“Let us retreat to our tent, my future queen,” Conri says to me.
“I need some time with Aurora,” I say, glancing away to avoid looking into his eyes. The haze of the charm is worse when I do.
Conri doesn’t allow it, resting his fingertips on my chin and guiding my attention to be solely on him. I can almost feel the crackle of magic over my skin as the cape tries to protect me from his forced charm. Disgust can beat out obsession. It must. So I root myself in that emotion.
“What is it you need to do together? Be my good girl and tell me true.” He’s trying to worm out any kind of deceit or lie. I can’t tell if he is actually suspicious, or if this is just his nature.
You owe him nothing; he’s trying to manipulate you,I remind myself. “She is going to spend time with the part of her powers within me. It is important for her to have time to commune with them to keep up her own strength.”
“And I will help ensure Faelyn can leverage those powers to continue defending against the withering,” Aurora says. “Along with whatever else you desire of her.”
“Shouldn’t her magic as a witch be enough to protect against the withering?” Conri glances over at Aurora, but only for a second. I wonder if he knows that my resolve will be easier to break than the spirit’s. That assumption only makes me want to be even stronger. “I had thought the withering was not a concern since she already possesses magic within her?”
“We can never be too careful.” Aurora keeps her tone serious. “This world is not made for humans—the opposite, in fact. Save for the Human Queen, of course. I would like to keep a close eye on her to be safe.”
“Well, I can have nothing happen to my blushing bride.” Conri gives me a warm smile and squeezes my hip lightly.“Go on, then, I’ll see you later.” He glances around, his hand lingering on me. “Evander! Keep a close eye on them.”
The lykin knight approaches, abandoning helping the others set up camp for the night. “My liege.”
“You are responsible henceforth for my dear Faelyn. See to it that nothing happens to her or else the consequences will be yours to bear.”
“Yes, my king.” Evander bows his head, hair falling in front of his face. He looks subservient at a glance—and Conri is merely glancing. But I see the hard press of his mouth into a line. Almost like a grimace.
Aurora is right… He holds no love for Conri. But that doesn’t mean he’s a natural ally for us by default.
The longer I try to make sense of Evander, the harder he is to understand. There’s so much to him. Every turned stone reveals deeper secrets still. Never have I met someone so frustrating, but also so intriguing.
“This way. Your tent was set up first,” he says to Aurora.
“Don’t be too long.” Conri gives me one more squeeze and a wink before releasing my hip. “I’m not a man who likes to be kept waiting.” Even though the words are coy and playful, there is a note of warning underneath them that I can’t ignore.
I merely nod and follow Evander to Aurora’s tent, relieved to be free of Conri.
The lykin knight remains poised outside the tent. Arms folded. A statue of grumpiness and muscle. But an oddly comforting one, given the alternative.
“Evander.” I pause, tent flap in hand. His eyes swing in my direction. “You still had my things when we arrived at the first camp. Do you think you could get them and bring them to me?”
“I will look into it.” He nods and I disappear inside the tent.
As soon as Aurora and I are alone, the air seems lighter. The fading light somehow brighter, despite being filtered throughthe thick canvas. Her tent is as nice as Conri’s—a cot instead of just a bedroll, a small table and chair that look like they both can fold up to be carried on someone’s back.
“What is it that you need?” Aurora asks.
“My grandmother’s sewing supplies.” I dare to take off my cape.
“Ah, right, weaver witches,” she says with a slight smile. “The first instance of humans ever being able to harness magic was with a thread of it. A shame you were broken away from Midscape and all its magic so prematurely. Who’s to know what could’ve happened for humanity, otherwise.”
“So, all humans can have magic?” I ask.
She nods. “The dryads did not make the humans with the intention of being magic-less. They just were poor teachers and magic is variable. Every creature must come into their magic in their own way, making it hard for one to effectively teach another.”
“Dryads?”
“Yes, an early folk of the forests. Not quite fae, not quite primordial spirit. An early iteration of life made by Lady Safina’s hand, more or less in her image.”
“Lady Safina…” The name strikes a vague memory, a folklore I learned long ago. “Old Goddess of Life—the one you wish to go to?”
“Just so.” Aurora nods and sits on her cot. “The only one who could build a mortal body that could house a spirit,andsplit my magic so that I could occupy that body.”
