She closed her eyes and held up her hands. Golden light shimmered between her palms, soft as sunrise. It drifted upward in small, glowing orbs, floating through the air like the lanterns that had enchanted me from the moment I’d met her.
The hedges reflected their light, the thorns turning molten gold.
The orbs bobbed gently, brushing the tops of the hedges, nudging at the invisible barrier where Quandary had struck. Each impact rippled through the air like a sigh.
I watched, forgetting to breathe. The memory of another night hit me. Six years ago at the midsummer festival, she’d conjured the same light to lead two lost children through the fairgrounds. I’d stood back, transfixed by her laughter while the glow caught in her hair. I’d thought her magic was beautiful then. I hadn’t realized how dangerous it was because it made mefeel.
One orb drifted closer. When I reached out, it brushed my fingers. Light flared, and suddenly, I was somewhere else.
The fairground. Music playing in the background. Her hand in mine. Laughter so loud it drowned out the world. Our first kiss, soft and hesitant and utterly right. The scent of baked apples and honey in the air. The rush of wanting something I couldn’t have.
The vision vanished, leaving me breathless.
Cyrene stared at me, wide-eyed. “Did you see the festival?”
“Yes.” My voice came out hoarse.
She swallowed hard. “That was?—”
“A shared memory.”
Her magicrememberedme. Intimately. Completely.
Before either of us could speak, another orb drifted to the right, colliding with a hedge. As it floated in another direction, an opening appeared where it had hit.
We stepped through and into a small garden I’d never seen before, one encased on all sides and even overhead with overgrown ivy and roses that had long since gone wild. The vines let in enough light to see but not enough I had to use the umbrella. Closing it, I lowered it to the ground and peered around.
A stone bench sat in the center of the garden, half-buried under moss. The air smelled of lilac and fall leaves, an odd but lovely combination.
I turned in a slow circle. “I’ve never been here before, and I thought I’d explored everything this maze had to offer.”
Cyrene ran a finger along a cluster of violet flowers sprouting from the cracks in the stone wall. “Maybe it wasn’t meant to be found until now.”
I brushed away leaves and sat on the bench. “It must’ve been part of the original maze design. A secret heart.”
Quandary flew down to the ground from Cyrene’s shoulder and began chasing insects in the grass, chirping each time he caught one.
Cyrene settled beside me on the bench, and we talked for a while about everything and nothing. The weather. The holiday bread she made each year. My ineptitude at diplomacy. She teased me about counting castle rooms.
Finally, silence settled between us, and I knew I had to speak of what I couldn’t shove out of my mind.
I stared at the pattern of sunlight filtering through the leaves. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
She looked up at me, wary. “That tone never means good news.”
“Our marriage isn’t only ceremonial. We’re under scrutiny. My advisors expect proof that our bond is genuine.”
Her brows arched. “What kind of proof?”
“They haven’t been clear about that,” I said.
“That’s not fair.”
I sighed. “It’s not.”
“They don’t…expect me to get pregnant, do they?”
The thought of her carrying my child shot through me. I’d do anything to see that happen. “No. Not everyone is able to conceive.”
