Page 36 of A Reign of Roses
Briar was bundled in the corner in a dark silk robe, dewy from bathing, her hair still dripping on the hardwood floors. As Mari read in comfortable silence, Briar’s long back dipped to scan one of the many shelves crammed with grimoires.
“Welcome, Prince Ravenwood.” Briar spoke without turning, her voice like a razor coated in honey. “How nice to see you’ve made it back to Onyx Kingdom in one piece.”
I gritted my teeth, leaning against the doorway. So she was in a mood. “Evening.”
Mari gasped, though she remained on the bed. “Kane?”
She didn’t appear glad to see me. Startled, perhaps, but not glad. Griffin hadn’t been lying when he’d said Mari blamed us for Arwen’s death. Strangely, though, I’d missed the witch more than I’d expectedto. Somehow we’d actually become friends. And because of that, I knew better than to ask how her tutelage was going.
“Briar,” I managed. “As usual, I need your help.”
Briar only continued to scan those shelves for something that eluded her. “Mari can help you.”
“I can’t actually,” Mari said to Briar pointedly. “Not without an amulet that a certain sophisticated yet very disorganized witch refuses to make for me.”
“Not with that attitude,” the sorceress lilted.
I pushed from the doorframe and strolled into the room, stopping at the foot of the bed before the unlit hearth, also packed with parchment and leather.
“Well, one of you needs to try.” I studied Mari, her legs kicking lazily behind her as she returned to her book. “Mari, I am your king.”
Mari looked up, pinning her punishing gaze on me. “You are my dead friend’s lover,” she said. “Possibly her murderer, depending on one’s perspective.”
Briar turned at that, violet eyes flaring.“Mari.”
I bit my cheek, an axe lodged in my heart. “That’s cruel.”
Mari’s eyes burned hot on mine. “It’s true.”
When I said nothing—the word “murderer” hacking into my mind repeatedly—Mari added, “And even if it weren’t, I can’t help you anyway. I haven’t done any real magic since Peridot.”
Briar scoffed, sitting down on the bed beside Mari. A familiar, comfortable gesture.
“If I’m so unhelpful, why are you reading the grimoire I gifted you? And for the third time by my count.”
The nearly fossilized pentagrams on the cover told me Mari wasnot flipping through any common spell book. The one in her hands was a relic of some sort.
Mari looked up from the pages to glare at her mentor. “Because I’m bored. The better question is why you think anyone has need for this cloaking spell. Invisibility: the most useless of magic for the most useless of witches.” She turned another page, eyes finding mine. “I don’t know why I’m still here.”
“Griffin told me you were feeling as much.”
At my commander’s name, Mari’s legs ceased their rhythmic, leisurely kicks behind her. “I might feel better if I had anotheramulet.”
“Don’t whine, little witch.”
“Mari,” I tried again.
Like a child, she flipped another page of the book.
I reached out and snatched it from her hands.
“Hey!”
“Be careful with that,” Briar snipped.
“I need one of you two to open a portal to Lumera for me.”
Mari’s russet eyes lifted to mine under long, morose lashes, and she righted herself into a sitting position. “Why? Where are you going?”
