I put on my cloak and pulled a chair up to the window where the rope dangled. The chill didn’t stop me from peering out my window every few minutes until Mare stood in the garden below, her face barely visible between the arborvitae that lined the castle wall. I waved, resisting the urge to call out a hello as she gave the rope several experimental tugs. Climbing didn’t look easy, but she managed to pull herself up, the old horse halters and ropes holding firmly.
When she clambered through the window, my hands and feet lost all sense of what they ought to be doing. She pulled up the rope and closed my shutters, and then we stared at each other for a moment that stretched out until I knew my cheeks burned as scarlet as the red silk covers on my bed.
“So, um, how was your day?” I finally asked.
“Oh, you know, the usual. Got drunk on cheap ale down in Lyrra. Growled at a few children. Kicked a few puppies.” She pulled off her hat, letting her braid tumble down her back.
“You did not!” I giggled.
“Well, it’s about a quarter true,” she said, her eyes sparkling with merriment. “I did spend the day down in the cresthaven, and Nils and I did go to one of the more unsavory pubs we frequent, since we haven’t had much luck at the Deaf Dog. Though I’m not sure how much longer we can keep going to the Pelham. The streets feel dangerous now.”
“Tell me what the Pelham is like,” I said. It honestly didn’t matter, but the sound of her musical voice was so welcome to my ears that I could have listened to her read the treasury inventory of all four Northern Kingdoms. Happily.
We sat side by side on my chaise.
“It’s dark,” she said. “The kind of place where you don’t want to eat anything you drop on the table. And pretty much everyone in there looks like they’d take the food right off your plate if you don’t keep an eye on ’em. The ale is cheap but goes down easy. Most of the serving girls are missing a few teeth and don’t look like they’ve ever found use for a hairbrush.”
“Mmm,” I said. I plucked a sprig of arborvitae from the sleeve of her black shirt and twirled it between my fingers. As I tossed it into the fire, my magic rose unbidden to incinerate it right before it hit the flames. I sat back quickly, but Mare didn’t seem to notice.
“What’s troubling is that information is harder to come by now. In spite of so many Recusants having been rounded up, they seem to keep appearing, and the violence against them keeps increasing. They’ve left what used to be their meeting place, and no one has any leads. They’re too wise now to reveal their locations,” she said.
“I’ve heard from a friend that they’re springing up all over the kingdom,” I told her, thinking of Ellaeni and Claera. “They’re being persecuted everywhere as well. I fear for some of my friends.”
“Yes, Kriantz mentioned that too. But you have friends among the Recusants?” Mare asked. “If you do, that could be very helpful! We could ask them—”
“No, no.” I shook my head. “One of my friends is courting someone who has a gift. That’s how I found out. But she hasn’t received a message for a long time and fears something has happened. I’ve been trying to look into it for her.”
“Does the person have a fire gift, by any chance?” Mare asked.
Fear flickered in me, a mirror of the flames in my hearth. “No,” I said. “Water.”
“Pity. The Recusants mentioned someone with a fire gift, someone powerful. But they didn’t know who it was, only that they had sensed a burst of magic the night of the assassination attempt on my father. I was hoping maybe your friend’s love might be the explanation for that.”
“No, I don’t think it was her.” My mouth got drier by the minute.
“Maybe once they start testing people more comprehensively, they’ll track the person down. It might provide some of the answers we’re looking for.”
I swallowed hard. It couldn’t be much longer before paranoia made the Directorate start testing courtiers.
“Mare? I have to tell you something.” I trembled with fear, but the words were unspooling and I couldn’t go back. “That night the assassin tried to kill the king . . . I was so afraid. And when he struck out at Thandi, and then you . . . I was scared you would be hurt. That you might die.”
“That makes two of us,” she said. “But it doesn’t matter. He’s dead.” She touched my arm reassuringly.
“I know. But there’s something else I need to tell you about that night,” I said.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
My throat closed on the words. I couldn’t speak them.
Instead I gazed into the heart of the fire and released the barest bit of my magic into the world. Sparks lifted out of the fire, drifting into the room, burning more brightly as they rose. My control wavered as they grew close to the ceiling, and I clamped back down on the magic. The sparks popped all at once, showering us with cinders.
Mare stared at me, dumbfounded.
My cheeks burned with shame and fear. When she’d said she would always be my friend, she hadn’t known my secret. But I wanted her word to hold true—and that meant I needed to tell her.
“Please forgive me,” I said. “My mother told me to hide it, to take the secret to my grave. And it was always such a small gift, a parlor trick. Not real magic. But ever since I came here, it’s been out of control. It’s stronger than me, Mare, and stronger every day. I’m afraid. I don’t know what to do.”
“It was you,” she whispered. “Not Lord Kriantz, not the knife. You burned that assassin.”
I nodded, tears stinging the corners of my eyes. “I never meant to do it. I was so scared. When he struck at you and Thandi, I couldn’t hold it back.”
Mare’s expression was indecipherable.
“Please don’t hate me,” I said, my voice small. My lip quivered, and I tried to keep my chin up even as my gaze fell from Mare’s face. The floor swam in my vision as tears pooled.
She put a tentative hand on my arm.
“Nothing could make me hate you,” she said.
“But it’s forbidden. It’s dangerous,” I said, daring her to contradict me.
“Yes,” she said. A heavy pause hung between us. “But it means a lot that you trust me with the truth.”
I swiped away the tears with a shaky smile. The weight of carrying my secret alone in Mynaria had finally been lifted.
“What are you going to do?” she asked gently.
“I don’t know,” I said. My problems were far from solved. “If they start testing everyone, it’s only a matter of time before someone finds out. The alliance will collapse. I keep thinking that maybe after I’m married, I can do something about the Recusants. They have to be held responsible for what happened to Cas, but maybe there is more they could do for us. Some way they could work for the kingdom instead of against it. If there is a way to remove or hide my Affinity, maybe they know a way. . . .”
I shivered. Releasing the magic had somehow left me colder than before, and the air in the room was still cool from when I’d had the shutters open for Mare. I rubbed my hands together and tucked them under my arms, neither doing much to make them feel better.
“Give those to me,” Mare said. She scooted closer and reached out, beckoning with her fingers when I didn’t immediately comply.
“My hands?” I squeaked.
“Yes, silly.” She took my hands, the warmth of her touch sending a shock through me. “Denna . . . I don’t know that much about magic. But I don’t think the Recusants were entirely responsible for Cas. We have to figure out who forged that knife and why they wanted to frame Zumorda. Perhaps that person or power is behind what happened to Cas. But most important, I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”
“Thank you,” I said. I wanted to cry again with the relief her words brought me. She knew, and yet she wasn’t running away. She knew, and she still held my hands as though they were the most precious things in the world. She cradled them tenderly, massaging the warmth back into my fingers. Magic hummed thr
ough my entire body. I didn’t dare move or speak lest it make her stop or result in me accidentally lighting something on fire. Even with the riding calluses, her hands were silken in comparison with Thandi’s. The care she took with me, with every touch, was exquisite—as if she knew my body without having to be told anything about it.
“Can I ask you a question?” she asked.
I nodded.
“What does it feel like? Using the magic?”
Of all the things for her to ask, I hadn’t expected that.
“It makes my hands tingle when it surges up,” I said. “Using it makes me feel like I’m giving away pieces of myself, but there’s a thrill in it too. Sometimes it feels dangerous and out of control and like I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“Sounds kind of like the moment right before you kiss someone,” she said. She smiled a little and dropped her gaze.
Her comment lingered with me the rest of the night, as did the way she’d accepted my Affinity with such unexpected gentleness and grace. Every time she looked at me, I felt like the only person in all the kingdoms. She lit me from within.
Long after she left, the fire in the hearth still burned brightly, a fitting accompaniment to my emotions. The first night I had felt this way was when Mare and I were in the garden among the fireflies. Something about the way they drifted through the garden had made me feel so alive, and yet standing next to her had grounded me. Staring into the fire, I imagined that little pieces of flame separated from it, rising up to drift through the room as the fireflies had that night.
A spark landed in my half-empty teacup and hissed out in the lukewarm liquid.
And for the first time it didn’t scare me that my magic came with such explosive ease in Mynaria—I simply watched the pinpoints of light drifting lazily through my bedroom, fantasizing about that night I’d stood in the garden with Mare. And just as I had pulled the sparks out of the fire, I put them back one by one, each spark spiraling back to the heart of the flame until it dimmed to nothing but embers.
I came out of the trance as if waking from a dream—a dream that left me barely able to hold myself upright or keep my eyes open. But in that moment I was sure of something for the first time: my magic was no parlor trick, or the result of too many prayers to the fire god.
I had an Affinity. A powerful one.
I would never be able to hide it.
And it wasn’t Thandi who had shown me the size of my gift, accepted me, and grown the spark into a fire.
It was Mare.
With that knowledge came the realization that I was absolutely, without any shred of doubt, profoundly in love with her.
If only I had been anyone else in the world, maybe I could have told her. But my future was set in stone.
THIRTY
Mare
SNEAKING INTO DENNA’S ROOMS BECAME A DAILY HABIT. Her Affinity should have frightened me but instead made me feel closer to her and honored that she trusted me with that terrifying part of herself. I tried to convince myself that our stolen sunlengths together were enough, until one night when I stayed over so late that I fell asleep beside her and woke up the next morning with her small form curled up next to me, the warmth of her back pressing into my chest. I loved the soft skin of her shoulder and the gentle curve of her waist and the sound of her sleeping breaths. And though in that moment we were almost as close as two people could be, it still didn’t feel close enough.
When it came time to meet her the evening after I spent the night in her bedroom, I could no longer shake my uneasiness about what the future might hold. As soon as we sat down, she launched into an exasperated speech about plans for the wedding. I could hardly stand to listen. I wanted her to belong to me, not my brother.
“Denna,” I interrupted her when she finally paused in her rant. “I’m wondering if there is something else you haven’t thought of.” It was now or never.
“What? Oh Hells, did I forget something for the wedding?” She sat upright, a look of total panic on her face.
“Possibly,” I said drily. “Did you forget that in less than a moon you’re marrying my brother?”
Denna stared at me. “Of course not. That’s the whole point.”
“But you do realize what that means,” I said. I hoped she would take the hint, because spelling it out in detail hurt with every word.
“I don’t understand.”
“You. Thandi. Married. Prince. Princess. King. Queen.”
“Yes, yes, yes. What does that have to do with anything I don’t already know?”
“Denna, I’m not going to be climbing up any ropes into a room you’re sharing with my brother.” All our moments together were stolen, and once she moved in with my brother, there would be none.
“I know.” Her voice faltered.
“And you aren’t going to be able to sneak out. When you get married, spending time with me is not suddenly going to be all right. It’ll be quite the opposite. They’ll have you busy with twice the things you’re doing now. You’ll be expected to host every event that ever gets planned in these walls. You’ll have to do cresthaven tours. Hopefully they’ll wise up and put you on the Directorate right away. There’s no way you’re going to fit me in, sneaking or not.”
A series of emotions crossed Denna’s face that I couldn’t quite decipher.
“Why do you care so much, anyway?” she asked. She stood up and faced me.
“What?” Her challenging tone took me aback.
“No, Mare, truly. Why does it matter?” she pressed.
“Because . . . because I care about you,” I finished lamely.
“You can care about me just as much when I’m married. You can show that you’re my friend by helping me get through all this, by making it more bearable. By staying here and offering me your counsel and friendship.” She leaned closer.
“Yes, but—”
“But what, Mare? What do you want from me?”
My chest tightened and my throat closed against the words that needed to be spoken. She didn’t understand that friendship wasn’t enough anymore, and I didn’t know how to tell her. It would destroy everything.
“Mare, you have to tell me why this matters to you,” she said.
“Because . . . because I don’t want to be without you,” I said.
“But you aren’t going to be without me! Not unless you marry someone else and leave.” She stepped back and threw up her arms.
“Yes, I will,” I said, finally snapping. I stood up. “Denna, you don’t understand what it will be like. You’re not going to have a life of your own. I may play a small role in it if I stay here, but it isn’t going to be like it is now. And I don’t want things to change, unless change means I get to spend more time with you, not less.”
Plus she’d be married to my brother and sharing his bed. My future would be that of a spinster, growing old alone, withering away as I watched them build their life together. I had to speak now, before it was too late.
“Denna, the truth is that I wish it were me, and not Thandi, who you were slated to marry. I’d suffer the crown if it meant a life with you.” Every word hurt. I had pulled out my still-beating heart and laid it on the floor before her. There was only one more thing to say. “I love you.” Tears rose to choke me.
She stared at me as if I’d struck her, so still that I couldn’t begin to imagine what was going on in her mind. Telling her my feelings had been a terrible mistake.
I turned away, my chest caving in. At least I could marry someone else or make a life on my own, never having to wonder if things could have been different.
“I have to go.” I sniffled, stupid tears already running down my cheeks. I hated that Denna was seeing me so weak and broken. I went for the window, grabbed the rope with shaking hands, and swung my leg over the edge. Then suddenly she was beside me, gripping my arm, her eyes gleaming with tears of their own.
She pushed me back against the wide frame of the window, and my breath hitched in my th
roat. In spite of knowing that I had to flee, my body stayed frozen in place, unwilling to let go of my final moment close to her. An unanswered question formed in the charged air between us. She brushed a tear from my cheek with gentle fingers, and every inch of my traitorous body responded with longing so fierce it burned.
“I can’t lose you,” she whispered.
Something like hope flickered in my chest.
She leaned forward and kissed me.
THIRTY-ONE
Dennaleia
MARE’S BODY WENT RIGID AT MY TOUCH. I KISSED her slowly, deeply, every feeling I had for her pooling into my lips as I tasted the sweetness of her. An icy wind cut through the open window, making no difference in the heat between us. She had awakened me to the world, and now it was my turn to bring her to life by showing her how much she meant to me. The rope slapped against the windowsill as it fell from her limp fingers, and I knew I had won.
“I love you, too,” I whispered.
All at once her hands were everywhere, fumbling to get a grip. She pulled me in so close that I was almost in her lap, her inner thigh pressing into my hip as she kissed me again. A jolt of heat burst in the pit of my stomach as she softly bit my lip, teasing me more deeply into her embrace. When we finally broke apart, breathless, I couldn’t even feel the cold.
“Mare,” I said softly, holding her face in my trembling hands. Tears still lingered on her face, and I used my thumbs to brush them away.
“I should go. . . .”
“No, stay.” I kissed her cheek. “Please.” I tugged her down from the windowsill and back over to the couch. She followed me on unsteady legs. I held her hand as she sat down, afraid that if I let go, she’d try to flee.
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