Page 27 of The Witch Queen

“That is precisely what we donotwant,” I say harshly. Silene winces, and I vow to tone it down. They need to trust me, even if I don’t trust them. “If the prisoners go missing with no witnesses, the three of you will be instantly suspected or believed to be working with the rebels. My Council—all of Thayaria, really—distrusts you, and are looking for any reason to insist I return you to Velmara at once. You need to break them out with a rebel or two with you and ensure only the rebels are seen.”

Fionn looks disappointed, and I wonder how the famed warrior is taking to the life of a diplomat. They don’t have access to any sparring rings, and that must be especially frustrating for him. I’ll fix that tomorrow. They’ll need to train for the breakout anyway without raising suspicions, and it will be an olive branch. I hope.

Silene, ever the strategist, chimes in. “Thorne can use his magic to hide us and make it so that only the rebels are seen. We’ll have to convince the rebels to provide fighters and ensure they know they’ll be blamed for the breakout. I suspect they won’t mind. We’ll want to make sure there are enough guards to spot and report the rebels, but not so many guards that it’s suspicious only a few rebels can get past them.”

“Leave that to me. Prince Hawthorne, would you be able to hidebothFionn and Silene from another room?” I ask.

“Of course. I’m not the most powerful light channelerever knownfor nothing.” He winks.

“Rumors of your reputation mention little about yourmagicalabilities,” I retort.

Catching my subtle innuendo, he smirks. “And whatabilitiesdid you hear about, witchling?” My legs clench together involuntarily at the sultry tone of his voice, but I won’t let him win whatever this is.

“Let’s just say your reputation for drinking and—other things—precedes you,” I add, eyes focused on the dimple that makes another appearance.

“Sounds like you were really interested in me,” he quips, voice low. I swear his body leans in toward me, but I ignore it.

“Hardly,” I scoff, though my cheeks heat and I try really hard not to notice the way his shirt stretches taut across his chest.

“If only we’d met sooner, you wouldn’t have had to go to such extreme lengths to learn more,” he taunts. I find myself rolling my eyes while my lips tighten in an unbidden half-smile. I quickly return my face to neutral. I need to get this conversation back on track.

“Speaking of meeting, after youdemandedan audience with me and chastised me so thoroughly for the lack of pomp and circumstance for your arrival, I’m suddenly feelinginspiredto throw a ball in your honor, princeling.” I give the last word my most sarcastic bluster, challenging the Prince with my gaze. The plan dawns on him and his face brightens. My breath catches in my chest at the sight of his handsome features pulled into a smile directed only at me, but I don’t let that show on my face.

“With the recent rebel attacks, you’ll want to increase security significantly for a ball. You wouldn’t want the rebels to cause trouble in front of the Velmaran Crown Prince, would you?” he asks in mock concern.

“Precisely,” I say, slipping into a cool mask of regal indifference. That doesn’t stop us from staring at one another for a second too long, energy pulsing between us. Fionn clears his throat, and my cheeks heat this time in embarrassment. I’m suddenly aware that his betrothed, who I find myself liking more and more, sits next to me. Shame courses through my body.

I can’t deny I find the Prince attractive. Any female even slightly interested in males would, with his bright smiles and the dimple on one cheek and the way his dark hair looks so effortlessly swept back from his face and his strong forearms… I shut those thoughts down. I can’t afford to let myself get distracted. He’s still theVelmaran Prince, my enemy, and someone I was literally plotting to kill just days ago. Amstillplotting to kill. From this point forward, I vow to smother any notice of hisfeatures. I’m getting the information I need from him, then getting rid of him. I push down the queasiness I feel at the idea of having Prince Hawthorne, or even worse, Silene, killed. I tip my chin higher, determined to stick to the plan and stop getting sidetracked. My people deserve a Queen who puts them first and doesn’t get distracted by dimples and winks.

“I’ll set the date of the ball with my Council tomorrow so you can inform the rebels of when to prepare for the breakout,” I say, the words coming out awkward and stilted.

“And do you have a plan for how to actually get the rebelsoutof the palace?” Silene asks, apparently unaffected by the blatant flirting between the Prince and me. “We might be able to sneak them out of prison without notice, but this is a big palace. It will be challenging to march them through the halls and to a group of rebels waiting for them outside.”

“I have a plan. I’ll tell you about it in due time.” I’m not yet ready to trust them with information about the secret passage out of the prison.

“We need to plan—” Silene starts.

“I said I’ll tell you about it at the right time,” I say fiercely. For the second time in this conversation, she winces. Guilt swims through my gut, but I push it down, reminding myself that she’s the future daughter-in-law of King Mazus. And that I will have to make difficult decisions in the near future about her. As the tension lingers between us, I aerstep away.

When I aerstep the next morning to meet the Velmarans for a tour of their new training room, Carex is with them already. Prince Hawthorne leans against the wall, relaxed and casual like he’s grown up in the palace, making small talk and joking. It looks like he’s trying toflirtwith Carex. He gives the Captain a wink and a smirk, which only makes Carex look uncomfortable. I don’t understand this male—he seems to flirt with everyone he meets, despite his betrothed standing right next to him. His broad chest is on full display in the form-fitting shirt he wears, and that dimple appears as he makes a joke with Silene.Stop looking at him.

I square my shoulders and address the Captain. “Carex, I didn’t expect to see you. I planned to give the ambassadors a tour of their new training room.” I’m suspicious of Carex’s fortuitous timing. He bows low, then stands to meet my eyes.

“I ran into them in the hall in front of the kitchens. I had just finished my final checks on the space. If you’d like, Your Majesty, I’m happy to provide them a tour so you can return to your other work. I’m sure you have more pressing matters to attend to,” he says. He’s collected, his face holding a calm expression, but something about the encounter doesn’t sit right with me.

“That won’t be necessary. Thank you for preparing this so quickly. I know what havoc the guards can wreak in their training rooms.”

Carex tenses. “Your Majesty,” he says in a low voice. Stepping closer, he adds so only I can hear, “Is it wise for you to be alone and unguarded with them? I should come with you to watch your back.” I notice he eyes Fionn suspiciously, and he must know of the male’s reputation as a warrior and incredibly powerful metal channeler. I consider him carefully, unsure what he’ll do if I refuse his protection. Though it irks me, I begrudgingly consent to have him accompany us, not wanting to stir up any suspicion on his part.

The training rooms for the Royal Guard sit in natural caves in the mountain the palace is built into. This makes them all unique—some are small, appropriate for only a pair of sparring partners, while others are enormous. This one is big enough for about a half dozen guards, but no more. The ceiling is high, with mats stacked in the far-right corner. Racks of practice weapons line one side, and ivy crawls up the walls. There are oak buckets of water throughout the room, and torches emit a yellow glowing ember. All channelers will find something in the space for magic practice, though there’s also a circle lined in iron to block magic for certain training situations.

While we walk around the room, I explain the iron ring and the conduits available, desperately trying and failing to keep my eyes from watching Prince Hawthorne and his muscled chest closely. I show them how to refill the water buckets from the spigot and inspect the practice weapons. I palm the only dagger on the rack and hide it in my dress sleeve. When we’ve explored every corner of the room, I turn and look at the Prince.

“Is there anything else you require, Prince Hawthorne?” I ask.

“No, Your Majesty.” He bows, and a piece of hair falls into his eyes from the perfectly messy style. I want to run my fingers over the silky locks.Stop it, Laurel.“Fionn, Silene, and I train in a similar space under the Velmaran palace, so we’re pleased to feel so at home. Thank you for your hospitality. I’m sure Fionn in particular will be relieved to have the chance to wave a sword around my face once again.” He smiles, bright and alluring, and that cursed dimple makes another appearance. I clench my fists to keep from reacting to it, only to realize my body has leaned into him. Coughing, I back away.

“Carex, I’ve just realized there are no daggers available on the weapons rack. Would you mind running to another room and grabbing one? I believe Miss Kalmeera mentioned daggers being her weapon of choice.” Silene thankfully doesn’t react to the blatant lie I’ve just told. Smart girl. I knew she’d catch on.

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