Page 30 of Blooms of Darkness

Ian strode toward me as my head hung in defeat. Neither of my friends spoke, but the longer silence grew, the more fury raged inside of me. My body shook, trembling at the unfairness of everything, my breath coming harder and faster than I could manage.

I’d be bartered away through a trial, as though my life were unworthy of choosing who I spent it with, forcing me to choose between men I did not know nor care for.

Bartered away to a stranger who would put more restrictions on me than Ian already did. Depending on his character, my being magicless could be a prison sentence. I would be hidden away from embarrassment alone.

This new “King” could mean losing what little I had left of my own voice.

Ian stood in front of me, placing a hand on my shoulder. He said nothing, but the manner in which he purposefully slowed his breathing, as he’d done beside me so many times before, had me matching his breaths to regain control. As always, his gentle aid, even when I didn’t ask for it, helped.

“What’s going on in that head of yours? Talk to us.” The gentleness of his tone allowed me to take another deep breath and pause, forgetting the words still needing to be exchanged from our earlier fight.

I slowly lifted my head, meeting his worried gaze before shifting to Kalliah, who held the same expression.

Although out of my control, I didn’t want to explain this to them. To admit what lay ahead of us. I’d be peddled as a prize for some egotistical prick in a competition.

Depending upon who won, the man serving as the new king could change everything. Kalliah, born with limited magic and a lesser Fae, could be deemed unworthy to interact with Fae royalty at all, and certainly not to the status she was now.

And Ian.Ian, who had grown up alongside me. Ian, who held me if my nightmares were too much. Our relationship would be forever changed after this.

No husband would allow a Royal Guard into his wife’s bed chambers with or without their presence. No King would allow their wife, their Queen, to go off to the training grounds to practice swordplay and archery with guards, staff, and a lesser Fae.

And then the worst of it dawned on me.

No husband would allow their wife to sneak off into the night and be the Hidden Henchman. Would whomever became King demand I stand to the side? Kept naïve of the darkness troubling our lands, as my father hid from me.

Even knowing my father wouldn’t allow me to be the Hidden Henchman should he ever discover it was me either, I could keep it secret from him. How would I keep my comings and goings from a husband if he didn’t approve of making the changes I desired? My ability to enact such changes could be stifled by a man who didn’t believe in ruling the kingdom the wayIwished to.

What would happen to the villagers in need if I could not keep providing aid? Would they starve? If I could not provide medical supplies, would someone die? More than one death had already bloodied my hands, and I did not wish to add more.

I stared at Ian’s face, his brows furrowed, clearly attempting to discern what could be so troublesome. “My father requested a meeting this morning about my future.”

“Let me guess—the prophecy,again?” he questioned.

I sighed. “Worse.”

“Worse? What could be worse than that ridiculous prophecy Vivienne prattled off eons ago?” Ian stepped back a few paces, flourishing his hands by his temple as though he could see the future, as he always did when mocking Vivienne.

Normally, this would make me laugh, but my face remained neutral, and I mustered all the strength I had left in me. “The king has enacted the marriage trials.”

“The marriage trials?” Kalliah gasped. “Why? How? They’re practically legend.”

Ian ran his hands through his sweat-leaden hair, tousling the slight waves out of place. “There haven’t been marriage trials in, what, half a millennium?”

I nodded in confirmation. “They believe the prophecy references holding the marriage trials.”

“Well, it’s fucking stupid,” Ian said.

“Tell me something I don’t already know.” I wiped the sweat from my forehead.

“When?” Kalliah asked in a hushed tone. Her hands still hung by her side, the sword dangling from her fingertips.

I wondered briefly if either of them was making the connections I had earlier. A new King could mean all new rules, and we’d be expected to be separated even further.

Ian stared, just like Kalliah did, awaiting my response as hurt crept into his eyes.

“One week,” I said, choking on fresh tears. Air, I needed air. I gasped again, clutching at my chest as the all-too-familiar tightening spread, zinging down my arms.

Ian quickly wrapped me in an embrace as my knees buckled and I fell to the ground. He held me tight and ran his hands through my half-braided hair, not caring about the sweat clinging to me from our training session, or if we were out in the open. Anyone could see the embrace. Anyone could devise a new round of rumors to circulate.

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