I might be hardened, all steel and sass, but I’d had my heart broken once, and Jax was a much lesser man than Henri. I couldn’t do that again.
If I fell all the way for Henri, I wouldn’t survive a separation.
“Goodnight, Hatter,” I said, committing to memory the sensation of his warm skin pressed against mine.
The brief, sweet moment that would have to last me for the rest of my life.
Chapter 20
Sunlight streamed into my room as I emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around my long, teal hair, prepared to seize the day. Not even Henri was up yet. The old house remained quiet and still, exactly what I needed.
I’d always done my best work alone, in silence. And before we left to take on the queen’s herd, I needed to practice with my aether magic.
Perching on my bed, I began flipping through the pages ofProperties of the Aether. All types of aether manipulation, from conjuring objects to putting magical creatures in a fae’s thrall—even creating a glamour—had to do with visualization and willpower. However, in the book, the various uses were detailed individually. It made me wonder if not all aether-blessed had the ability to perform every single aspect of aether magic.
I’d never asked the aether-blessed fae who Xavier had periodically hired to glamour my ears so I appeared human if there were limits to her power. And although many of my memories had returned, I still couldn’t recall my parents using aether. Since they were royals, I knew that they must have been able to, so the lack of recollection was annoying. Perhaps they hadn’t done it often. Or maybe their use of the aether had seemed mundane to me. Like the everyday stuff that people forget over time.
In the end, it didn’t really matter. Whatever the limitations of others, I planned on working my way through every chapter of this book, mastering each lesson as best I could to increase my chances of defeating the Red Queen.
Starting with the magical discipline of conjuring.
I skimmed the pages for the fifth time, committing them to memory. Once I finished, I scanned my room. The book suggested starting with an object that I could see and touch—preferably hold—and then duplicating it. On the vanity next to my bed, the earrings Henri lent me the day before glinted in the early morning sunlight.
I picked them up, cupping the elegant studs in my hand and examining them closely. They were fairly small, about the size of a pencil eraser. In their center, a bright aquamarine stone glittered, surrounded by a wreath of golden roses.
Teal and gold.
I glanced around the room, taking in the familiar color scheme, a combination that I now knew was of my mother’s royal house.
My heart squeezed. Henri’s mother had once worn these earrings to my parents’ wedding.
Besides my terrible aunt, Henri was the one person, in all of Faerie and the human world, who had known me the longest. There was a familiarity there—a weight that was obvious whenever Hatter did certain things, like make sure I wore my house colors to my birthday party. Our families were so intertwined, like our pasts, that sometimes, it overwhelmed me.
I sighed, wishing that things were simpler. That I wanted to be a princess. Why was it so hard to commit to something I’d been born into?
My gaze shot up as a sound came from the room next door. Low singing. Henri was up too.
I needed to begin my practice.
Allowing my fingers to run over the textured gold roses and the smooth stone, I committed the feel of the earrings to memory before closing them in my fist. Then I called on my aether magic.
The surrounding air warmed a few degrees, a subtle sign that aether was at work. Keeping the vision of the earrings in my mind’s eye, I stared down at my open palm, and imagined a replica appearing there.
The change rolled out slowly—a glint of gold, a faint weight falling into my hand, the cold of metal settling against my skin—but it picked up steam the harder I pushed.
To my surprise, less than a minute later, the earrings simply winked into existence in my hand.
My lips quirked up as I studied them. Even without opening my other fist to examine the real pair, I could spot differences. The shade of aquamarine was off, too dark, and the earrings were smaller.
But still, the replicas were close. Damn close. And it hadn’t been as difficult to work with the aether as it had the day before.
My hope spun up. And for the first time in years, I allowed that feeling to simmer before I tossed the imitation earrings on the vanity, and tried again.
Many hours and more successes than failures with the aether later, it was time for our mission. My fingers trembled as I pulled on an elegant, dark navy cloak embroidered on the edges. As I did so, I was careful to fit my wings through the holes without bending them, a new practice for me.
Now that we no longer had to worry about my hair giving me away, Henri had gifted me a less restrictive cloak. Probably another of his mother’s garments.
I stretched my wings out, grateful that I could walk around the city with them free. They gave me another means of escape, should I need one. In that way, they acted like a security blanket, almost as comforting as the dagger on my hip and the magical mushroom bits in my pockets.
