Page 55 of The Reign of Blood

“I really need to find a real vase for them.”

“Maybe they have one down at the dining hall,” Flora offers, and I hum in agreement.

“Maybe. I was kind of hoping to get some sand and…” My words trail off as my lips purse.

“You want to make one?” Flora asks, and I nod.

“But maybe something from the dining hall will do.” I smile at her, mind made up as I move toward my room.

As I reach for the rose, the thornless stem in my grasp, she speaks. “I think the mages have sand.”

Looking back at them, I find Arlo nodding along with her.

“They do.”

“What would they have sand for?” I ask, confused, as I mindlessly run my fingertip over the petals.

“For their magic. Sand is a widely used item for chants and potions,” Arlo answers with a shrug.

“Oh, that makes sense, I guess.” How had I not thought of that?

“You could ask a mage,” Flora offers, a smile starting to form on her face.

“What mage is going to willingly hand me sand? Me, the certified villain among us all,” I grumble, aware I’m the bad guy to most people on campus.

“I know of one,” she states, eyebrows rising as her smile continues to spread.

Brody.

That’s who she’s referring to.

“Maybe,” I breathe, avoiding her gaze.

“There’s no maybe about it,” she pushes, and I shake my head.

“The kitchen feels safer.” My eyes latch onto hers to find a solid pointed look in place.

“But it won’t make your magic happy.”

Fuck. She’s right there.

“It won’t.” The truth slips from my lips, leaving me feeling vulnerable and exposed, but that’s not how she reacts to them. Frowning, I point a finger at her. “Are you saying that because you can see inside my head or because you understand the feeling?” My gut tells me I already know the answer, but I’m programmed to clarify.

“I understand the feeling,” she answers, her smile softening. “With my mind magic, the hardest thing I’ve had to learn is how to scratch the itch even when it’s not possible.”

“It’s weird when you say that,” Arlo muses, folding his arms over his chest as he gets comfortable against the door.

“Why?”

“The thought of scratching your itch with mind magic makes me think of you actually scratching your brain.”

I shudder at the thought, and now that he’s said it, I’m never going to unsee it.

“Thanks, Arlo,” I grumble, making Flora snicker.

“It’s easier for you,” she states, pointing at Arlo. “You’re a water fae. If your magic flares to life inside of you, desperate to escape, you can connect with the water and ease the sensation. Whereas dealing with mind magic isn’t as simple as that. Most people aren’t too happy about me using my magic on them. Especially not to alleviate the fizzle of magic consuming me.”

That makes sense. I haven’t really considered it like that before. Since I have access to all the magic blessed upon the fae, I can exert it in any way and the fizzle she’s talking about dissolves. Mainly because the royal blood that runs through my body is a stronger power than others, so if we use that magic, it generally eases everything. My chest tightens at the reminder that I can’t access my mind magic at all right now, but I opt to answer as though that’s not the case.

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