She has not forgotten what happened in the garden. Not for an instant.
I choose my words carefully, though my certainty is unwavering.
“Vale, I think we need to tell them.” I look at him first, then to our companions.
“Are you sure?”
He has trusted them for an eternity—and still, I know this decision rests with me.
“Yes,” I say quietly. “It’s time. And we need all the help we can get.”
Chapter Forty-Two
“This isn’t the time for jokes, Ace!” Vale scolds more sharply than I’ve ever heard.
“What? I’m just checking.” Ace’s tone sounds deflated, but not defeated.
“Checking what?” To say Vale’s patience is running thin would be an understatement.
“To see if magic is really back.” Ace returns to the goblet of wine in his hand, twisting his fingers maniacally around the chalice. “I used to be able to lift it straight from the glass and into my lips. Hell of a party trick, and it took years to master. It’s the only thing I can remember after all this time to see if it’s true.”
“I never said magic was back.” The low grumble is chastising and intolerant. Patting at his sides, he reframes his address of our failed magician. “I said something has changed. Mira has changed. And it seems”—he shoots daggers in Ace’s direction—“that something magical has stirred.”
“Something has stirred. Flowers bloom beyond reason. A damn tree branch bowed to save our queen. What part of that is anything other than magic returning?” Ace stands proud in his logic, unwilling to backdown from his commander and king, having no qualms about stepping toe-to-toe with the cousin he once terrorized these very halls with.
We’d moved to the parlor to have this discussion. I didn’t want to enter into it in the same space where I learned a man died because of me—or rather, because of his actions against me. I feel a chill every time I think of it.
It didn’t take long, after Soria shared what she saw and Vale explained things as clearly and concisely as he could, before Ace was reaching for the bottle of wine.
Ever the voice of reason, Soria chooses now to speak. “Have there been any other signs?”
I move closer to Vale, threading my arm low across his back and leaning into his side. On instinct, he draws a protective arm across my shoulders, his gentle grip on my arm anchoring me in his strength.
He looks to me for approval, and I nod. I don’t have the strength to say it myself.
“It would seem that Mira has been blessed with the gift. Our gift.” He looks at me lovingly, the treasure in his arms. “She heals like us. More so, it would seem. The attack at the wedding?—”
“I knew it!” Ace jumps from the seat he only just claimed after his wine-wielding antics. “I may have said it was a trick of the light—and let’s be honest, those jewels absolutely could have stopped something—but I knew what I saw.” He sinks back down, suddenly dumbfounded by the realization that finally catches up to him. “Wait. If he really did strike you, then…” He turns pale and, for the first time since I’ve known him, is stunned silent. A man who once laughed at everything now looks as though the world has tilted beneath him.
“Even we don’t come back from the dead,” Soria chimes in. “If he struck your heart, then…” She lingers in the thought, working it through. “There wasn’t even any blood.” She remains puzzled.
“There was light though, wasn’t there?” I say meekly. “I remember such intense light, but I… Well, I couldn’t see myself, obviously. But you all said—everyone did—that the gown reflected the sun in such blinding brightness.” I feel my question hanging between us, even though I don’t quite know what I’m asking. They all nod. A collective understanding that, if nothing else,somethingoccurred that day that defiesexplanation.
Vale tells them about the cuts, both accidental and intended. I look at my hands—not because that is where a scar ought to linger, but because I can’t bear feeling this exposed.
I’ve confided in each of them before, shown them such vulnerability, but this… this is too much.
I step away from Vale. I need him more than ever, but the only way out is through. I take command in the only way I know how.
“We have to understand. Even if we don’t know what happened or why, we need to figure out if this power is in me or around me—and what it might be capable of. You both barely remember magic,” I say to the men in the room, “and you”—I nod to Soria—“know most of it from the tales you were told. That’s why we’ve been reading the journals. That’s why I was in the garden. I was trying to see if I can control it.”
“So you did make the flowers bloom?” Soria looks both astonished and proud.
“Honestly, I don’t know. I was trying to. But even with the journals, it doesn’t really explain how. It was only after I gave up that anything happened.”
Vale looks at me intently. I sink down onto the low couch and hang my head in my hands before Vale finally speaks.
“Harmony.”
