Page 53 of Stolen Magic

Callan offered a forced, measured smile. Unlike the ones he’d given me, this one didn’t reach his eyes. He subtly positioned himself between me and the king, a shield from his father’s wrath. “You said yourself I should expand my studies. I have recently taken more interest in celestial navigation.”

The king’s mouth twitched but he said nothing more. With one last piercing look he turned and disappeared down the corridor, the echo of his formidable footsteps lingering long after he’d vanished from sight.

We waited in tense silence until we were sure he was gone, then my knees buckled. Callan caught me before I could fall. “Are you all right?”

I managed a breathless nod. “You’ve rescued me twice now. At this rate you’ll make a habit of it.”

He arched a brow. “Twice?”

He couldn’t have known about the first—where his influence had unknowingly prevented me from going down the path of murder there would be no coming back from. “You save me in more ways than you realize.”

His lips lifted, seeming pleased. “It is an honor to help my fiancée. Should I not?”

I didn’t know how to answer, gratitude warring with feeling unworthy. Instead I asked a different question. “How did you know I was in trouble?”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure. I just sensed that you needed me, andsomethingI can’t explain guided me to you.”

It almost sounded as if he’d followed an invisible trail of magic—like before in the library, where he’d sensed the spell lingering on the shelves. What I didn’t understand was why the magic in Eldoria had led him to me. Could it be that Eldoria’s magic, despite its bondage to the crown, still carried fragments of loyalty to me and my bloodline?

Callan was still watching me, eyes soft with concern. “Come, we should go to the balcony, just in case my father decides to check if I followed through on my excuse.”

I followed him to the nearby balcony into the chill of night. Stars were just beginning to fade—delicate silver against the lightening velvety-purple sky as the first rays of sunrise caressed the distant horizon in rosy gold.

We leaned against the railing, the silence that settled between us less strained than I expected despite my anticipation. I expected him to question what I’d been doingoutside the court mage’s chamber. His restraint in withholding interrogation should have eased my nerves, but the longer he said nothing, the more my anxiety grew.

Because silence could mean trust, and trust was far more lethal than suspicion.

“I don’t understand,” I said when I could no longer bear the agonizing silence. “Why do you keep helping me? You’ve caught me in compromising situations more than once. You have every reason not to trust me.”

He was quiet for a long, thoughtful moment. “Because despite the walls you hide behind, I’ve seen the care you’re capable of. I choose to believe there’s a good person beneath the secrets, even if you don’t believe it yourself.”

Throat tightening, I turned away, afraid of what he might see in my expression. His faith hurt more than his suspicion ever could. Silence once more settled around us, full of questions and unspoken truths I couldn’t yet voice. But Callan didn’t press, remaining a steady presence beside me, as if he understood that my words would come in their own time.

Together we watched the horizon melt from silver into soft rose as one by one the stars vanished behind the soft blush of morning, until only the brightest star lingered—a stubborn glimmer that refused to let go…like me.

I found myself wanting to confess, not quite understanding why I needed to respond to his unspoken invitation that only my heart seemed to hear. I turned towards him, our eyes meeting in the hush before sunrise. He shifted towards me, open and attentive, patiently waiting for me to let him in.

My hands shook as I gripped the railing. “I almost did something terrible,” I whispered.

There was a pause. “But you didn’t,” he said with quiet certainty.

“No,” I said hoarsely. “But Iwantedto.”

The silence deepened, but not with judgment. When I dared glance at him, I expected disappointment or distance. Instead, he looked at me as if I was something fragile he wanted nothing more than to protect. My vision blurred, this time not from rage, but from his unbearable tenderness.

“I don’t know who I’m becoming,” I admitted. “Everything feels so twisted inside me, like I’m always one wrong step away from turning into someone I don’t want to be.”

“That doesn’t make you weak,” he said gently. “It makes youhuman. I used to think strength meant being certain of who you are, but now I wonder if it’s more about choosing to become someone better, even when it’s hard.”

I looked up at him, startled by the vulnerability threading his words. “Is that why you stand up to the king?” I asked softly.

He hesitated, then gave a quiet nod. “I don’t want to become the man he’s trying to shape me into.” His gaze held mine. “Nor do you have to be the person whatever your fears you harbor want for you. Whatever it is you’re carrying, you don’t have to carry it alone.”

That simple sentence wrapped around all the parts inside of me that felt raw and broken. I desperately wanted to return his sentiment, but I didn’t think I could speak without unraveling.

When his hand reached out to rest beside where mine rested on the railing, I let myself inch closer. His hand brushed against mine, just a touch, an assurance that he was there and wasn’t going anywhere.

This simple contact was enough to send a tremor up my arm, warming something long-frozen. Against all odds he was here. In his presence, I no longer felt like I was falling. I felt seen—still fractured, but held.

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