“Where did this come from, my flame?” he asks as he takes it from me.
“The Sanctum. I didn’t mean to take it, and well… it seems to have gotten caught up in the mix when items were brought here.” A twinge of guilt runs through me as I question how grave a mistake I may have made.
“It’s all right,” he laughs gently, sensing the rising fear within me. “Those tomes belong to the kingdom. Belong to us.” Leaning back on the pillow, he tilts the book to catch the light before quickly disregarding it. “This once may have been held sacred, but now it’s a nonsensical relic.”
He tosses it aside onto the bed. I scramble to retrieve it, clutching it tightly to my chest the moment it’s in my hands. Without knowing what lies within, I know it did not lose its sacredness due to time—it lost it due to neglect.
“What are you doing?” I scold the mighty king sitting naked in bed, utterly perplexed.
“Mira… what’s gotten into you?”
He reaches for me. I may be bold, but I am rarely loud—at least not like this. Still, I am thankful our chambers are always so isolated.
“How can you just toss it aside like that? It may not make sense, but poetry rarely does at first. Haven’t you ever sat with a phrase long enough to know how it settles into your soul?” I laugh at myself, sopassionate about words. Perhaps I’ve never had someone I felt safe enough with to share this part of myself so freely before.
“Poetry?” With a raised brow, he reaches for the book once more. Morning light now fills the room. We can see the pages clearly as he opens the book between us. “Mira, it’s just signs and symbols. Sure, I recognize a few common alchemical marks, but it’s little more than scribbles.”
I freeze. Looking at the lines, it takes a moment for my mind to catch up with my eyes.
?? ??
Water. Air.
How do I know their marks? Not just the shapes for the elements, but each line. Word for word. No—symbols. All of them.
“Vale… I can read this.” I was right to be tentative with the release of that thought. He is clearly taken aback. “Can’t you?” I ask, even as I feel in my chest what he is about to say.
He shakes his head slowly, eyes closing tightly before he looks at me again. “No, Mira. I can’t. No one can. Not for hundreds of years. Not since the Fade.”
I lean back as the weight fills the space between us. His careful worry gives way to a loving smile.
“Another blessing, I wager. But gods, Mira—this truly breaks things open. More than you know.”
He does not reveal everything in that moment. He insists it is far too large a revelation to be kept between us. With little more than trousers thrown on in haste, he steps into the hallway to deliver a message—one that will pass from one to another until his intent is set into motion.
“Dress for the garden. We will take breakfast there. Ace and Soria will be informed. Mira, this is incredible.”
He rushes back to me, still struggling to keep pace with the morning’s revelations. He takes my face in his hands and kisses me with bright enthusiasm. “Bring the book. I promise I will never again toss aside anything you bring me.”
He smiles and sets off to ready himself properly. I watch as I step into a light gown and reach for a shawl, marveling at the king made undone in somany ways since meeting me—only ever in the best ways, I hope.
We work our way through pleasantries first, sampling the array of fruits and sweetbreads laid out on the iron table in the garden. Red brick paths branch into trails lined with lush flowerbeds. Once due approval is given, we are left to speak more freely—just the four of us.
“Alright, Mira,” Vale says. “Show them the book.”
I pause, reluctant to reveal not just the tome, but the parts of me it will direct attention to. I brush my thumb across the tattered leather still held under the table. With a deep inhale—and the trust of those I now sit with—I move.
Soria studies it quietly as I set it on the table. Ace, on the other hand, wastes no time. He sweeps it up and inspects it.
“What is this ratty thing, and why did it cause such a commotion so early in the day? I may have had time to rise, but do not expect me to shine.”
“Ace, is there ever a time you are anything less than resplendent?” I tease.
“She speaks the truth,” he replies casually, cracking open the spine. It creaks, and I wince as flecks of dust and leather scatter across the table.
“Careful, please.” Even Ace senses the concern in my voice and adjusts his handling with newfound respect.
“Oh, I recognize these… old prophecies, right? The stuff scholars argue over. Gods, Mira, where did you find this relic?” He starts to laugh, then thinks better of it, returning the book to me with uncharacteristic discomfort.
