“No.” She shakes her head decisively. “If my people do not want me to show any favoritism for magic, I shouldn’t visit with Tycho either.”
I put a hand over hers again, but I feel woefully out of place here. “Should I fetch one of your advisers . . . ?or perhaps Verin—”
“Definitely not Nolla Verin.” She snorts, and for the first time, a bit of anger slips through the tears. “My sister ispleased,” she says. “She thinks I should tell Grey to take his army and march back to the other side of the border.”
My heart stumbles when she says that. “Are you going to?” I ask, my voice hushed.
“Of course not.” But there’s something to the way she says it that tells me she’s not quite sure. Her voice goes small again. “But I didn’t expect him to withdraw from me so completely. I know he loves me. I know he loves Sinna. But I . . . ?I worry that he might be preparing to leave on his own.”
If the king leaves, I wonder what that would do to the alliance between Emberfall and Syhl Shallow. He’s the king there, and she’s the queen here. But if they part ways, I have no idea what would happen. We were at war before they married. My motherdiedin that war. So did Alek’s.
Is the presence of magic so terrible that the citizens of Syhl Shallow are willing to go back towarto get rid of it?
Or . . . ?maybe a war has already begun, and I simply haven’t acknowledged it. I think of the terrible battle in Briarlock. Does the queen think that kind of attack will continue if the king is still here in Syhl Shallow?
Fears of magic have escalated to a point where whatIwant and whatmy peoplewant might differ.
Yes. She does.
But Emberfall won many victories by virtue of the magic that flows through the king’s veins. He might loveher, but if the people attack, what’s to stop him from using that magic against us all?
I stroke at the pendant under my tunic, wondering how much of this will turn into gossip as more and more people realize how long it’s been since the king and queen were seen together.
I look at the queen, thinking of that moment in Briarlock when Tycho declared that people who’d worn the specially charmed Iishellasan rings would have access to his same magic.
“Youhave magic,” I whisper to her.
She looks away. “No, I don’t, Callyn.”
But she does. I know she does. I watched her heal Nora in Briarlock, with a beautiful scraver lending magic to assist.
Unless . . . unlessI’mthe one who healed Nora. I’ve felt that same magic flow throughmyveins, and I know I didn’t imagine it.
I still haven’t admitted that to the queen, but it’s a secret we both carry. I speak carefully. “Perhaps if the people knew magic existed in their queen, you could—”
“They’d try to kill me again.” Her voice is full of iron when she says this. “They’d try even harder. They’d blame him for poisoning me with his abilities.” She pauses, and her eyes bore into mine. “I haveno magic, Callyn.”
That’s not a declaration. It’s a warning.
I think of the king healing my injuries every time Verin is too rough, or the way he showed me how to block a punch. I think of how gentle he is with little Sinna—the same gentleness I’m sure he shows toward the queen. It’s a completely different side to the man than I ever considered—and never would haveseen, if not for everything that happened in Briarlock. I can understand why so many people hate him, because I did, too. For so long! But I know now that a lot of our fear of magic is also wrapped up in prejudice against a country that killed so many of our people.
But I try to imagine how people would respond to thequeenif she demonstrated these same benefits. If she usedhergentle kindness when healing the people or protecting her daughter.
Is she right? Would they try to kill her?
Or would they see the benefits of magic instead of just the harms?
Her eyes are fierce, though. On this, it’s clear she won’t yield.
So I nod, matching her gaze with equal intensity. “Yes, Your Majesty. I must have been mistaken.”
A flicker of worry lights in her eyes. “You’ve said nothing to Alek about . . . about what might have happened?”
I shake my head quickly. “Nothing at all.”
“Do you still trust him?”
I think of the way he pressed his mouth to mine. The way he convinced me of his innocence so easily.
