“I can’t even control my magic sober,” she whispered. “If I drink—”
“Why not?”
“Did you not hear what I just said?” She clenched her hands under the table to hide the faint glow. Shame prickled down her spine.
The cracked window. Her uneven hair. Her entire existence.
She was the runaway Princess of Valedara. And he had smiled at Luna like… She bit her tongue.
Without touching her, without even looking at her hands, Nythir shifted. His magic brushed against hers like a steadying breath. The glow dulled, then softened, responding to him in a way it had never done before, either to discipline or command. Esther swallowed, shaken by how easily her power listened.
“I heard you,” Nythir said softly. “I just don’t see the problem.”
“My magic—”
“Is fine,” he said gently. “I’ll take care of you and your magic. Just like at the campfire.”
Her breath hitched.
“But you told me to hide my sparks,” she whispered.
“What—oh.” His expression shifted as understanding dawned. “Essie… you misunderstood.”
Her heart stopped. “I don’t understand.”
He reached across the table and took her hand—warm, steady, unafraid of the glow beneath her skin.
“Your sparks,” he murmured, “are identifiable. Beautiful. Alluring. They shine too bright. I wasn’t telling you to hidebecause I don’t like them.” His thumb brushed her knuckles. “I like them too much.”
Her breath left her in a trembling rush.
“You’re running from something,” he continued quietly. “A girl in silk dresses doesn’t just teleport into a dangerous forest. I don’t need the details yet. But until you’re ready…” His gaze softened. “You’re ours now. And we can help.”
Her throat tightened as something warm and terrifying bloomed in her chest.
No one had ever said that to her without strings attached. Not tutors. Not nobles. Not even well-meaning allies. The words did not cage her. They made space. Esther realized with quiet terror that this was what safety felt like, and that made it far more dangerous than fear.
“Is this the lil’ mage Lyssara told me about?” Luna appeared with a drink, glowing pink and purple. The sweet scent wafted up instantly. “Essie, right? Or should I call you Cinabun?”
“Cinabun?” Esther squeaked. “Uh… sure?”
“You’re adorable. Waste of a good evening to sit in a dark corner with grumpy here.” Luna plopped down beside Esther, looping her arm through hers. She was soft, warm, and very close.
This felt familiar, Esther realized.
Like a rival love interest trying to stake a claim on the male lead. She really wished she had her guidebooks to navigate this situation.
“I mind,” Nythir grumbled.
“Oh? Why?” Luna purred, pressing closer.
“Because you’re interrupting.”
“You’re in my tavern.”
Esther looked between the two, confused by the tension. It was completely different from their earlier flirting. Before, they hadlooked like a perfect painting hung on palace walls. Now, they resembled two dogs about to fight over the last bone.
Luna leaned in. “Lyssara said Cinabun here wasn’t spoken for. Or is she?”
