Page 20 of A Storm in Every Heart
I’m not being self-deprecating the way Daemon is, and I’m not delusional. I know that if things had turned out differently, and I’d become the king after my father died, I would have made it work, but I also know that I’m not suited for the job. It’s not just that I won’t delegate; Ican’t. My self-control—control in general—is too important to me.
I wouldn’t be a leader; I’d be a dictator. A well-intentioned one, but still.
“I don’t want to go back to Hydratta alone,” I say when I’m sure my voice will come out even. “I’d much rather stay here and be an emissary for Vernallis.”
“Unfortunately, that’s just about the only job I can’t ask you to do,” Daemon says. “I need a diplomat so badly I’m tempted to let you do it, anyway. If it were anywhere else, I would, but it would just be stupid to send you to Hydratta.”
“I know.” I knock his nearly empty glass with mine again. “Why haven’t you asked Odessa to be your emissary?”
He sighs. “Because I don’t know if it’s fair of me to ask her to do anything. She’s my family, but she never signed up for any of this—running a country, that is. You and Fox and Jett are different?—”
I nod. We’re different because we bonded in prison, and none of the four of us would be here without the others. Daemon knows that even if he told us all to abandon him, we neverwould. I don’t think Odessa would leave Daemon and Alix either, but I see why he’s worried about demanding too much of her.
Privately, I hope Daemon doesn’t ask Odessa to be an emissary. Not because she wouldn’t be good at it, but because that would mean she’d have to travel to other kingdoms nearly as often as Jett.
Daemon and I fall into companionable silence for a few minutes. Madam Magdalena returns with steaming plates of roast meat and vegetables for both of us and puts them down on the counter.
“Another round?” Daemon asks, looking sideways at me.
I start to answer but never get the words out. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a familiar tall, thin male. My back goes straight, and I turn slowly to look.
Yes, that’s definitely him. That’s the shopkeeper I saw Odessa bewitch earlier. That was the most amazing and terrifying damn thing I’ve ever seen.
When I first walked in and saw her leaning over the counter, I barely even registered that anyone else was in the room. Immediately, my mind flew to all the things I could do to her over that counter, and I was about to break my vow to myself and say something about it when I realized we weren’t alone.
For a split second I saw red, thinking that she was flirting with this random shopkeeper, but then I got a look at his unfocused eyes. What was it she said? He was weak-willed?
“Did you know that Odessa has magic?” I blurt out.
Daemon startles and gestures to Madam Magdalena to bring us another round before turning to me with a furrowed brow. “No, she doesn’t.”
I frown. That doesn’t make any sense.
All Fae can use magic, but how useful it is comes down to training and luck. While natural talent exists—Aurelia being agood example—access to good tutors is the best predictor of how powerful a child will grow up to be.
Both being born into noble houses, Daemon and I were each trained since early childhood, but we’re the outliers.
From what little Fox has said about it, he had some early magic instruction before being sent off to apprentice with the army. Being an orphan, Jett wasn’t trained at all, so any powers he has are purely instinctual. Perhaps that’s also what happened with Odessa? I don’t know much about her life before she went to live with Daemon and Beatrix, and I’m not sure I can get away with asking about it without inviting too many questions.
“Didn’t Odessa train with you as children?” I ask, trying to sound casual.
He shakes his head. “She didn’t come to live at the estate until she was eight, and you know that’s too old to start training.”
“But she has magic…right?”
Daemon’s mouth twists into an amused smirk. “Why do you want to know?”
“Earlier I saw her do…something…to that man over there.”
He glances over his shoulder, and when he turns back his posture has relaxed. “Oh,that. She turned him into a puppet, yeah?”
My brow furrows. “So you do know about it.”
To my surprise, he laughs. “Yeah, but that’s not Fae magic. It’s not really magic at all. It’s the siren song.”
“What?”
“You know, the siren song. You must have heard it in Dyaspora. It’s how they would get men to walk out of their beds and into the freezing fucking ocean.”
