Chapter Nine
Brea
“I’m hopeless.” Brea blew the hair out of her eyes and tried to focus on the cup of tea in front of her. But it wasn’t working. She narrowed her eyes, letting the word sit on her tongue before whispering, “hita.” Waiting a moment, she dipped her finger into the tea and growled. “Cold.” She had half a mind to throw the cup against the palace wall.
A low chuckle came from the other side of the high balcony she sat on. “You’re not hopeless, Brea.”
She lifted her eyes to her husband—ugh—and clenched her jaw. “Nothing is happening.”
He pushed away from the ivy-covered wall and sauntered toward her. She hated how good looking he was because that was the one nice thought about him that wasn’t caused by the magic.
A gust of warm air ruffled his auburn hair, revealing vibran
