Page 92 of Joined By Magic

The tears which I hadn’t let myself cry finally came. They spilled down my cheeks, and I tasted salt as my chest heaved in a sob. As carefully as if I were made of glass, the prince leaned down and wrapped his arms around me. I clung to him and cried against his shoulder. The soft fabric of his tunic grew damp with tears as I got myself under control. The utter strangeness of the situation began to intrude. He wasn’t Prince Adante anymore. He was the king. I took a series of deep, calming breaths. Seeming to sense the change in me, he let me go. A lingering sadness remained on his features as he helped me to sit.

“We haven’t held the farewell rite yet. I met with your uncle. He and your sister opted to wait.”

“You saw my uncle?” Again, the absurdity of it hit me. He was the king, and he’d been chatting with my uncle?

“Yes. I wanted to deliver the news myself.” He paused. “Your bravery has made you quite famous.”

“What?” Was I awake, or was this just a dream, teasing my mind while my body lay trapped in eternal sleep?

“If you hadn’t attacked my father when you did, Leopold and I would both be dead. He sends his thanks, by the way.” A sardonic smile touched his lips. “If you want to visit Dexia, he’ll afford you every luxury. He’s back in charge over there now. I wouldn’t bother, though. It really is a depressing backwater.”

Too much information for an exhausted mind to take in. I couldn’t decide which question was most urgent, so I stayed silent, brain whirling. I reached out for my water with a hand that still shook. The prince noticed and helped me bring it to my lips.

Not the prince. The king. King Adante.

“Speaking of travel, have you given any thought to your plans?” His voice was casual, but I caught the edge of something underneath. What was he talking about?

“Plans?” I felt stupid and slow, my mind not working with its usual sharp efficiency.

“Yes. You wanted to see the world.”

A new sadness crept in. Of course. Our deal. Now we were back in the palace, our time together was up unless I stayed on as his Favorite. I tested the possibility and found it still lacking. No. After tasting freedom, I couldn’t lock myself back into Ataran society, forever a second-class citizen.

“Somewhere cold,” I blurted. “Really cold. I want to see snow and get icicles on my eyelashes.” It sounded ridiculous, but my heart leapt toward it. Freedom and fun.

A true smile appeared on his lips, warm and indulgent. “I guessed as much. There’s a hotel on the northernmost edge of Alaria carved entirely from ice. That will do.” He paused and seemed almost to brace himself before continuing. “It’ll be a few weeks before the healers clear you for travel, I expect. Long enough for me to free up some time in my schedule.”

What? I replayed the sentence and found no room for misinterpretation. “You want to come with me?”

“Yes.”

He fell silent again. The moment stretched toward awkwardness as he sat, stony-faced, gazing off into the distance. At last, with a heavy sigh, he spoke again.

“The answer to the problem lies in biotech. Alaria has several top-flight research companies working on the solution, but I’m confident I’ll beat them to it. I’ve already headhunted one of their leading experts.”

“You’ve already—” I took a deep breath. “What problem?”

“Bloodlines.” He looked away, toward the door. “It’s not a simple process, but I believe I can do it.”

A slight twist in my stomach. The very beginning of a suspicion formed, but I forced it down. Don’t be stupid. “What are you talking about?”

As if it cost him great effort, he focused on me. “When I thought you were dead—” He broke off. That twist again. A slow unfurling of warmth.

“When I thought you wouldn’t recover, I wanted to die myself. The crown meant nothing. It was just another job, a task I had to do. I’ve been going through the motions since the battle, preparing to rule, but I’ve spent every spare moment here . . . hoping you’d wake up.”

Shock loosened my limbs, and I sagged, leaning back into the pillows. The image stood out bright and clear. Me, unconscious in the bed, and him, sitting patiently beside it. Was it possible?

“I can’t let you leave.”

Five quietly spoken words, but they echoed like thunder. I’d been sure, so sure, that he’d keep his word. “But you promised—”

“I know what I promised!” His sudden passion singed me with its intensity. “But I can’t. I want you.”

“Well, I want lots of things too.” Anger rose, and I didn’t bother to fight it. “Freedom and respect. I don’t want to be a possession again.”

“I don’t want you to be a fucking possession.” He stared up at the ceiling, lips pressed together.

“Then what? What are you saying? You’ve done nothing but speak in riddles since you got here.” Exhaustion had loosened my tongue. He could execute me for it if he felt like it, but he wouldn’t. I could be sure of that, at least.

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