“You are not,” Sir says flatly, his tail flicking with irritation.
“I am trying,” I snap, frustration bleeding into my voice despite my best efforts.
Lucien leans forward slightly, his movement fluid and concerned. “What were you thinking about?”
“Everything,” I admit. There’s no point in lying when he can probably read my emotional state like a book anyway.
“That is not particularly helpful for meditation,” he replies, those perfect arched eyebrows lifting in gentle concern. Gods, this man is a distraction all on his own, sitting there like some kind of Fae prince who wandered out of a fairy tale and decided to take up residence in my increasingly complicated life.
“It is the only honest answer I have,” I say with a huff of frustration.
Silence settles between us while the breeze rustles through the trees.
“It has been two weeks,” I say finally, my voice smaller than I want it to be. “Two weeks of books and breathing and plants and spells and meditation and absolutely nothing has happened.”
Lucien listens without interrupting, his expression patient and attentive, like every word I say matters to him.
“I know what you are going to say,” I continue, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I know it has been thirty-five years. I know the binding is complex and deeply rooted. I know it will not break overnight like some magical switch being flipped.”
“Correct,” Sir says with something that might be approval.
“I know all of you can sense it,” I add, my voice tightening with frustration and something that feels dangerously close to desperation. “You keep telling me it is there, that my magic ispractically spilling out of me, that you can feel it humming under my skin.”
I laugh softly, though it carries no humor, just the bitter edge of irony.
“Do you know what it feels like to be told you have something and still not be able to touch it? It feels like being starving in front of a table full of food you are not allowed to eat. It feels like watching everyone else speak a language you should know fluently but can only catch fragments of. It feels like being handed the keys to a car and then realizing you’ve forgotten how to drive.”
Lucien studies me quietly, nodding in understanding.
“We should stop for today,” he says gently.
“No.” The word comes out sharper than I intended, carrying all the frustration I’ve been trying to swallow for two weeks.
“Keisha.” He says my name with a plea behind it, like he can see the edge I’m dancing on and doesn’t want to watch me fall.
“I do not want to stop,” I insist, my voice rising slightly. “I want to do something that works. I want to feel something other than this constant sense of failure. I want to stop being the broken Thorne who can’t access her own birthright.”
“You do not win by forcing it,” Sir says, his mental voice carrying a note of something that might be wisdom.
“Then how do I win?” I ask, turning my head to look in Sir’s direction, meeting those eyes that seem to hold secrets I haven’t earned the right to know yet.
Sir blinks slowly, considering, his tail twitching with what I’ve learned to recognize as his thinking pose.
“You persist,” he says with maybe a hint of pride ringing through it, like this is the first intelligent question I’ve asked in days.
Lucien exhales softly as if he can see the shape of that answer in my expression, as if Sir’s response has illuminated somethinghe was waiting for me to understand. “Whatever Sir just told you, I suspect he is correct.”
I drag in a slow breath, trying to let the simple truth of it settle into the spaces where frustration has been living rent-free.
“What if we do not have time?” I ask quietly, voicing the fear that wakes me up at three in the morning. “What if the wards slip again? What if something happens to the town while I’m sitting here trying to meditate my way into my own power?”
Sir’s tail flicks sharply, a gesture I’ve learned means he has opinions about whatever I just said.
Before either of them can respond, footsteps approach the courtyard, familiar, confident steps that my body recognizes before my brain catches up.
Maceo’s voice carries through the open gate, warm and amused and exactly what I need to hear.
“There you are.”
