Page 25 of Pawns of Salistya

Having control over all four elements plus some additional magic, I was the strongest mage known on this continent, and even I didn’t know how to store magic in objects. Maybe I needed to keep a close eye on the Nyarellean Queen as well, not just the Marlyst King at the Royal Forum, to see if I can find out what their beliefs are about Fyriane’s history. Thank the Goddess for my ability to teleport frequently without needing to regenerate my power often – I don’t know how anyone can successfully spy without it. There’s too many places to be, and not enough time.

On top of this, there were now the matters of my love life. Eliasson would be dealt with soon, so that was one down, but Sir? I had no clue what to do. Understandably, my marriage had changed everything. Our love story could be likened to the books Mer and I read. He’d chased me, and originally I was, quite frankly, not interested. Back then I was too busy enjoying my newfound freedom, and, having only been exposed to controlling and barbaric Salistyan men, my opinion of men in general was extremely low.Why would I tie myself to a relationship only to be treated as an object? A toy to be played with and controlled, never to be seen as an equal partner? No, thanks.

But he turned out to be different. His values and beliefs were in line with the liberal Solistans. He didn’t show any Salistyan tendencies. Soon my walls had started dropping, and our love grew into one of adoration, respect, and, above all, equality. His touches were doting, his bedroom caresses sensual, always giving as much as he got.

Now our relationship had turned into something else. Something dark, accusatory, and resentful. It was a far cry from what it had been. Although I loved the rough, physical aspect to our relationship, I equally craved the soft touches we once shared, and the feeling of warmth, like being in perpetual sunshine, I would get when we made love. He was the only man I enjoyed making love to, the only one with whom it felt like it meant something. But we hadn’t shared moments like those since my marriage.

That night on the Isles had left a bad taste in my mouth I hadn’t been able to get rid of. The more I thought on his short rebuffs, his dismissal of my feelings, the increasing blame placed on me for anything and everything, the more I realised that in the last year he had never taken accountability for any of his less than desirable actions. And there were plenty of those to go around. Up until now, I had dismissed them, excusing his actions as being hurt, for losing me in a sense. For my unwillingness to run away with him, to live a life in exile.

But that night? It awakened something. Forced me to look at things in a different light, like how instead of providing an excuse or an apology, he would place the onus of his behaviour on me and my actions. Whether I was not doing enough to earn his love, rubbing my relationship with Eliasson in his face, being too emotional tothink logically, there was always something. And it would always result in a punishment.

The lines had become blurry. Sure, in the moment it was fun. But on reflection, the punishment didn’t feel like a fun, sexual act fulfilling both our desires anymore. It didn’t feel healthy between us now. He hadn’t stayed. There was no after care, no talking it through, no checking on me. Nothing. And that was a problem. I was discarded how I always imagined the Salistyan women in the breeding villages were once the men have their way with them. It was awful, not something I ever wanted to experience again.

I needed to see him, though, to test the waters to see whether my realisations were correct. And if they were, well, I would need to have a serious think about how I would navigate us moving forward.

I clicked my fingers, summoning a piece of paper and pen before I could back away from the realisation that we needed to have a conversation. I wrote a note, scrunched it up, and felt it leave my hand, making its way to him. I couldn’t let this linger anymore, not with the rulers of the other Doms days away from arriving. I needed all my focus there.

Sighing, I cast my magic wide, sifting through the nearby presences. Satisfied that the closest presence was far away enough to not see anything, I flicked my wrist around my head once in a circular motion, willing the branches of the willow tree I was sitting under to grow long towards the ground. I’d need to undo it later or risk too many questions I didn’t want to answer, but it effectively created a circular boundary around me, the branch walls unable to be penetrated from the outside. It also meant it was annoyingly dark. Maybe I did toogood of a job calling on the branches.

I sat there for quite some time, waiting for him to appear. By the time he teleported, I was on edge, and had gotten up to pace back and forth.

‘You called?’

I could feel his hot breath on my neck and forced myself to physically hold in a shiver. I cleared my throat, taking a step away before turning around to face him. ‘We need to talk.’

‘About?’

‘Us,’ I exhaled, closing my eyes, running my hands down my face. Despite my hands covering my eyes, light began to infiltrate the cracks. Dropping my hands, I saw his two extended ones. A ball of fire in one was lighting up the space; the other held a bouquet of yellow roses.

‘You forgot a light in your makeshift cave,’ he smiled ruefully. It was a smile I hadn’t seen on his face in such a long time that it made me melt into the sixteen-year-old girl who fell in love with him. Have I been overreacting about the other night?

‘Show off.’ I rolled my eyes, trying my best to not give him anything. Not until he apologised.

‘And these are for you.’ He stepped forward, forcing the yellow roses into my hand and not letting go.

I allowed the touch for a second before taking a smooth step away. ‘Thank you. What drove you to buy me some flowers?’ I asked cautiously, hoping it was his version of apologising.

‘Well, I was hoping we would see each other today. I know you’re going through a lot and roses are your favourite.’

The warmth I had felt curdled. Yes, roses were my favourite but not yellow roses. Red ones were, the roses of love. Yellow roses are the kind of flowers you give to someone as a condolence for their grandma’s death. Last I checked, my grandmother didn’t die yesterday. She was long gone.

I took a good, hard look at the roses and noticed that out of the twelve, seven of them were already starting to wilt. I called my magic to the surface. Nostrils flaring, I zoned in on the wiltedflowers. They lacked the sweet and spicy notes usually present in fresh flowers, so I knew they must have been cut around a week ago. Which meant they would have been on sale in the markets, about to be thrown out. Considering the time it took for him to receive my note and get here, I would put gold on him teleporting to some markets before coming, realising something was amiss. But he would have been disgusted at the steep price of red roses and settled for these dying yellow ones instead.

So in translation, it said,I had no idea you would want to see me today. I know our relationship isn’t great right now, so I rushed around to grab you something. I didn’t want to pay the full price for red roses though, despite having plenty of gold, but these yellow ones were on sale.

The idiot shouldn’t have bothered.

‘Thanks.’ That was the politest response I could give. And I must admit, I’m proud of myself for not snapping.

‘Honestly, Valare? I don’t know why I bother,’ he snapped, his emotions turning on a dime like they always do when I don’t react how he wants me to.

Here we go. Well, at least he got one diplomatic response out of me before my temper snapped to the surface. ‘Youdon’t know why you bother? Are you hearing yourself right now?’

‘I come as soon as I can, I give you flowers trying to be thoughtful, and the only response you have isthanks.’

‘Well, you docomeas soon as you can. Can’t fucking argue with that part,’ I muttered.

‘Excuse me?’

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