Page 35 of The Witch Queen

The Secrets and Stories of Velmara

I’ve been here nearly six weeks, and the Velmaran court still eludes me. Thayaria is political, with countless advisors all angling for influence or higher positions within the Council of Advisors. But Thayarian political posturing is nothing compared to the viper’s den I’ve entered. The Velmaran court is made up of a combination of nobles, influential merchant families, and various courtiers who’ve made a name for themselves with the strength of their magic. King Mazus has a small group of advisors who have any real power or influence, which leaves the rest of the fae at court to their own machinations. They claw at whatever control they can get, engaging in complex schemes to secure things like bigger rooms, access to the King or his advisors, and party invitations.

When I first arrived, I could barely walk to the archives without a dozen fae trying to speak with me or invite me to their next gathering. Initially, I accepted as many of these invitations as I could, hoping to uncover more information about Mazus, Velmara, or the thayar flower. I quickly learned, however, that the fae at court have no interest in or access to the inner workings of the kingdom. The parties were vapid affairs, an opportunity for courtiers to share gossip and trade barbs. Once the courtiers realized I had no interest in playing their games or discussing the latest rumors, the invitations stopped coming, and I was free to spend my time dedicated to research.

The archives have been life changing. There are books on every topic, dating back thousands of years, and King Mazus has honored his word—I have unlimited access to everything. I’m sure Mazus has his own collection of volumes hidden away, but the librarians haven’t denied me any section or topic housed in the archives themselves. The head librarian—Dern—loathes me, but I’ve found a few younger librarians who are more helpful. One female in particular, named Genevieve, has been extremely accommodating.

It’s been a slow morning since I stayed up aether-knows how late reading a text I found yesterday on thayar flowers. I roll my legs off the bed, then stretch my arms above my head. The chambers provided to me have been more than comfortable. I have a large, soft bed, a massive wardrobe that my clothing only fills a quarter of, a desk, a sofa, and bathing chambers. I would have preferred a separate study area, but after discovering the lengths Velmaran fae will go to for larger rooms, I’m quite content in the smaller space.

Opening my door, I pick up the breakfast tray left there by the palace servants. Once I learned that servants in Velmara are unpaid, unlike in Thayaria, coerced into serving to pay off debts or bogus criminal charges, I insisted they provide me with the absolute bare minimum of work. The tea is tepid, but I drink it anyway, before grabbing a pastry and returning to my desk.

Last night’s discovery was massive. Before falling asleep last night, I decided I needed to write to Laurel first thing this morning. I pull out a sheet of parchment and begin the missive, omitting addressing her directly and beginning with dull information to keep potential prying eyes uninterested in the correspondence.

My friend,

I’m enjoying my time in Velmara more than expected. The archives are extensive, the food is excellent, and my chambers are comfortable enough. My favorite activity outside of research is walking through the Floating Market at sunset. It comes alive at night, with street vendors selling aromatic food and the Velmaran people greeting one another outside of taverns and shops. You can find live musicians on every corner, and the commoners are welcoming and friendly. I’ve learned much about Velmara and its histories and culture in the last several weeks.

One particular curiosity I’ve uncovered recently is the history of the thayar flower in Velmara. According to an ancient text on the flower, it once covered Velmara as well but disappeared. The passage did not mention what led to its decline but presented the information as if it was well known. I’ve also discovered that there is a shortage of the thayar flower here in Arnia. Most of Velmara’s supply is sent to the Nivan Desert to aid in trade and shipping. The aether is extremely hard to access there since it’s isolated from any leylines. The courtiers complain about the shortage frequently at parties, as they often use thayar flower to enhance their own magic.

In the right hands, this information could prove useful in negotiations or in making certain demands. I’m sure you can imagine who I refer to—the sons and daughters of our great kingdom deserve a better life, and I’m determined to find the information needed to remove any complications in achieving our vision for the realm.

Your friend and ally,

Nemesia

I reread the letter twice. It’s still too much of a risk, even with the vague language I’ve used. Assuming any correspondence I send will make its way to Mazus’s eyes, I must be mindful of what I write. While we suspect Mazus knows about the declining thayar, we don’t know for sure. I don’t want to alert him to it, nor do I want him to guess at the rebellion in Thayaria. But if Laurel could spread rumors that the thayar flower once existed elsewhere and declined, she could curb the rebellion’s recruitment efforts. With the right framing, the information might give the people less fear of the future. I sigh. It’s too risky to send any correspondence. I’ll have to wait till I go back to Thayaria to tell Laurel and will have to hope that until then she’s able to do what she can to stop the rebellion.

A knock sounds on my door. I crumple up the letter and throw it in the trash before standing to see who’s interrupted me. When I open the door, a bored-looking courtier looks me up and down, then hands me a roll of parchment. “From His Majesty,” she says, then turns away.

I open the scroll, then internally groan at the invitation to dine with Mazus that evening. So far, he’s rarely interacted with me. In fact, the only time I’ve seen him was my first day here. There was a massive spectacle of an event to welcome me. Mazus gave a long speech about diplomacy and being the light for Thayaria. It was the first time I realized how much his people believed in hisGolden Kingnonsense.

The letter requests my presence this evening for a private dinner with His Majesty King Mazus, Golden King of Velmara. It also specifies I’m to wear formal attire, and that His Majesty has arranged for a suitable gown to be sent to me this afternoon. I had a feeling I wouldn’t get away with leggings and tunics as a female in this country. Sighing, I decide to spend a few hours in the archives before returning to my chambers to dress and steel myself for the dinner.

“Is there anything I can help you with today?” Genevieve asks. The young librarian’s mahogany and amber eyes stare down at me from where I’m seated at my favorite workstation in the archives.

“Actually, yes, there is,” I tell her, though I don’t actually know what help I’m going to ask for. Midnight black curls bob around her delicate features as she sits down next to me and looks expectantly at my face. She smells like vanilla and parchment, and it makes my brain turn off completely. I scramble to think of something to ask her for, hoping to keep her here. “Er, right, so, I’ve been reading about the thayar flower, and I found a passage last night that mentions they once grew in Velmara. Do you know of any other texts that mention that?”

Shit.That was not information I should have given her.

Her brows furrow. “No, I can’t say that I do. Could you show me the book? I might be able to find other titles like it.”

Digging through my bag, I realize I don’t even have the book. I’m a bumbling idiot. “I must have left it in my rooms,” I say with a shrug, trying to hide my embarrassment.

“Then you’ll just have to seek me out tomorrow for more help!” she says with a smile. It lights up her face and makes her already breathtaking features otherworldly. My own lips lift in a grin.

“I guess I will,” I say with a smirk. She blushes, and it makes my own cheeks heat.

“Anything else you need help with? I’m incredibly bored and avoiding another scholar from Delsar,” she whispers conspiratorially. I can’t help the chuckle that escapes me.

“Hmmm,” I ponder aloud. “Maybe you could give me a tour of the archives. I’ve never been given one. I just showed up and started exploring.” Her eyes light up at that request, and she claps her hands together.

“I would love to! I hardly ever get to give tours. Dern always gives them. He probably skipped yours because he doesn’t like you very much. I don’t know why, you seem fine enough to me…” She trails off, and I smirk at her cheerful honesty. Horror crosses her expression, and she claps her hands over her mouth. “I’m so sorry! I spend so much time alone that I completely forget how to speak to others. And I’ve always been someone who speaks without thinking. The head librarian doesn’t like a lot of people, me included, so don’t take it too personally.”

“It’s okay. I don’t much like him either.” She grins.

“We’ll start with the oldest sections and make our way chronologically,” she declares, leading the way into the darkest corners of the archives. I follow, my eyes trailing her swishing hips.

We travel through the archives, Genevieve pointing out significant books or sections as we go. When we reach a dusty and sad looking set of shelves, she turns to me in delight.

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