“We needed some privacy,” she said. Her voice came out strangely flat, as though the sound had to push through velvet to reach me.
I nodded once.
She leaned back in her chair, gaze narrowing slightly. “Your magic,” she said slowly, “it’s empathy-based, correct?”
“Yes…” I reached toward the apples, testing to see what she’d do. She didn’t even flinch. So I took one.
Her eyes didn’t leave mine. “Then tell me what you’ve learned.”
“You’re hiding it well. But you’re like me.”
“I’m nothing like you.” Her voice cracked like a whip cutting through the artificial hush created by the ward.
I tilted my head deliberately, taking a slow bite of the apple. The crunch echoed strangely in the spell-silenced air. “If they knew,” I said softly, avoiding eye contact so she wouldn’t think it a threat, “what would they do?”
She hissed, “Don’t pretend this gives you power over me,lady.”
I gave into the urge to roll my eyes and took another bite. “Everyone who matters knows I’m a peasant from Caervorn. You clearly know everything about me. So drop the sneering unless you really are the stereotype of a pretentious princess.”
My hunger, my pain, my fear had come together to loosen my tongue. I feared for a long second that I’d pushed her too far.
But then a sharper smile crept across her face. “So you have fire too.”
“I bet you already knew that as well,” I said flatly, chewing.
She shrugged.
“They’d burn me,” Anwen finally answered, voice falsely light but laced with bitterness. “Or marry me off. Rid the world of my taint or put me under a man’s thumb—whichever is more advantageous to them.”
That wasn’t the answer I’d expected, but it rang with honesty even without my magic doing its work. “And your cousin?”
Her jaw worked, muscles tensing. “Maelric would inherit everything. Then burn every magic user he could get his hands on.”
The only thing that broke the silence that fell between us was the pulsing of her magic ring.
“Why tell me all this?” I asked.
“I didn’t,” she said. “You guessed. But you also said you wanted to help me.” Anwen leaned forward, elbows on the table, voice as hard as cold iron. “But if you breathe a word of this to anyone—ally or enemy—I will kill you myself.”
I didn’t flinch. But I also didn’t promise. “Understood.”
She studied me for a long moment. Then said, “The Assembly is helping Maelric. For the life of me, I don’t know why. But I have proof.”
My breath stopped cold in my throat. The Assembly was helping the faction that hated magic? It made no sense. Not unless…
The raids on border settlements. It has always been a question if they were official or done by civilian groups. The same was happening to Larethia. Both mage-led kingdoms.
If the Assembly wanted to crush an anti-magic kingdom while appearing apolitical, what better way than to split it open from within? Weaken the leadership through infighting. Unite their enemies against them by creating friction. And then sweep in to further their own aims.
This changed everything.
“The Assembly wants to weaken Gelida,” I murmured, “to tighten their hold on the island. But they don’t know about you…do they?”
“I suspected the same thing,” Anwen said, expression unreadable once again. “And, no. No one does.”
I studied her more closely then, seeing her not just as my captor, but as a cornered fox who’d used her cunning and charm to escape the hunter’s blade. “I asked what I could do to help you because Darreth doesn’t want war. If you’re on the throne, I think we can prevent it.”
This wasit. This was how I’d give the Assembly the exact opposite of their wishes. A surge of excitement coursed through me, making my heart pound. That,orthe magic Anwen had warned me about was finally wearing off.
