.” He sits down and servants rush into the room to fill his goblet with wine and serve him food. “I trust you’ve found the books I had delivered useful?”

“Indeed, I have. Thank you,” I say, then take another bite of food, and I can tell it annoys him. I elect to keep up the strategy of saying very little. Let him show his hand first.

“And what have been your most exciting discoveries?” He can’t drop the subject, a sure sign these books were sent for a specific purpose. I take another bite of food, chewing slowly, then swallow several gulps of wine before I set my fork down and stare at him.

“Why don’t you just tell me what you’re hoping I found, and we can skip the part where we dance around one another,” I say with an edge in my voice. Mazus laughs, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“You remind me of my son. Thorne also has little patience for my schemes. Perhaps that’s why Queen Laurel has grown so close to him. He reminds her of you. Or is it the other way around? Hard to say, when magical bonds are involved.” His eyes swirl with knowing. I keep my expression neutral, not rising to the bait. Let him wonder what conclusions I’ve come to .

“I haven’t had any correspondence with Her Majesty, so I can’t comment on whether she and the Prince have become close. You seem to be better informed than I. Though I’m happy she’s getting to know the emissary. That was the whole point of the arrangement, was it not?” I raise my brow, challenging him to reveal more.

“I’ve received word that the two have been extremely close, as I had hoped.” I want to roll my eyes, but I keep my face stoic.

“Why did you hope for them to grow close?” I ask nonchalantly. He grins, seeing through my facade.

“Now, now, you can’t expect me to answer that truthfully,” he says with a sarcastic sneer.

I shrug. “Not really. I don’t actually care. I’m happy Laurel has found a friend in my absence. Life has been hard on her, after you convinced everyone she was the villain in the story.”

“And you believe she is not?”

I nearly choke on my wine. “We both know there’s only one villain in the story of the war between Thayaria and Velmara, and it’s not Laurel,” I spit, cursing myself for letting him get under my skin. He only grins.

“Let me let you in on a little secret.” He leans in, pure malice in his eyes. “Villains, heroes, it’s all irrelevant. What matters is power, and what you do with it. I’m a hero because I made myself one with the power I claimed. Laurel is the villain because I said she was one. If she wanted to change the narrative, she should have fought harder, should have won .”

“You think highly of yourself for a man who inherited a stolen throne, won a war against a twenty-year-old newly crowned monarch, and can only single channel,” I respond coolly. The remark has the intended effect. His eyes widen in anger, and he stands. So, he didn’t intend for me to find out about his blood magic . Just the mates .

He laughs maniacally. “I can assure you, I’m more than a simple air channeler. And while I may have inherited my throne, I’ve had to keep it, had to expand my power and influence, and I’ve done that all alone.”

I slow clap. “Very good, Mazus. I’m sure your parents are so proud. Are we done here?” His eyes light up with something I can’t decipher, but he waves his hand.

“You’re dismissed.”

I leave the room quickly, mind racing and eager to return to my room and get out of Velmara with Genevieve. My steps echo loudly in the castle, eerily quiet for this time of day. When I get to my room, I stop in my tracks. The door is ajar. Surely Genevieve wouldn’t have been so careless as to leave it open. I unsheathe a knife, walking slowly towards the open door.

“Genevieve,” I call out, but don’t get a response. I enter the room, and it takes my brain a moment to process what I’m seeing. Genevieve has been tied up and gagged, and both Mazus and a man I recognize as Silas Kalmeera are standing over her. Mazus must have known my plans and aerstepped here immediately.

“So glad you could join us,” Mazus says, a haughty glint in his eyes. Silas just sneers at me.

“Neme… rrrrnnn!” Genevieve tries to yell through her gag, though it comes out as a muffled grunt.

“Let Genevieve go. This has nothing to do with her,” I say, raising my knife.

“Oh, but you see, it does,” Mazus says. “As soon as Silas offered Genevieve a place in the family again, if only she would reveal what the two of you had discovered, she spilled all your secrets immediately.”

Genevieve’s eyes go wide, and she struggles against her bonds, and my heart feels like it’s dropped to my stomach. Words I cannot decipher come out as murmurs from her gagged lips as she fiercely shakes her head side to side. I look back and forth between her and Mazus, completely lost. Why send me the books if he didn’t want me to discover something? Why bribe Genevieve to reveal our research in books he lent me? I want to run, but I need the books, must risk everything to bring them back to Laurel. I lunge for my pack, scooping it into my arms and drop it behind me. In response, Silas holds a knife to Genevieve’s throat.

“Don’t move, girl, or I’ll slit her throat,” he growls. “Now that I know what an abomination she is, having intimate relations with another female, I’m looking for any excuse to exterminate her.”

I’m taken aback by the vitriol in his voice. While I intellectually knew that Velmarans looked down on relationships between females, experiencing their hatred firsthand is an entirely different experience. Genevieve’s amber eyes stare up at me, shining with tears and shame that breaks my heart. She struggles against her bonds again, but Silas only presses the knife deeper into her neck. A bead of crimson blood tracks down her throat.

“In Velmara, females serve one purpose—to produce strong heirs,” Mazus lectures calmly, as if we are old friends and he’s politely answering a question I’ve asked him. “Any deviation from that is met with punishment. As a member of a powerful noble family, Genevieve has already brought shame upon her family by being deemed unworthy of marriage.” Silas growls in agreement, and Genevieve drops her head to her chest in defeat. “When the Head Librarian reported your relationship to me…” Mazus and Silas both look at Genevieve in disgust. “I immediately informed Silas, who determined it was time to end the shame she has brought upon the Kalmeera family.”

“No!” I scream, but Mazus rips the air from my lungs. I clutch at my throat, trying to breathe before I pass out and leave Genevieve vulnerable and alone. He releases his hold on me, and I take in a deep gasping breath, then launch myself towards Silas and Genevieve. Mazus steps into my path, dagger pressed against my stomach.

“Now, now, General ,” he coos with mock sympathy. “You’re in Velmara, and we do things differently here. You wouldn’t want to start another war over a disgraced librarian.” I stiffen, then slowly back my body away, using the movement to cover the growing plant inching toward Mazus from the corner of the room. “Good,” he soothes. “Now, return the books I loaned to you, and I will personally aerstep you back to Thayaria. We can forget this whole thing ever happened.”

“Never,” I snarl, willing the trailing plant to curl up Mazus’s legs and pin him in place. He looks down at them, then breaks into a deep laugh.

“You stupid girl,” he sneers. “You really think this can hold me?” In a flash, the plants wither, as if they’re rotting from the inside out. “I tried to be nice, offered to send you back to Thayaria safe and sound. But now,” he shrugs, as if he’s not responsible for his actions. My lungs freeze again, and a dagger flies through the air toward me.

Genevieve screams through her gag. I try to duck out of the way of the blade, but my muscles have completely frozen. The dagger scrapes my shoulder, cutting deep but not delivering a fatal wound. It’ll heal in a few hours, but I don’t care, my focus is singular. Get to Genevieve . My vision swims with black spots from the lack of air, and I fall to my knees. Genevieve’s wails reach a fevered pitch.

I try to claw my way to her but only fall forward on my face. The familiar pressure of being aerstepped tingles across my back. My eyes lock on Genevieve’s, and she nods her head, answering my question. I try to yell at her, to tell her not to do this, but I’m still mute from Mazus’s magic.

“Silas, stop her,” Mazus hisses. In his fury, he must lose focus on the magic pinning me in place. I can breathe, and the air comes rushing back into my lungs. I grab my pack, intending to cling to her so she can’t do this, so we can both get away. But before I can reach Genevieve, or even say anything to her, I’m disappearing from the room.

Genevieve is an air channeler, a powerful one at that, and she’s aerstepping me away. She kept this secret from me, allowing me to believe she had very little magic. We never discussed our magic, I realize. The last thing I see before I wink away is Silas slicing her throat, blood pouring down her slender frame, eyes unseeing.