Page 58 of The Reign of Blood

“I’d be a real pain in your ass if you let me.”

“You did not just say that,” she says with a snicker, waving me off, and I shrug.

“I did.”

She shakes her head at me, glancing away, and I’m certain there’s the slightest tinge of pink to her cheeks, but it disappears too quickly for me to be sure.

“I want to make a glass vase.”

My eyebrows pinch in confusion. “Wait; you want sand to make a glass vase? For what?” She seems to be one-thousand percent hitting me with surprises today.

“What goes in a vase, Brody?” She gives me a well-deserved pointed look, and I roll my eyes back at her.

“Flowers, obviously, but I’m intrigued by the flowers that may need a vase. The questions I have are endless.”

Like, where the fuck is she getting flowers from? Are they from someone specifically, or is she gathering them herself?

“Can you help me or not?” she asks, cocking her brow at me, and I nod.

“Of course.” Sauntering over to the cabinet to my left, I crouch down to look through the small drawers. I know it’s in here somewhere, but knowing exactlywhereis a different thing entirely.

In the fourth drawer, the familiar grains of sand in a glass jar come into view.

“Is this enough?” I lift it up for her to see, watching as excitement dances in her eyes,

“It’s perfect.”

Standing, I offer her the jar, and she snatches it out of my hands, cradling it like a baby.

“So, are you going to make it yourself?” I ask, not wanting the moment to end yet.

“I hope so,” she murmurs, eyes still transfixed on the jar in her grasp, but the glazing over her eyes makes me frown.

“You hope so?” She’s a royal. She should be able to use whatever magic she pleases.

“Kiss of amethyst, remember?”

Her eyes meet mine, her pain evident before she swiftly blinks it away.

“You’ve got this. One hundred percent,” I insist, stepping closer to squeeze her arm in comfort. She offers me a soft smile, like my words of encouragement aren’t quite enough to fill her with positivity. “Can I watch?”

It’s her turn to frown. “Watch?”

“Yeah, like, watch you make the vase.” Why the fuck do I sound nervous?

“Why?”

Clearing my throat, I move my hand from her arm to rub at the back of my neck. “Magic fascinates me,” I admit, and it’s true, it does, but not as much as she does. That’s the secret factor here.

Her lips purse as she thinks, and it takes everything in me to keep my mouth shut while she comes to a decision.

“Where?” she finally asks, and I can’t contain the grin on my face.

“Here’s fine,” I insist, pointing to the center of the room. “Do you want a table or anything?”

She frowns at the center of the floor where I’m pointing to before looking at me with real uncertainty dancing in her orbs. “But what if my magic?—”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m a mage, remember? I can combat any issues we might have,” I insist, not really sure if that’s where she was going with her worry, but when she nods, I hope I’ve hit the nail on the head.

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