The applause slowly dissipates, and an eerie silence takes its place when four Annovian guards break from the line behind the Queen to form a square around me, each one facing inward from every corner.
Lars’ eyes narrow as he steps in closer, squaring his shoulders. Varic’s jaw ticks and his eyes dart over each of the Annovian guards as they remain silent. Malin’s magic billows from beneath the throne as each of my Guards lunge when the Annovians lean forward and lift me higher, apparently holding fast to the joists cleverly hidden beneath the flowers.
Varic’s shield expands around me as he charges the Annovian guard closest to him. “What do you think you are doing?” His expression turns murderous. “I do not recall approving of you handling her like this.”
My heart slams against my ribs as I frantically seek a line of sight toward His Majesty. Yet he merely stands there, hands clasped before him with an unnervingly sly grin.
Then dread blankets my being as Prince Auden’s hand comes down over Varic’s shoulder, because this might be it—this might be the moment my heart bursts, my pulse thrumming so loud I can no longer make out any ambient sound.
Varic glares at Prince Auden, who has no understanding of how lucky he is to still be standing and in possession of his limbs.
“This is merely pageantry.” The Prince gestures broadly. “She will be perfectly safe. I promise.” He pats Varic’s shoulder, and my stomach drops when Varic turns to me with fury roiling behind his irises.
He removes the Prince’s hand from his shoulder while the royal’s guards charge forward. Prince Auden flippantly waves them off while his mother steps in front of their quarrel to keep the crowd from witnessing my Lead Guard handling their Prince.
Varic’s hand circles the royal’s wrist and yanks him closer. “From this moment on, you will discuss any and all involvement of Imperial Grand Witch Tasch with me before acting, and only with my express approval. Do you understand and agree?”
Prince Auden nods tersely, then rubs his wrist with a sneer once Varic releases him.
Her Royal Highness steps back and faces the crowd. “The Queen of the Harvest will be escorted to the fields where she will provide us with an offering to the Goddess.”
Varic’s eyes rise to mine, and even from this vantage point, his gaze is claiming—holding my focus until his hand reaches through the shield of his own making to rest over my own. Tears well in my eyes from the tremble in his muscles, loathing how the callous actions of others continue to affect him. Yet his warmth settles something within me, even though it shouldn’t—not under the attention of every living being around us.
“Do you feel comfortable with this?” Varic asks.
I swallow and nod, trying to still the hammering of my heart once he retracts his contact.
“I am only considering allowing them to carry you as it would be safest for the rest of us to have our hands free, should we need them.”
“I agree.”
The creases around his eyes soften before he turns to the Queen.
“We will allow your guards to escort her in honor of your traditions. However, you will both discuss and gain my permission for any action after this.” Varic squares his shoulders and stares back at the royals with a grave reminder of who holds the power here, since his magic alone can kill every one of them.
Both the Queen and the Prince nod in understanding, though Varic must not deem it good enough as he cuffs the Prince’s wrist while the royal waves his guards off with his opposite.
“Should anything happen to her, you will answer to me.”
The Prince audibly swallows. “Understood.”
Varic releases his hold and glances up at me until he seems satisfied with my assent.
The Emperor and his Guards follow directly behind us, confounding me as to why he didn’t interfere with the conflict.
No longer caring if anyone notices, I stare over at Varic, who strides shoulder to shoulder with the Annovian guard carrying the throne near the front left corner. His shoulders are tight, and his ears are bright crimson, while everything in me screams to climb down and take hold of him—to do anything I can to ease this strain on him.
None of this is fair. He doesn’t deserve this level of stress. They shouldn’t get away with putting him through this.
My magic simmers beneath my skin, begging to do what it does best, so I allow it to snake inside the bodies of each Annovian guard and royal, imbuing them all with a sense of calm and complacency—ensuring they will comply should my Lead Guard command them. Then I shift my focus to pull on his discomfort, spearing through the wards he’s placed to try to prevent me from doing this exact action.
The Annovian guards shift how they hold the throne as we descend the small set of stairs, and Varic’s temple pulses every time I sway in the slightest, only relaxing once we all make it safely down to the ground.
Additional guards form two rows around our party, and my heart lurches with the number of flaming torches they carry, a sign we will be traveling far enough from the castle to warrant bringing this much light with us. We fall into a steady rhythm as the Queen leads us down a white gravel path.
My eyes grow unfocused as the castle fades from view and the trees on either side blur into nothing. Clouds shift to cover the moon and blanket us in relative darkness, increasing the ominous feeling brought on by the shadows which leap across the landscape every time the orange cast of flames moves across the nearest branches.
Varic’s gaze darts around to survey the Guards carrying me, and I stifle a gasp of surprise when he sends me a tendril of calm. Then I wish to thank him when he siphons the coil of fear otherwise encircling my stomach. I try to catch his notice to show him my appreciation, but he refuses to break his focus. So I send him a thread of gratitude, and my heart quirks when the edge of his mask lifts with his small smile of acknowledgement.
