by Genna Love
“Well, I wasn’t expecting quite as much detail, but it’s fair to assume that you were angry?”
“Very.” Zarah realized he hadn’t moved his hands from her waist.
“When my powers first appeared, I had very little control over them. And absolutely no control when I was angry.”
“So, what are you saying?” And what did she want to be the truth? If her childhood dream had really come true, would she be happy? Or would it be the worst thing to ever happen to her? Because her entire life as she knew it was over now. Even if she wasn’t actually a mage, and the whole thing was some freak incident, she would never be welcomed back home. Not without risking yet another war with Cardasia.
“Only mages can access magic, and unless there’s another explanation for your betrothed’s burned face, you must be a mage.”
Another rush of heat swelled inside her. What she didn’t understand was how it was all possible. Two days ago, she’d never done an ounce of magic. And not for lack of trying. Something had to have triggered the power inside her. It was the only possible answer that made any sense.
“Did you feel anything when you saved me?” She remembered the jolt of heat that struck her when their fingers met. It wasn’t just her hand that warmed to his touch. Her entire body had responded.
“I’m not sure. I couldn’t think about anything but getting you away from that guard.” His forehead crinkled as his eyes narrowed.
“What if, somehow, I pulled the magic from you?” The idea seemed ludicrous. She didn’t know a lot about magic. She’d never heard of anyone being able to use someone else’s power, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a logical answer to the question of how she used magic completely out of the blue.
“It’s possible.” As if suddenly noticing his unmoved hands, Taariq pulled away and rubbed the back of his head. He broke her gaze, and glanced at the wall to his left. “Well, I think that answers the question of if you used magic.”
Zarah followed his stare to the dark hand-shaped imprint seared into the wall where she’d touched for balance.
“How?” was the only word she could find. She hadn’t meant to burn anything. She reached up and placed her palm over the handprint. It was a perfect fit. Burning Marius had felt like an impossible fluke, but now, as her hand pressed into the spot on the wall she’d scorched, everything became more real.
Taariq gently pulled her hand away from the wall. “We can’t get any answers tonight, but we’ll figure this out.” He tucked the long strand of hair that hung in her face behind her ear. “For now, let’s get some rest. You can have the bed, and I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“Thank you.” Zarah grabbed his hand and squeezed. “I don’t know what I would have done if—”
He gently covered her mouth with fingers. “—nothing happened. You’re here now. Everything will be okay.”
It wasn’t a promise he could possibly keep. He’d saved her virtue the night before, but if the guards found them, his magic wouldn’t be able to save her again. It would only get him hung alongside her.
When Taariq stepped away, Zarah shivered. She hadn’t realized the heat his body had been radiating so close to hers.
“I don’t have any female nightwear to offer you, or I would,” he said as he grabbed two extra blankets from a basket beside the bed.
“It’s fine. I can sleep in my chemise.” Zarah tried but she couldn’t reach the top button. “Would you mind?”
Taariq tossed the blankets on the floor and came to her.
She pulled her hair out of his way. As he undid all twenty buttons, she could feel his heat again, his warm breath blowing on her neck.
His finger grazed the back of her neck, sending a hum straight to her core. “Thank you.”
“Of course, Princess.”
She spun around, suddenly conscious of the sheerness of the satin fabric covering her chest. “Call me Zarah, please.”
He kept his gaze appropriately on her face. “We better get some sleep, Zarah.”
Her name on his lips caused her heart to flutter.
Soon, Taariq was lying in the bed he made himself near the door, and Zarah was tucked beneath the covers of his actual bed. She couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. Why should he be uncomfortable just for her?
“Are you sure you don’t want your bed?” she asked, while staring up at the ceiling.
“I’m not going to make the Princess of Lyria sleep on the floor,” he replied.
She turned on her side toward him. “I could scoot over and we could share the bed.” The suggestion was scandalous. Sharing a bed with a man she’d only just met. What would her mother say? But it wasn’t like sleeping next to someone was a crime, no matter their gender.
“If I move up there, neither of us will get much sleep,” he said.
A tingle hummed between her legs. “But—” She wanted to disagree and insist they could rest without anything happening, but she stopped herself. She’d never felt so connected to someone she’d just met. The truth was she had no idea how strong—or weak—her willpower was.
“Good night, Princess.”
“Good night.”
She pulled the scratchy wool blanket over her chest. This was the first time she’d shared a room with a man. But it wasn’t like they’d done anything scandalous. Still, she could hear the lecture her mother would give if she knew.
Thinking of her family made Zarah sick inside. As much as she’d wished to be free from everything it meant to be a princess, she’d never wanted another family. How were they now as they worried about her? Were they even worried? If they saw Marius’s face, would they disclaim her and strip her title? Did any of it matter if she could never go home?
Thoughts of her family were only the beginning. The uncertainty of what was happening to her dug its sharp claws into her mind. As crazy as it was, she’d used magic. Did that make her a mage? Or had it all been some fluke? Just some cruel trick played to shake up her life then leave her with nothing? But she couldn’t stop herself from imagining that the magic wasn’t some temporary ability, and that maybe, just maybe, it was there to stay and her entire life was about to change.
Questions bounced around in her mind until she lost herself in the sound of Taariq breathing, finally succumbing to a deep slumber.
Zarah
Zarah rolled over, pushing away the rough wool blanket covering her face.
In the castle, she would always use a wool blanket in the winter months, but it had been made from the softest wool available in all three kingdoms. She wasn’t complaining, or at least she was trying not to complain, but waking up had only reminded her of the prior day’s events, leaving her in a bad mood.
When she finally opened her eyes, determined to face the morning, the first thing she saw was Taariq folding a blanket, totally nude. She really should let him know she had awoken. It would be the courteous thing to do. But she’d never seen a naked man, and Taariq’s glorious body did not disappoint.
She stared at the ripped muscles of his stomach, shifting downward as his torso cut into a V, straight to his manhood. His flesh was soft, then, but judging by its length when relaxed, she could only imagine what it might look like fully erect.
Her imagination wandered even further. Although she’d never been with a man, thanks to the naughty novels she’d found in her library, she had all sorts of lustful material to pull from.
She was in the middle of reading one about a handmaiden to the queen who’d fallen in love with a stable boy. The character would sneak away in the night and make love to the handsome man in his hut next to the barn. His chiseled arms would hold her as they lied there, naked and worn out from fucking like animals.
Zarah had just gotten to the part where the queen had discovered the affair. Now, she’d never learn if the lovers found a way to defy all odds to be together. How long would it be before someone discovered the book hidden in between her mattress and bedframe?
Taariq fit the description of a love interest
perfectly. His lustrous lips were made for kissing, and she pictured them trailing a line down her breast bone and passed her abdomen and...
When he turned and caught her watching him, heat flooded her cheeks.
He covered himself with the now-folded blanket. “I didn’t know you were awake. I…”
As Zarah’s face cooled, she giggled. He was clearly more embarrassed than she was. “Thought you’d give me a show to distract me from how royally fucked my life is now?”
“I didn’t know you wanted a show.” Taariq smirked. He dropped the blanket to the ground, displaying himself once again as he grabbed the trousers slung over his clothing chest and slipped them on. “You have quite the mouth for a princess. I thought nobles were all prim and proper.”
“Most are.” Zarah swung her legs off the bed and sat up. “But I’m not a typical princess.”
She wasn’t even sure she was a princess anymore.
Although Taariq now wore britches, his defined torso was still on display. She’d read of warriors training for battle to gain muscle, but he didn’t seem to be a soldier. Though, truthfully, she didn’t know much about him. “So, if you weren’t trying to distract me by prancing around naked, then why weren’t you clothed?”
“The fire in my veins burns hot. Keeping cool this time of year is nearly impossible.” He sat next to her and touched the back of his hand to her cheek. “I haven’t used any magic since last night, but my hands stay warm all the same.”
Zarah covered his free hand, resting on his knee, with one of her own, feeling its warmth. “As a kid, I tried to imagine what being a mage would be like.”
“I thought the crown despised us?” Taariq pulled his hand from her face and traced a finger in small circles down her forearm then over each of her knuckles.
“I told you I’m not typical.” Zarah forced herself to breath. “When I was a child my father found out I yearned for magic, earning me a bare-assed lashing.”
It was by far the worst punishment she’d ever received and had been so humiliating. As a princess, she had always gotten away with so much. Climbing things she shouldn’t, taking toys from the other children she played with. Once she even smacked a boy right across his cheek when she heard him tell Aerilyn she was ugly. Her nursemaid didn’t even ask her why she’d hit him. She just escorted the crying boy out of the room and let the princesses continue playing with the other children.
“Did that squelch your desire?”
“Not at all.” Somehow knowing it was forbidden had made her crave it all the more. Her entire life, the moment someone told her she couldn’t do or have something, she’d dig her heels even further into the ground. Her mother called her stubborn, but she liked to think she was determined. Most of the time, she’d find a way to get what she wanted, but her persistence hadn’t brought her magic. At least, not until now.
Zarah’s temperature rose, and she wasn’t sure if it was from the sudden desire coursing through her or the heat emanating from Taariq. She wanted to run her fingers down his abdomen and feel the muscle beneath his skin.
Pulling herself from the fantasy, Zarah brought her hands to her lap. She needed to focus. Now wasn’t the time to lust for a man she’d only just met, even if her body did all it could to convince her otherwise. “So, where do we go to find answers?”
“I’m not quite sure,” he said. “But I have something I need to take care of first. You can wait here, and I will be back in a few hours with some food.”
“Wait here for hours? Alone?” Zarah didn’t want to stay behind, stuck inside the small room with nothing to think about but how much trouble she was in. “Where are you going?”
“I…” he hesitated. “Rent is due.”
“You have a job?”
“Not exactly.” Taariq stood and finished getting dressed. His sudden silence was strange. A moment ago, they’d been flirting over his displayed cock, and now he was avoiding her gaze. “You’ll be safest here.”
Zarah folded her arms across her chest. “Why won’t you tell me where you’re going?” What if she was wrong about him? What if he planned to turn her in to save his own neck? “I don’t see why you’re being so mysterious unless you plan to backstab me and hand me over to the guards.”
He flinched as if she’d just slapped him. “I would never do that.”
The intensity in the promise sent a flutter through her. She’d only just met the man, but something in his tone assured her of his trustworthiness. “I’m sorry… I just don’t understand.”
His shoulders slumped as he sighed. “The truth is, I’m headed to the Penrith market to steal some coins from a merchant so I can go gamble them and, hopefully, earn enough to pay my rent and return what I stole to the merchant.”
“A thief? Well, it isn’t a very chivalrous profession, but it’s better than being an assassin.” Zarah grabbed her dress, which she’d folded and set at the head of the bed the night before. “And if you steal the money and then return it, are you really even a thief?”
“I only return it if I don’t lose it all.” He watched her, curiosity filling his gaze.
“Then we better make sure you win. I’ve been told I’m very fortuitous. Perhaps, I can be your lucky charm.” She had never gambled, but while other noble girls were playing with dolls or dressing up and having tea parties, Zarah spent most of her time outside, climbing trees, learning to shoot a bow, even riding horses. She’d fallen plenty of times, from trees and horses both, but she had never broken a single bone. If that wasn’t lucky, she didn’t know what was.
“You can’t wear that again.” He gestured to her black lace dress. “You’ll stand out like a beggar at a ball.”
“Well, I can’t exactly wear this.” She stood and glanced down at her chemise, realizing the sunlight shining into the room made it even more transparent than it had been the night before.
She resisted the urge to cover herself. Proper ladies were modest, and she prided herself for being anything but proper. She’d already seen him naked, shielding herself wouldn’t be fair. The thrill that he might see her bosom through the thin material sent a shiver between her thighs.
He eyed her, allowing his gaze to lower just slightly before bringing it back to her eyes.“How about you stay here long enough for me to go trade that dress for something…simpler.”
Zarah had never been one to grow attached to clothing, but even if she had, she’d kissed Prince Marius in that wretched thing and would be happy to see it gone forever.
She held out the dress. When Taariq reached for it, she pulled it back. “You promise you’ll come back and take me with you to the market?” She tilted her head just like her mother always did when she wanted Zarah to vow to listen to her advice.
“You have my word.”
Zarah
Zarah watched Taariq leave the room, now, to her disappointment, fully clothed.
He’d sworn to come back with an appropriate outfit for her to wear throughout the city, and then together, they would head to the Penrith market.
It was strange how much she trusted him already. Something between the sincerity in his eyes and an unexplainable feeling in her gut kept doubt or fear from consuming her.
The same intuition that had been right about Prince Marius believed Taariq was trustworthy, and that was enough for her.
To pass the time, Zarah decided to make the bed she’d slept in. Something she’d never actually done before. But she’d watched her handmaiden and other servants do it plenty of times. How hard could it be?
She started by pulling the linen sheets snug. They were much coarser than the ones on her bed in the castle. But it was time she got used to the downgrade in luxuries. Her access to fineries vanished the moment she’d burned Prince Marius’s face. Next, she tugged the wool blanket tight and smoothed out the wrinkles.
That wasn’t so bad. Making a bed was hardly the epitome of success, but even doing one small thing for herself raised her confidence. The scariest part of
leaving her kingdom life was the fear of falling flat on her face from the everyday realities of most people. Although she’d always been aware of the privileges being princess carried, she never noticed how useless they’d made her. She didn’t know how to do much of anything. People cooked for her, cleaned for her. They made her clothes. They even dressed her and drew her bath, for fuck’s sake.
Most commoner children were more useful than she was.
She might be late to the struggles of ordinary life, but she wouldn’t allow her upbringing to define her. She would just have to figure things out as she went.
Once she’d finished making the bed, she scanned the room.
Taariq kept the place neat. Besides the bed, there was a clothing chest and a wooden chair and desk in the corner. The scattered papers on the desktop caught her attention. She pulled out the chair and sat down.
Rectangular pieces of parchment, their edges torn in nearly perfect lines, held meticulous sketches. One of a mother picking up her child as it ran away from her. Another of a vase full of tulips. Zarah browsed through them all, settling on the head of a beautiful horse as her favorite. The detail in each one astonished her. If she had even a tenth his skill, she would have saved herself hours of lecturing from her mother.
Zarah startled when Taariq entered the room, clothing folded over his arm.
“I see you found my musings,” he said.
Zarah stacked the drawings and stood. “You’re spectacular.”
“My mother taught me.” He handed her a red and white gown. “I was able to trade your dress for this and a new tunic for me. They’re both nicer than most commoners wear, but not as fancy as your dress. That way, we don’t stand out, but we aren’t mistaken for thieves.” His lips pulled into a full grin that spread across his entire face.
“We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” She held the dress up. It wasn’t lace or silk like most of her dresses, but it seemed a high quality linen. The rounded neckline was outlined with a single line of beadwork. Not particularly fancy, but not plain either. She undid the buttons on the back then turned around and slipped it over her head.
