Page 21 of Joined By Magic

So simple and clever. What we punished in Atar, the Alarians had found a way around. A method that solved the problem of a baby needing two magical parents to develop powers. Again, my ignorance of the world hit me low in the gut. I knew nothing about anything. What else was there outside of Atar’s small confining society? If I returned to the palace, to my role, I’d never see any of it.

I could run.

The thought stopped my breath. Did I want to? I couldn’t imagine a life without the prince’s intense presence in it. A deep ache hollowed out my chest at the prospect of abandoning him. There were moments when what we had felt perfect. But in the next breath, he’d remind me of my place with a cutting comment or a slap. I belonged beneath him. A treasured possession, but still a possession.

I shook off the notion. I must be sensible. And anyway, my sister needed me, and the only way back to her was with the prince.

Matilda wrapped the crop in tissue paper and handed it to me in a brown paper bag. “It’s hard being new in town. A few of us girls meet for drinks in the pub every Thursday, after the mid-shift lets out in the mine. The food isn’t bad. You should come along. It’s not all oldies like me, there’s some young ones too.” She winked. “The nightlife here’s nothing compared to Rydal, but we have fun.”

“Sounds good.” It did. I lived a life surrounded by women, and I missed the laughter and gossip. Would the prince let me go? To play the role of fitting in with the locals and not arouse suspicion?

Maybe.

“Thanks for your help.” I waved goodbye to Matilda and hurried from the shop.

Chapter Ten

Talia

Thetripdownthemountain thrilled me as much as the ride up. My stomach leapt toward my throat, and a laugh burst out as the chair plummeted down. The young attendant smiled at my expression as he helped me from the seat. “Fun trip?”

“Yes.” I returned the smile absently, my thoughts consumed by the prince. What mood would I find him in, and would he be impressed with my progress? He was a wild card at the moment, emotions much closer to the surface than usual. It had me unsettled. I waved at the attendant and set off toward the tree line.

Short green needles carpeted the ground, and the strange, sharp scent of the trees filled my nose. I glanced around, nervous. Were there snakes here? Or worse, those huge, lumbering black things I’d seen pictures of. Bears?

A crunch sounded behind me, and I spun, chest constricting. I drew in a relieved breath when I saw the prince, his coat pulled tight and expression grim. “You’re late,” he snapped, voice clipped. “I said two hours.”

Relief gave way to irritation. “I had a lot to buy, and it was a long walk to get this.” I brandished the package containing the crop. “But it was worth it. The riding-shop-owner’s husband and son should be able to fix the house.”

He gave a single sharp nod. “Good.” He took the package, created a small ball of light, and stripped the paper away. He slid the crop free and took his time examining it, turning it around for inspection and gripping the handle. The swish it made as he swiped it through the air had my stomach clenching in a mix of fear and excitement.

He returned his attention to me, his bad mood seemingly gone. “You chose well. I don’t think I’ve used one of these on you before, have I? It’s very versatile. I’m going to enjoy it. You might too, if I allow it.” He raised his hand to my face and traced the tips of his fingers along my cheekbone, spots of heat against the chill. Then he gripped my shoulder, and the world faded to black.

We appeared facing the house, which looked even more derelict in the fading light. A stack of boxes awaited us. Once my stomach settled, I rushed forward to check them, and everything I’d bought was there. So handy. I grabbed the food box and struggled with the weight until the prince relieved me of it, lifting it with ease. Impressed, I watched him stride inside. He used his magic and authority to get things done so often, it was easy to forget his physical strength. I chose a lighter box and followed him inside.

We’d selected the driest room to make habitable until full repairs could be completed. I cleaned while the prince unpacked the boxes and arranged everything in his usual meticulous manner. I kept stopping to stare. The prince doing normal domestic jobs looked wrong. A weird unreality settled over me, like I’d blinked and woken up in an alternate universe where we were ordinary people.

He arranged cushions and pillows on top of a thin camping mattress on the floor to create a makeshift bed and folded the corners of the sheets under the mattress with military precision.

“Where did you learn to do that, Your Highness?” I gestured to the bed. “Haven’t you always had servants to do that sort of thing?”

He raised his head from his task. “I went on schoolhouse camps often as a boy. My father took every opportunity to get me out of the palace. Our instructors weren’t forgiving, even to the sons of nobles and kings.”

Amusement shadowed his features. “They’d toss an improperly made bed out of the tent, and we’d spend hours cleaning and washing it again, or suffer the night tortured by sand. It was supposed to be character building for the sons of the elite. If I ever have a son, I plan to spare him the experience.”

The prince returned to his stack of boxes, and my gaze slid to the contraceptive implant in my arm. If he had a son, it wouldn’t be with me, of course, but with a noble wife handpicked for her magical strength. Where would that leave me?

A surge of curiosity chased away my melancholy as a memory struck. “That reminds me. The lady who owns the riding shop told me she’s a mage, but her husband isn’t. They have a son who has powers. They used donor sperm to conceive him. I’ve never heard of anything like it. Is it common here?”

The prince snorted. “They’ve encouraged it in Alaria for years. The government offers initiatives for mixed couples to use donated genetic material from mages. A strange practice. What sort of man would be content raising another man’s child? It’s popular here though. Incredible what people will accept.”

“It’s clever, though, don’t you think?” My rebellious mood was upon me again, an urge to push my luck. To argue. “And I haven’t seen a slum here. The whole town looked rich.”

The prince set down his box and focused on me, frowning. His voice was scornful. “You’ve been in Alaria for two days and you’re convinced it’s the answer to everything? They’ve got their own problems.”

I breathed out my frustration. His dismissive reply came as no surprise, but my inability to counter the point, my ignorance, rankled. I’d have to remedy it now we lived in a place where information flowed freely.

We worked in a not quite companionable silence until the room resembled a comfortable space, clean and somewhat furnished—food and clothing neatly stacked using the packing boxes, cushions to use as seats, and the makeshift bed. A small electric fire provided enough warmth to ease the chill. It would do.

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