Today, though, I’m still replaying Jax’s comments before I left Briarlock. He carries himself like a beaten dog, but there was so much anger in his expression when he shoved me away.
All you’ve done is remind us of what we’ve suffered. Of what we lack.
But more than that, I’m thinking of the moment just before, when his eyes blazed into mine with a wild desperation. He was in pain. Afraid. Ashamed.
Steady, I said.I won’t hurt you.
And then … in his eyes, I suppose I did.
I forget sometimes that my experience with magic is vastly different from everyone else’s. What I know came directly from Grey himself. I was never tortured by magic, never affected by the monster Rhen was once cursed to become.
The monsters who tortured me have all been of the human variety.
I forget, too, that the people of Syhl Shallow see the Uprising as less of an attack on the royal family, and more of an incident that proves the danger of the king’s magic. They weren’t in the palace to hear the screams. They didn’t see the splintering wood as protestors broke through doors and invaded private quarters, searching for the king and queen with weapons drawn.
They only heard about the flash of magic that lit up the sky for miles. The flames that swept through the palace hallways.
The women and men who died for trying to attack a king who never would have meant them any harm.
I think of the queen refusing Grey’s magic to help with her sickness from the baby. She’s never shied away from his powers. I wonder if even she is affected by the fears of her people.
Callyn was so afraid of the magic that she shoved her sister behind her in the bakery. I’ve worn these rings for years now, but I remember the first time I found the sparks and stars in my blood that allowed me to wield magic. It was wild and wondrous—but not frightening.
I healed her friend, but she still found it terrifying.
I hate that.
I glance at Prince Rhen where he’s scrawling notes on a piece of parchment. He only has one eye, because the other was clawed out during a battle with an enchantress. He wears a small leather patch over the worst of his scars, but he’s allowed his hair to grow long to cover that half of his face. At the right angle, you can’t even tell.
I have as much reason to hate him as anyone, but I don’t.
What I said to Noah was true: Rhen has suffered a lot.
We’re the only people in the room right now, aside from two guards stationed outside the door. Maybe that’s part of why the rooms here feel so quiet and stuffy. At the Crystal Palace, there’s always someone around, ready to play a game of dice or share a meal or go for a ride. There’s always little Sinna looking for entertainment. But here, beyond Harper, Rhen doesn’t have a close circle of friends.
Lia Mara said I should tell Rhen that she hopes to see him compete in the Challenge, but I haven’t passed on that part of the message. I know he used to spar with Grey, but I haven’t seen him engage in swordplay since he lost his eye. I wonder if he misses it. He buries himself in work whenever there’s an opportunity, like now, so I think he might.
Honestly, I’m not sure Rhen would notice if I left.
“If you need a task,” Rhen says without looking up, “I am happy to provide more of a diversion thanstaring.”
Or maybe he would.
“I’ll take a task,” I say.
He smiles, but it’s more ironic than it is amused. “You’re one of the few people who would hear that as an offer and not a rebuke.”
I shrug, unfazed, and reach for an apple from the platter of fruit in the center of the table. “What do you need?”
“Truly, I need nothing.” He finally looks up, and his one eye narrows. “You’re not one to sit idle. What troubles you?”
“Nothing.” I take a bite from the apple.
He looks back at his maps, then makes a mark. I keep eating the fruit. I expect him to dig, the way Lia Mara or Noah would. Even Grey would pry answers out of me. But Rhen doesn’t. There’s no expectant weight to this silence.
Maybe that’s why I talk. “Last week, when I returned to Syhl Shallow, Mercy threw a shoe, so I stopped off in a little town to find a blacksmith. I did—but I also found Lord Alek, from one of the Royal Houses.”
Rhen glances up. “I remember Alek. His older sister was my spy. She found the first magical artifacts in Syhl Shallow.”
