Page 79 of Joined By Magic

“Keep telling yourself that. You round up poor girls, lock them into a contract, and think that gives you the right to abuse them. They’re never willing. None of them. You sick bastards are so pathetic you have to force women to fuck you. It’s everything that’s wrong with this fucked-up territory.”

I held my breath as Garron managed to lift his head and look the prince in the eye. “Do it.”

Again, I waited, but the deadly flash never came. I didn’t want it to. Even after all he’d done, it didn’t feel right. He’d done what he had out of love, as unbelievable as it might seem. He’d loved Elle enough to risk everything for her—to kill for her—as the prince had for me.

He looked away from Garron and met my gaze. He scanned my face, then focused on Garron again. What was he thinking? I flinched as his hand moved, but instead of shooting magic, he pulled a black device from a pocket in his robes. His new weapon. He leveled it at Garron.

“I’m stripping you of your power. You’ll remain imprisoned for ten years, after which I’ll banish you from Atar to live out your remaining days as a non-mage.”

Garron’s jaw fell slack. “But—”

The prince fired. Nothing seemed to happen, but Garron clutched his chest and fell back onto the bed. His breath came in harsh gasps. The prince stared at the crumpled figure for a long moment, then swept from the room as I followed in his wake.

Once we cleared the guards and reached a quiet corridor, I gripped the prince’s arm and pulled him to a stop. He frowned down at me. “What?”

“That was kind of you.”

The prince’s frown deepened. “It’s a risk. I should have ended him. But he was already so broken, it felt . . .” He shook his head. “I don’t have time for this. I need to speak with your mother again.”

A short while later, we convened in a small, cheerful room that seemed at odds with the dire situation. Sunlight streamed in, and the air smelled of flowers. A large platter of food sat in the center of the table—a mix of fruit, bread, and various strong-smelling pastes. The prince left to deal with a call, leaving Mum and me alone.

She was still dressed in her crumpled Dexian clothing, her face pale, eyes red. “Have you been crying?”

Mum looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry. I know the Dexians so well, it’s hard to think of them in prison. Liv especially. She’s a sweet thing. And Andrew, Leo’s father. He’s gentle and kind.” She glanced nervously toward the door and lowered her voice. “Is there a chance he’ll be merciful?”

Jealousy crawled under my skin. All these people she’d come to care for, while I mourned her death. I considered the question but had no answer. This morning I’d have said there was no chance, but after what I’d just seen, I didn’t know anymore. “He’ll do what he wants.”

Mum sighed and twisted her fingers together on the table. I shook off my prickly mood. I had her back now, and I mustn’t waste the gift. Jumping up from my seat, I wrapped her in a hug.

“I missed you.”

She hugged me, fierce and tight. When she looked up at me, her cheeks were already wet. “I missed you too.”

“I know you’re worried. If I can persuade him to go easy on the foreigners, I will. I can’t promise anything.”

“I know you can’t.” Her face split into a radiant smile. “I’m so glad you’re okay. And things haven’t been too bad for you? With”—she stumbled over the words—“with His Highness?”

“No. Not bad at all. I mean, he has his moments . . .” That’s putting it mildly. “But I care about him.”

Her face creased, incredulity in every line. Was it so difficult for her to believe?

The prince returned and took a seat. Mum jumped up and bowed. I sighed. The formality was getting to me already. It all felt so overdone and pointless. The prince waved her to sit. “I need to know everything about my brother. Leave nothing out.”

A long exchange followed, Mum talking and the prince firing off questions. It painted the picture of an interesting man. Arrogant, prepared to use his power to take what he wanted, but always in the name of what he believed was right. And just as she had been yesterday, Mum was absolutely certain he never wanted to rule Atar.

The words fell thick and heavy over the room as the prince dug in more, trying to find inconsistencies. If it was true, then everything we’d been through needn’t have happened. The prince could have killed his father and taken over the throne, with his brother as a powerful ally overseas. No exile, no running for our lives.

No taste of freedom. No growing understanding of what the world outside had to offer.

I couldn’t wish it away.

The interview ground to a halt, and the prince dismissed my mum. She hugged me before she left. It felt so good I almost cried. Now the shock was wearing off, having Mum back was starting to feel like the precious thing it was. I wanted to spend days curled up with her, just talking.

The door closed, and I returned to the prince, who sat deep in thought. Sitting beside him, I asked the question that’d been niggling at me. “Does it really matter now what your brother’s motivations were? He’s no threat, and he can’t help against your father. Isn’t the king the bigger worry?”

The prince stared at me, confused, before his face cleared. “Of course. I never mentioned it. I never create something that could be used against me without putting in a fail-safe. If what your mother says is true, I might not need to face my father’s army with only a small group of men. I can give my brother his power back.”

Chapter Thirty-Nine

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