She wondered if Lucy had crawled into her bed again, unbecoming of a maid, but they never acted like master and servant when no extra eyes were around.
“You’re so warm. I love it,” Esther murmured, wrapping her arms around her friend.
“Finally awake, Princess?”
That was not Lucy’s voice. It was deep and smooth, like silk.
She bolted upright, her head colliding with something firm.
“Ow!” She clutched the back of her head.
“Holy, you broke my nose,” the elf, Nythir, grumbled, holding his bloodied face.
It was then she realized she was on top of the overly attractive elf.
Again.
She couldn’t believe it. She, esteemed princess of Valedara, had straddled a man who was not her husband.
Twice.
She squeaked and skittered backward. The fire snapped in alarm beside her. Sparks leapt upward, too high, too bright.
Her magic flinched awake.
Pebbles near her feet rattled. A tiny flame on the log twisted upward, growing taller, as if trying to console her.
“Oh no,” she whispered. “Not again, stop, stop!”
The world blurred.
Burnt meat.
Ash on the wind.
A scream. Her’s. Theirs’. She couldn’t tell.
And then came the worst truth of all:
“I’m a murderer,” she choked out. “I killed them. I killed them, and it wasn’t even on purpose.”
In the palace, danger had always been hypothetical, something spoken of in council rooms or tediously annotated in her tutors’ scrolls. Heroes in her novels defeated enemies with elegant swordplay or morally convenient unconsciousness. They didn’t… explode people.
In the garden, she used to imagine adventures, freedom, daring rescues. Notthis. Not scorched earth, severed limbs, and the metallic taste of power she never wanted. She felt the bile rise in her throat.
Her mother had been graceful with magic, gentle even at her fiercest. Esther had inherited none of that control, only the raw, wild force of a golden flame that answered her fear with violence.
She wrapped her arms around herself.
What if this was all she was?
A disaster in royal silk, now without even the silk.
A memory flashed: Lucy tugging her into a closet to gossip, Lucy stealing pastries for her, Lucy promising she’d never let Esther be alone.
Lucy would never forgive her for this.
She bit her lip until it hurt.
