Lord Broadworthy shuffled his papers. “As you know, Your Majesty, the terms the elders agreed upon require proof of unity between yourself and the witch queen within the lunar cycle.” From the way he stated and the expression in his eyes, I got the impression he felt it was a mere formality.
Not so for the others.
“I’m aware of the terms.” My voice cooled.
Lord Rathley inclined his head. “We merely wish to remind you that the clock is ticking. Without concrete evidence of a true union, the elders may be forced to appeal for dissolution.”
“And yesterday’s display was not evidence enough?” I asked.
Lady Aragorn sniffed. “A kiss can be manufactured.”
“As can many things,” I replied. “Including loyalty.”
She paled but pressed on. “There are concerns, sire, that the witch’s magic may be influencing you. We’re not alone in this.”
The temperature in the room dropped several degrees. Shadows lengthened across the table, reaching toward her with grasping fingers.
“Explain yourself, Lady Aragorn.”
She swallowed. “Joy magic is known to affect emotions. To create feelings where none exist. We must consider the possibility that her magic manipulates your perceptions.”
For a moment, I considered having her join my aunt in exile. But banishing everyone who questioned me would only feed the rumors.
“My perceptions are perfectly clear. And my control remains absolute.”
“Of course, Your Majesty,” Lord Rathley said, his spine stiff. “No one doubts your strength of will. We merely raise the concern out of duty to the crown. The elders have given us the final say in this matter.”
“Alright.” I sat back, letting the shadows recede. “Your concerns are noted. And dismissed.”
They exchanged glances, but none dared argue further. They worried her joy would make me weak. Instead, it made me want things some might say a vampire king like me didn’t deserve.
“Now, can we discuss actual matters of state? Or would you prefer to speculate further about my marriage?”
The meeting proceeded in a normal way after that, discussions of border patrols and harvest preparationsfilling the next hour. But beneath every word ran an undercurrent of tension. They believed Cyrene was trying to control me, that her joy magic could compromise my self-discipline.
How ironic. If they only knew how hard I’d fought against the pull she exerted. How even now, with politics and power at stake, I found myself thinking of her smile, her defiance, the way she’d felt in my arms.
What I hadn’t said was how much I’d enjoyed our kiss. How for that short time, the weight of the crown had lifted. How the taste of her magic had awakened something I’d thought buried forever.
I ended the meeting. As they filed out, I stayed seated, staring at the empty chairs.
I rose, determined to go to my study to work through the afternoon.
Instead, I found myself walking toward the tower room, drawn by the memory of golden light and the promise of seeing one particular witch’s magic at work.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CYRENE
I’d never seen so many magical ingredients in one place before. Not even in the Elder’s workshop back home, and she’d been collecting for years.
“Look at this,” I whispered, running my fingers along a shelf stocked with jars of preserved mandrake root, moonflower nectar, and what appeared to be dragon’s breath captured in crystal vials. “This can’t be real.”
But it was. All of it. The tower room Kieran had given me stretched three stories high, with a spiral staircase winding to upper levels filled with more bookshelves than I could count. Morning sunlight poured through tall windows, making everything shine.
Quandary swooped down from his perch, landing on my shoulder with a happy chirp.I told you he likes you.
“He likes having a witch in his castle.” I couldn’t deny my heart. Not after Kieran had personally delivered breakfast, complete with a single daisy that now sat in its vase near the eastern window.
