Page 73 of Queen of the Night
I stop pacing and wait for his answer.
Jethonan leans against his large desk covered in glass vials and bowls of odd-colored liquids and folds his arms. “Could Vera be?—”
I scowl and shake my head, frustrated he’s asking. I won’t hope for something that’s not possible. “I already told you that I was with her for days, and my magic never drew toward her like that. I did get injected by velvet widow venom?—”
Jethonan shakes his head. “Velvet widow venom has not affected any other’s magic, as far as I know.”
“How am I to identify a Black Tulip if my magic is drawing toward random women?” I ask angrily.
Jethonan thinks for a moment, then asks, “Is your magic working normally in every other way?”
I nod.
“Has it drawn toward any other woman?”
“No.”
Jethonan smirks. “Then the only explanation is that you had a Black Tulip in your hands.”
I refuse to consider what he says. “Are there not ways to test my magic?”
Jethonan raises his brows. “May I be honest, Your Majesty?”
“Possibly,” I growl.
“You are an observant, intuitive warrior.”
I warily accept his compliments with a nod.
He appears to choose his words carefully. “With those gifts… did anything come to your notice that may have seemeddifferentabout her?”
I rub the back of my neck with a hand as I begin to pace again. “No.”
All her differences made sense, sort of.
I shake my head, but then memories begin to show themselves, and I stop. “Have you ever met an originator who never wears white or shows their mark?”
Jethonan shakes his head. “No, but it’s believable.”
I nod in agreement and continue back across the room. “Animals are drawn to her, but so they are to Rhosse, as well.”
Jethonan nods, but the knowing glint in his eye makes mewant to leave his office. There’s no possible way Vera is a Black Tulip. It doesn’t make sense.
I continue, somewhat warily, this being one of my biggest questions. “What about an originator that also has the magic of a talented healer?”
Jethonan smiles like a smug cat. “Never that.”
My gaze whips toward him as the tiniest flicker of hope comes to life in my chest—I extinguish it with a scowl. “But is it possible?”
Jethonan shrugs. “I don’t believe so. I’ve never heard of a person being born with two magical factions.” He raises a questioning brow. “Did she heal you?”
“Once, when she believed I was a criminal. I was unaware, but she admitted it when I questioned her later.”
“Anything else about her magic?” Jethonan prompts.
I think for a moment, remembering how it felt when I pulled large amounts of lucent and didn’t feel like I was going to burst into flames. “It was cooler than I’ve ever felt, which made it more comfortable to use. I didn’t feel as if I were going to burn alive.”
Jethonan’s eyes are eager now. “And the color of her magic… a hint of yellow as the sun? Or white, like the moon?”
