Page 101 of Royal Captive
I blinked, then realized she wasn’t talking to me or anyone other than herself.
“Do we have what we need for a fire?” I asked instead. Eve had grabbed food before we left, but I didn’t recall her taking much else in the way of tools.
“Grab some kindling, and we’ll find out,” she replied gruffly, already picking up a few rocks and making a small stone ring on a flat bit of dirt.
“What is it? What did she say?” Feyanna asked, turning to me with those bright, golden eyes.
“We are camping down here for the night. Help me gather kindling?”
Feyanna ducked her head and dogged my steps as we gathered. She stuck to small sticks and bits of bark, and I picked out a few sturdier branches for when the flames got going.
We circled back around and deposited it all in front of Eve, who sat on the ground with her dirty dress pooled around her,hair hanging in her eyes and a look of grim determination on her face. Repeatedly, she struck flint against rock, getting visibly more frustrated as sparks flew, but failed to catch.
Feyanna turned toward me and opened her mouth, but I held up a hand to stop her. I didn’t want to ruin Eve’s concentration.
“E-Ellis, why don’t—”
“Ssh,” I interrupted Feyanna, whose eyes sparked oddly before her chin went to her chest in defeat.
“Stupid thing. I never was any good at it. Gregory could do it like that,” Eve snapped her fingers together, letting the flint and stone fall to the ground. Her lip quivered once before she reined it in. She hadn’t mentioned Gregory, her old suitor, in ages. I’d almost forgotten he’d existed—almost.
“You’re doing amazing,” I offered, pulling her against my chest. “You have always done amazing.”
Her eyes closed as she relaxed against me. Feyanna sat down next to us, but I ignored her. “You got me out of the palace. You kept your head through everything, and not only survived, but helped me survive. You helped many of us survive.”
Feyanna leaned toward us, mouth opening again. I shot her a glare, and for the first time since I’d known her, her nostrils flared with irritation. She grabbed my shoulder.
Before I could protest, I felt it transfer from Feyanna to me: just the smallest kernel, but that was all I needed. It was what she was trying to tell me.
Magick.
Heat flushed my face as Feyanna pulled back, a smug expression only flitting across her face for a moment before it resumed its usual timid look.
“Uh, Eve. I’m sorry. I’m a dunderhead.”
She snorted and looked up at me, a sharp quip no doubt already on her tongue by the glint in her eyes.
Rather than hear it, I held my hand out over the fire, hoping I wasn’t about to burn it all down.
Cries and screams rang all around me. A little girl cried, wanting her mother. Everything was heat and flames and raging inferno, and I didn’t care. I was too angry. I was too indignant.
And then … nothing.
Just ashes to ashes. Dust to dust.
And Eve’s horrified, shocked face, covered in soot, as she stood in the ruins of what had just been a thriving tavern moments ago.
My hand shook.
Eve’s gaze shot to mine, a flicker of fear present.
She was afraid of my magick.
Understandable.
Maybe it would be best if I lost control and burned it all down. No more slaves, no more rebels, no more anything. Just sweet release and oblivion.
I needed a drink. No.No.
