Even after a handful of months, it’s a heavy mantle to carry, and I still struggle with the memories of how close I came to giving in to the darker siren song of my magic. Like any power, it’s shaped by the mind and hand of the wielder. Lost in grief and rage after Laleh’s death and Roshan’s betrayal, I’d almost descended into darkness myself.
With the amount of starlit magic I had in my veins, things could have gone very badly for everyone in Endara. Our entire world might have been destroyed. The risk is always there if I don’t continue my lessons with Aran—Roshan’s cousin and a practitioner of formerly outlawed arcane magic—to strengthen my skills.
Roshan has tasked him with training magic users from all the houses, instead of keeping all magic and jadu use under the control of the crown as his father had. Jadu is a finite resource in our realm, but it’s like oxygen. It belongs to the people. Of course, there are regulations and laws in place around its use—never to harm—but we’re making progress.
Sometimes, and especially here, in the familiar heat of my beloved desert, I wish I could go back to the old me and my old life, when all I cared about was not getting caught for forging illegal jadu blades. But Zora, the goddess of time, waits for no man. She keeps marching forward, no matter our secret wishes.
In recent months, I’ve become familiar with our pantheon of gods, not just Saru and Fero—the gods of creation and death—but others like Huma, the god of harvest and rain; the mischievous twin gods of wind, Vara and Vati; and Ris, the stern god of the afterlife. Goddesses like Zora as well as Anahima, the goddess of wisdom, fertility, and war, fascinate me. Erased over generations by the ruler of the Oryndhrian Imperial House who wanted to be worshipped as a god-king, it was no wonder they had forsaken us.
A deafening round of cheering jolts me out of my musings.
“His Majesty is charismatic up there,” Clem says from where she’s standing close to my side like an ever-present shadow. She is usually the one assigned to guard me, even though I’ve insisted time and time again that I don’t need it. She’s better off protecting the king.
I nod. “He was born to rule. Oryndhr is in good hands.”
She glances at me. “And if he needs you, will you fight at his side?”
“The war is over, Clem,” I say with a frown at her tone.
She doesn’t answer for a minute, but her mouth flattens as her eyes continuously survey the room. “That doesn’t mean our enemies are gone. We need to be vigilant, especially in Eloni and Veniar, and even with the Scavs.”
“The Scavs?” I ask. “Their general is dead. They have no leader.”
“For now. They have been confined to the northern Dustlands for the time being, but they won’t be held forever. We can’t underestimate them again.” She pauses. “As compelling as the king is, he’ll have to keep his crown with force, if necessary. There are many who would see him off the throne permanently, especially in the House of Regulus. A leaderless army addicted to Jade could be a boon to an ambitious enemy.”
I shiver at the mention of the hallucinogenic drug that had almost felled me.Twice.I knew the houses were discontent, questioning the succession of the newly coronated king and hunting for creative ways to unseat him. But at her words, awareness skitters over my tight shoulders. “Regicide?” I ask.
Her face is grim. “Assassins are the greatest threat.”
***
MUCH LATER ONand safe, thankfully, after too many hours of food, fanfare, and celebration, Roshan and I are finally alone. I’ve convinced him to spend the night in Coban instead of returning to Kaldari, and while the rooms above the tavern have to accommodate us and his personal guard, my father and Amma don’t mind. My aunt loves having extra mouths to feed.
“So this is the workshop I’ve heard so much about,” Roshan says, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist as I stare at the cold forge.
“Where all the magic happened,” I say, and turn to face him. I take in Hamid and two other guards who are standing near the door, as well as the shadows of others outside the window. I wish we could be alone, but Roshan’s title comes with... an armed entourage.
“Magic?” Roshan asks, bending to nuzzle my temple. “Tell me more.”
“I am a master bladesmith, you know,” I say, my body heating at the gentle touch. “People paid good money for me to forge their swords with jadu.” I wrinkle my nose. “Remember my old boss Vasha? He said I had a way with the crystals.” I lift a hand between us and wiggle my fingers. “I suppose my magic manifested in its own way even then.”
Roshan presses his lips to my fingertips, unexpectedly taking two of them into the wet heat of his mouth. My breath hitches, every inch of me intently focused on that scorching point of contact. I’m mesmerized by the movement of his lips and tongue, shivering when his teeth graze lightly over my skin. Heat gathers in my blood as I raise my gaze to find his eyes smoldering with desire. With a tiny moan, I sink my teeth into my bottom lip, and his stare darkens.
He releases my glistening fingers with a soft pop and glances over his shoulder. “Hamid, wait outside,” he says huskily, walking us backward until the backs of my legs hit my old workbench. The sound of the door closing is the only sign that we are alone.Finally.
“You were amazing today with the people. They needed to hear you say that they were going to be safe,” I tell him, gasping as his palms slip under my thighs and he lifts me to sit on the bench. He slides his trim hips, still wrapped in his ornate ceremonial tunic and pants, into the space between my knees, making my pulse ratchet. “You were very kingly,” I add breathlessly, when he tucks my legs around him and pulls me flush against his torso.
At this angle, we both suck in a gasp at the snug, perfect fit of our bodies. Roshan rests his forehead against mine, taking his sweet time as he slides his hands down my shoulders and gathers my wrists in his grip at my back. He runs his nose up the column of my throat. “I like you like this, my starling,” he says. “At my mercy.”
Grinning, I lock my ankles, and he lets out a groan. “And you’re at mine, my king.”
He crashes his mouth down, the kiss a near-violent tangle of lips, tongues, and teeth, rife with hunger and dominance. It’s wet, hungry, and wild, but sous, and I meet him stroke for stroke, desperate to satiate the desire burning in my blood. He releases my wrists to cup my face, gentling the kiss as his molten eyes burn into mine. “Gods, you’re beautiful.”
“Ro, I’m aching,” I whimper, and wind my fingers into the wrinkled silk of his tunic. The runes on my arms begin to glow with silvery radiance as the magic fires in my veins. “I need you now. Please.”
He smirks. “When you beg so prettily, how can I say no?”
Our hands fumble gracelessly at the ties and buttons of our clothing. We’re so lost in disrobing each other that we don’t hear the door slamming open until an urgent voice pierces through the thick haze of desire. “Your Majesty.”
