Or did they? I'd known some of them from the first time I snuck onto the ship and boldly asked the captain to take me for a sail. Eight at the time, I’d thought my life would never change, that I'd grow up taking to the seas or working with dragons. I’d never dreamed I'd be crowned only a few short years after that. But these men knew me. I didn't wield my magic as a sword unless needed. I only slashed it out when I couldn’t avoid dispensing justice in any other way.
The marketplace sprawled ahead of us, a huge open area I used to love running through when I was small. My mother would bring me here after dark when she needed a break from castle life. She hadn’t been born to be a queen; my father had chosen someone from among our people, though the daughter of a high lord and lady, of course.
As I grew older, she’d changed, though I could never determinewhy. Perhaps because of my father. While I sensed she’d respected him, I'd never seen adoration on her face when she looked his way. I held my suspicion for who she might’ve cared for instead, and it burned that she'd gotten that close. One gained while another lost, I supposed.
“We'll go around the marketplace,” I told Reyla, taking her hand. “But I'll bring you here one day if you'd like.”
She nodded, gazing around with sweet wonder on her face.
I linked our fingers, wanting to be connected with her at all times. I resisted my aching need to stroke her hair and kiss her here, where everyone could see. I wanted to do so much more with her, though I wouldn't push it. I'd give her the time my father may not have offered my mother, though she'd never alluded to anything like that. But she’d met him on their wedding day, and I believed they were together from the start.
Why hadn't he taken it slower, coaxed what he needed from her? He was dead, and I'd never know now.
My own course was set, and in this, I'd veer onto a different path than him.
Merchants called out from ahead, hawking their wares, their voices shrill and bright and endlessly appealing. Colorful fruits overflowed baskets and bundled spices hung from strings spanning above the tables, their pungent scents sharp in my nose.
In one stall, a vendor skillfully twisted strands of fresh honeyed pastry into all sorts of fancy shapes, and the warm, sweet scent drifted toward us. A woman striding down a street to my right balanced a basket on her head as she wove her way to the market center.
Reyla took it all in, her wide eyes sparkling with excitement. “It feels magical here,” she breathed, and the sincerity in her voice tugged at something deep inside me.
“Like you.” I leaned closer, the warmth of her body brushing against mine. I was acutely aware of the way her breathing hitched and the way our shared space made the air pulse between us.
“You do know I'm not very good with magic,” she said softly.
“I've spoken with Lorant, and he's agreed to work with you. I believe you have a lot of power to command, and I want you to learn how to use it.” She might very well need it.
“You want me to work withLore?” She yanked her gaze from mine.
“You call him that?” My smile curled up. How ironic.
Her cheeks pinkened. “It seems to fit. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Not at all.” It was all I could do not to laugh.
But I wanted her to like him. He was my bodyguard and friend. But still, my belly tightened as a burning knot seared through my guts. I had no right, no need for this jealous feeling, but there it was, making blood pound in my temples and my jaw clench hard enough to hurt.
“Is there anyone else who could work with me instead?” She leaned into my side and gazed up at me with an expression I'd take for complete adoration if a sharpness didn't linger in her eyes.
Was my pretty little bride trying to use her wiles to manipulate me?
“It should be Lorant,” I said. “His power is nearly unrivaled.”
“Is his stronger than yours?”
“We're equal,” I barked, softening my tone when someone on the street gaped at us before pivoting and scurrying in the opposite direction. “He's no stronger than me.”
“I'm glad to hear that. I suppose I don't mind that he teaches me.” She traced her finger along the swirling pattern etched into the fabric of her gown lying across her lap. “But if you're equally powerful,youshould train me.”
“If only I had the time.” Her words and lulling tone stopped my jealousy from gnawing all the way through my spine.
“You'll be busy,” she said with a twist of her lips, pulling away to lean on the side of the carriage opposite me. “I understand. Lord Lorant will do as well as anyone else, I suppose.”
No more nickname for my bodyguard?
As the beast carried us through the heart of Evergorne, the steady pulse of my connection to Reyla grew. Shewasa wildfire, a force I was falling for much too quickly—or not quickly enough. Had it been like this for my father? I felt bad for him if he'd loved my mother and hoped she'd feel the same, only to leave her to raise me alone.
“Are you ready to experience life as a queen?” I asked, studying Reyla’s profile. I saw a beautiful woman. A strong one. Strong enough for what was coming?
