“Are you all right?” Soria’s voice calls from the hall.
Vale crosses the room and opens it. She and Ace shift uneasily beyond the threshold.
“So, uh, not to alarm you,” Ace says, “but every flame between the parlor and here just ignited at once.” His words land with an odd, careful weight.
My mind reels. I did that. I really did that. I tried—and it worked. A little too well.
“All the way to the parlor?” I ask nervously. “Anywhere else?”
We set into motion, each of us searching a different part of the manor before meeting once more.
“The library was lit, but it seems the study was not,” Vale reports when we return to the parlor.
“It seems it reached a number of rooms but didn’t spread too far,” Soria adds.
I look out the window. The garden lies dark and quiet in the rain. “The guards?” I ask, afraid of the answer.
“They would have been here in an instant if they thought anything was amiss. The staff too, I suspect. Thankfully, the outbuildings seem unaffected.” Vale’s words should reassure me, but they don’t.
“So I can guide it enough to make something happen, but not enough to keep it contained,” I concede reluctantly.
“Perhaps the answers are not within the books, then, my dear,” Soria says softly.
“Does this mean it’s training time?” Ace asks with far too much excitement for my liking.
Now this—this feels dangerous.
Chapter Forty-Four
Soria weaves her fingers through my hair, the quiet ritual helping soothe us both after the past few days of frustration. The idea of training seemed appropriate at the time, but each failed effort seems to take us even farther from our goal.
I have had faint flickers much like the motion in Ace’s wine glass before he dropped it to the floor, yet each time I seem to touch upon the magic, I lose it the moment I become aware.
Ace continues to check if he can harness any himself. Vale continues to lose his patience with every attempt. Soria, however, surprised me. I caught her fingers trickling along a line of creeping ivy, and I am certain she was checking for herself if there might be a glimmer of magic available to them all. So far, the only embers seem to be within me.
The braid now tied in place, hanging heavy across my back, Soria rests her palms on my shoulders and looks at me through the mirror. “Don’t force it, dear. Things happen when they are meant to. Rarely ever before then.” I smile back at her, and she is on her way.
Vale rose early. He wanted to talk to the staff and get things settled. We’ve resumed at least our evening meal in the formal dining room. Our will to train seems to fade as surely as the afternoon each day. Thenearness of others when we share our meal forces us to talk about anything other than magic. A respite we all seem to need.
The shift helps me shed some of the pressure I seem to carry with me now as well. By the time Vale holds me in his arms each night, I can almost forget and just get lost in him. Almost, but not quite. I tend to distract myself with some menial task when he lights the fire, fussing over the coverlet when he strikes the tinderbox. I still feel unsettled after that uncontrollable spread of flame. It may have been relegated to lanterns, candles, and hearths, but it was far more unpredictable than I am comfortable with.
Rising from the vanity, my robe still knotted snugly around me, Vale enters the room as I begin to reach for the muted day dress I am about to put on.
“Not today, my flame,” he says, crossing the room toward me.
I pause, unsure if I’ve made some misstep this early in the day.
He reaches across me and into a trunk. Digging deep, he pulls out not just riding leathers, but the ones I was wearing when I first arrived in Caerhollan. I haven’t seen them since that fateful night. They’ve been mended and cleaned. “This is more fitting for what I have in mind.”
I throw my arms around him, the garments tumbling to the floor. Whatever is in store, I welcome it. “Thank you,” I murmur into his chest. The care, the thought, the reminder of me—more than the queen I am becoming, more than the woman I used to be—all of me.
He strokes at my hair, and I know without a doubt he always has and always will hold all of me. Looking up at him, the light shines behind his weary eyes. It has been a challenging week for us all. An exhausting season. Our smiles break before they fully form. Still so fragile, but never truly gone.
I rise up on my toes, bare feet cold against the wood floor just beyond the reach of the ornate rugs that fill each room. Pressing my lips to his, our mouths part, tongues delicately reaching for each other. We still claim each other with passion each night, though it seems the moments of tender care like this mean even more—the way we always reach for and hold each other.
Renewed energy blooms in my chest as I pull on the leathers. A new, supple shine from the care placed into them seems to be catching.My fingers trace the lines of recently added embellishments, the style and lines of the embossing clearly tying the garments to Caerhollan.
“I hope it’s all right. I asked them to add those,” Vale says softly.
