Page 67 of Joined By Magic

He lifted me as if I weighed nothing and carried me to the shower. The warm water cascaded over us, heightening my sense of peace. I lifted my arms and turned in a circle, relishing the small luxury. Once clean, Leo switched the water off and wrapped me in a thick towel. My eyes grew heavy. The bed was soft, warm, and inviting, and I sank into it, curling into Leo as he settled beside me. My body still ached, but it was a welcomed ache, steady and soothing.

Leo kissed my hair. “You’re perfect. I can’t wait to marry you tomorrow. I love you.”

His words brought a smile to my lips in the dark. “I love you too.”

He tightened his arm around me, and I fell into sleep.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Talia

Wemovedfromflophouseto dingy flophouse, always paying over the odds in cash and staying two nights. The rooms blurred into one, a succession of smoke-stained walls, cracked porcelain, and musty sheets. The splendor of the palace would be an improvement on this, at least. Each move brought us closer to the Ataran border, and the weather grew warmer, the insects more plentiful and aggressive.

The prince had our attack plan mapped out. The wedding was happening at the summer palace, and that gave us our opportunity. He was confident he could bring down any anti-teleportation shielding, and the bulk of the army wouldn’t be present. The confusion should give him time to gain a foothold. He tinkered with his tech, went over and over the plan, and seemed to be psyching himself up for battle. If he cared at all about my attempted escape, he didn’t show it. He treated it as a fit of temper, something to punish and move on. He never spoke of it.

I went through the motions of life, and sometimes even convinced myself I was happy, for a while. We played cards, had sex, talked about things in our usual way. It wasn’t terrible. But it felt like a part of me was missing. I’d zone out in the middle of a game or lose focus on a topic of conversation and find myself staring out of the window.

A snap of the prince’s fingers would bring me back to reality, and I’d invent an excuse to step away for a few minutes. I’d let all the fear and hurt inside me bubble up, and I’d stand with my eyes shut, fists clenched, until I calmed down enough to return. Every day that went by was a nail hammered into an iron door. Every move we made closer to home left my head foggier, my steps a bit slower.

Home. Back to the place where I was property and would have to bow to every asshole lord and treat them like they were infinitely better than me. Where I’d work with the women they saw as mindless fuckdolls and try to make their lives a little less shit. It all seemed so cruel, so cheap and unfair compared to the world I’d glimpsed. I was moping, and I knew it but couldn’t seem to stop.

The prince and I checked into our final nondescript hotel, as close to the Ataran border as he dared. The bored desk clerk gave me a quick, lazy once-over as I went through the motions, booking our room with cash and a wink. He handed me a keycard, and we traipsed up the stairs to room twenty-two.

It was flash, by the standard we’d grown used to. Clean and freshly painted with a small balcony, and a vid screen that was younger than me, for once. I flicked it on while the prince fussed with his tech and searched the cupboards. He always checked everywhere for hidden tech when we arrived at a new destination. A newsreel greeted me. A heavily made-up woman smiled at the camera.

“And in tonight’s entertainment news, everyone is talking about tomorrow’s hastily planned royal wedding, to be held at the Ataran summer palace. Of course, the big question is—does the speedy ceremony mean a new prince or princess is on the way? Sources suggest Livet Spencer, Prince Leopold’s scandalous bride to be, shows no visible signs of pregnancy so far, but all eyes will be on her waistline. We’ll be reporting live from the reception, but in the meantime, here’s footage of the unusual couple’s arrival.”

The screen flipped to a video, silent footage of the prince’s brother and his woman materializing in a swirl of blue magic. A welcome delegation dropped into low bows and rushed forward offering refreshments, but he waved them away and turned to his girl. She smiled up at him and pointed at something off camera. His face split in a grin and he spoke into her ear, arm around her waist as though it were the most natural thing in the world. As if he wasn’t upending the laws and traditions of an entire territory to be with the woman he loved.

A pain I’d grown familiar with stabbed at me, right under the ribcage, and I flicked the vid screen off. Growing up, I’d never been stupid enough to daydream about a happily ever after. My thoughts had been occupied with survival and schemes to get out of poverty. If I’d dreamed of anything, it’d been independence. Men were friends, casual lovers, or a means to an end. None of them had interested me enough the thought of a lifetime together seemed in any way appealing.

Not until the prince.

I rolled my eyes at the utter stupidity of it. The only man I’d ever really wanted, and he was cold, cruel, and unavailable as anything but my owner. I wanted him, but I needed to escape him for my sanity. A paradox I couldn’t be bothered to pick at. My mum had always worried I’d fall for the wrong man. What would she think if she saw me now, moping over the disgraced crown prince himself?

I could almost picture the expression on her face, but the edges were soft, the image lacking definition. Time was stealing my memories away. I missed her in that moment, more powerfully than I had in months, and it added to the shroud of sadness that lay over me.

The prince sat down next to me and stared at the blank vid screen for a while before saying, “I found a kataris board. It’ll make a nice change from cards.”

I managed a smile, though the prospect didn’t raise my spirits. I’d found it hard to concentrate on our games lately. I could tell the prince was getting annoyed that he kept defeating me with ease. “Would you like me to set it up now?” I asked.

“Yes.” He narrowed his eyes. “And let’s make it interesting. Every piece I take earns you five stripes with my belt. Every piece you take wins you one orgasm before we sleep tonight.”

A fun game, and on the gentler side for the prince’s wagers. I wished I could feel excited. Wished I could feel anything except the low-level thrum of panic that suffused my system.

I moved to set up the board, but the prince’s hand whipped out, latching onto my wrist. I turned in confusion to see a strange expression on his face—a mix of frustration and something else. It took me a while to register it as sadness. “Wait. Sit.”

I did, settling next to him as he studied me. I fought the urge to fidget under his intense scrutiny. “What is it, Your Highness?”

He broke eye contact, staring down at the floor. I could sense the tension gathered in his body. He swallowed before he spoke. “You’re unhappy.”

A statement, not a question. I blinked, blindsided. My happiness, or otherwise, had never been a concern of his before. I reverted to the safety of a comfortable role. “Of course not, Your Highness, I’m—”

“Stop it.”

The sharp whipcrack of his voice set my nerves jangling. “I’m sorry?”

“Speaking to me like that. Acting like this. You sound like them.”

---