Page 179 of Glow of the Everflame

I knew from the distress written on her face that I didn’t have to finish. The idea of not being there for her beloved brother when he needed her most—if there was anything that might change Lily’s mind, it was that.

“I will never condemn you for anything you freely choose, Lily. I only ask that you give yourself time to discover who you’re meant to be. One month ago, I was a poor, unknown mortal healer, and now I am Queen. And perhaps next month...” I gave her a sad smile. “No one can predict what the gods have in store.”

Lily looked down at her hands, chewing on her lip in silence.

“Wait just a little longer, that’s all I ask,” I urged. “For Luther, if not for yourself.”

Silence stretched out between us. I set my palm on her hand in a wordless show of support before moving to return to my work.

“You still care about him?” she asked softly.

I halted in place and winced. “Lily...”

“He’s in a dark place, too, you know. Just like you. He’s devastated. I’ve never seen him so sad. He feels like he let you down, and if he letsyoudown then he’s lettingeveryonedown, because he thinks you—”

“Lily, please, this is between me and Luther.”

“You’re so much more alike than you realize. If you only knew, if he would only—”

“Lily.” I slumped into my chair, then snatched another of my mother’s journals and loudly flipped it open. “Back to work.”

“Do you hate him?”

My face whipped toward hers. Her midnight blue eyes were round and glittering with unshed tears.

“No,” I whispered. “I don’t.”

“Has he lost you forever?”

This time, I didn’t answer.

* * *

With Alixe gluedto my brother’s side and Luther having vanished without explanation, my magic training was now—gods help me—solely in Taran’s hands.

Though weeks with no progress had left us both cranky, he had refused my begging to call off our session, so we’d compromised on sparring the mortal way—with fists and swords. It would do me no good at the Challenging, but it had become my one outlet for the grim, rotting emotions poisoning me from the inside out.

Unlike Alixe and Luther, who always softened their attacks for fear of injuring their Queen, Taran never held back, and I loved him for it. I threw my bottled-up rage and self-destruction into every swing, and he returned each one with equal force. It left both of us bruised, limping, and exhausted, but little by little, I felt the darkness beginning to give way.

“Fine, I admit it, you are a good fighter,” Taran said with a grunt after I’d clocked him across the chin. “Good thing, since you’re so shit at using magic.”

He lunged to clip me with his sword, barely missing as I spun out of reach. “You’re a good opponent,” I said. “Good thing, since you’re so shit at teaching magic.”

He feinted to the left and barked a laugh as I swerved to miss the non-existent attack, then caught me with the point of his blade right in the soft hollow of my back.

I whimpered and clutched the tender spot. “Fine. I deserved that.”

He pointed the sword accusingly. “Don’t blame my teaching for you holding back on your magic.”

“We’ve been through this,” I groaned. “I’m not holding back. I’ve tried everything, Taran. I don’t know why it won’t answer me.”

“I do.”

I arched an eyebrow. He leaned on his blade like a cane, looking smug and self-satisfied.

“Are you going to tell me?” I pushed.

“You don’t want to hear it.”

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