Page 113 of The Throne's Undoing

Myra shook her head and interrupted Laurince, saying, "I only need a few seconds."

Laurince narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"It is easier if I show you." She bit her lip.

Myra held out her hand, and Laurince stared at it with distrust.

"You came here for a reason, Laurince," Myra whispered. "Do you trust me?"

"I don't trust anyone anymore."

"Good. You shouldn't," Myra said with a slight smile that didn't reach her eyes. "But if you seek reassurance, this is the only way I can give it to you."

Laurince snorted. "Holding your hand isn't going to magically make me believe you."

"Actually, it might," Myra said, her words a heavy weight between them.

She could sense Laurince's apprehension thicken, and she wiggled her fingers because although Myra did not need to touch someone to transform their emotions, it was easier to do so if she did. And perhaps it would be easier for Laurince to understand.

She added, "I have learned that having too many secrets only makes matters worse in the end, even if the intent in keeping them is to protect the other person."

"What do you mean?" Laurince asked, brows furrowed.

Instead of answering with her words, however, Myra grabbed Laurince's hand. The confusion that once covered Laurince's countenance vanished and was replaced with pure bliss. A smile spread across his face, splitting it into two. His eyes crinkled.

Then, in a flash, Myra snatched her hand from his and cut the connection.

Laurince blinked. When her gift slipped from him, he backed up slightly, shaking his head. "What did you--what did you do?" he stammered.

Myra took a deep breath and said, "There are people in this world who can do things that are not normal."

Laurince stared at her in disbelief. "How? Why? I--I don't understand what just happened." He peered down at his hand before looking back up at her. "Are you...are you a goddess?"

Laurince's fingers twitched over his short sword. When he saw where Myra's attention had gone, he removed his hand immediately.

"I didn't mean--" He brushed a hand through his hair. "I--I'm sorry."

Myra nodded. "I do not blame you for being wary. The unknown is a dangerous place to exist. It is why people like me usually keep their abilities a secret."

His eyes widened. "People? There are more people who can--who can do whatever it is you did to my emotions?" he exclaimed.

"Yes and no," Myra said, weighing her words. "I have only encountered a handful of people who bore them, but all abilities differ. My mother was gifted in embroidery."

His forehead creased. "That is...a gift?"

"The way she embroidered? It most certainly was," Myra said, her tone lighter than it had been in weeks as she thought of her mother embroidering in the garden.

However, the moment of reprieve was brief, as Myra recalled the last night in her childhood home, when spools of thread were thrown onto the ground and pieces of embroidery were slashed through with a blade as the king's guards ransacked the house.

Myra cleared her throat. "You asked for reassurance. I have given you that. If my brother wishes to run to the king, I can force him not to by changing his emotions."

"And you are sure that will work?" he pressed.

Myra nodded. "It has worked in the past."

She could see the question rise to his face before he even spoke it.

"Who?" Laurince asked, the single syllable wrapping around her and threatening to strangle her.

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