Beauty In Darkness

22

“The way you looked at me earlier…” She turned her head away with a sigh. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have worn your mother’s jewels.”

My back stiffened. “Don’t be. They’re yours now. I wasn’t upset. If anything, I was taken back by how beautiful you looked wearing them.”

“Truly?” The sleepy smile that slid across her lips made my trousers even more uncomfortable. “Then why did you leave?”

“I had business to attend to in another town. You shouldn’t have waited up for me.” I tucked the blankets around her. “Go to sleep, Rose.”

Her eyes were already closed, and I wondered if she had fallen asleep already. Before I could stop myself, I bent down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. I straightened up quickly, wondering what on earth had gotten into me. With any luck, she wouldn’t remember I had done something so foolish tomorrow.

I quickly made my escape, using the adjoining door to stumble into my bedroom as the exhaustion caught up to me. I hadn’t slept in my own bed in days, perhaps weeks, but I had no other choice tonight. I collapsed onto it still in my clothes, and was instantly sucked into dark, dreamless sleep.

Fourteen

Rose

M

y next few days were spent with my nose in the books Raith had given me or being fitted by a seamstress and her team in beautiful, elaborate gowns for my upcoming debut as Ilidan’s queen. The only time I saw Raith was at supper, which he always attended for a short while before abruptly making an excuse and dashing from the room. Every night he teleported somewhere, doing something he refused to speak about, and my mind ran wild, conjuring up different scenarios to explain his late-night escapades. I imagined him sneaking into an illicit gambling hall, or meeting with a group of assassins to plot and scheme, or, worst of all, climbing into the bed of his mistress. A lump formed in my throat at that last thought.

But then I remembered the way he’d carried me up the stairs the other night and tucked me into bed. His touch had been so tender, and even in my half-asleep state his low voice had seemed to wrap around me like a warm blanket. Sometimes I fancied he might have said I was beautiful and then kissed my forehead, but I quickly dismissed that as wishful thinking and nothing more.

Raith had been distant ever since that night and especially quiet at supper, no matter how much I tried to initiate conversation. To break the tense silence, I told him about each of my sisters, about Dahlia’s secret room in the castle, about the striped cat I had growing up named Whiskers, and a dozen other things about myself that he probably had little interest in. And every time he left me alone halfway through our meal I wondered, why did I even bother?

Once I finally finished Raith’s latest pile of books, I searched him out and found him in his study. The door was slightly ajar and I paused before entering, letting my eyes linger on his profile. He stood over a large tome, his head bent in concentration, a strand of black hair falling over his brow. I’d caught him in a rare, unguarded moment, and my heart ached at the sight. I found myself holding my breath, hoping to delay him noticing me so I could drink in the sight of him a little while longer. It was such an unexpected pleasure to be able to stare at him as long as I liked without his disapproving gray eyes piercing right through me. Instead I could simply let my gaze rest on his sharp jaw, which was dusted with a light coat of stubble that crept down his neck and into the high collar of his black cloak. I imagined trailing my fingers down it and wondered what it would feel like against my skin. Or my tongue…

Raith’s head jerked toward me, his eyes narrowing. “Yes?”

And just like that, the moment was ruined.

I straightened up, hoping he couldn’t tell what I’d been thinking about from my flushed cheeks or slightly parted lips, then crossed the room to his desk. I set down the stack of books I’d completely forgotten I was holding while I’d been gaping at him. “I’m finished with your latest round of busywork. Do you have another stack of books ready for me?”

“Perhaps.” One of his perfect, dark eyebrows lifted up. “What was your analysis of what you read?”

“Beyond the fact that each one was a total bore…” I tilted my head as I considered. “Some wizards theorize that magic was given to us by the Sun and Moon to protect and guide the people, while others claim it was meant for us to rule with. But from what I read, the Six Kingdoms have been at war as far back as history has been recorded, and in many cases magic only made things worse, not better. Magic is not a gift, but a responsibility.”

He leaned against his desk, crossing his arms as he appraised me. “A sound analysis. As you said, magic is not to be used lightly, and those who have it can shape the world, but perhaps they shouldn’t. We must always be careful how we use our magic, especially since we are already in a position of power and privilege. Do you see now why I wanted you to understand that?”

“You don’t want me to be reckless or overconfident. Or to think that using magic can solve every problem. Or to become a tyrant intent on conquering other kingdoms like my father.”

“Indeed.” His intelligent gray eyes stared at me so long I thought he must be reading my thoughts or peering deep into my soul. “Perhaps you’re ready for the next lesson.”