Page 43 of The Witch Queen

She eats here alone.

That realization haunts me in a way I can’t explain, sending ice to my heated blood instantly. I’m going to insist she join us for a meal soon. Ihaveto. Laurel speaks, voice melodic, breaking me out of my silent observations.

“I keep a highly concentrated distillation of thayar in a few wine bottles. Makes them easier to store and conceal. I just have to remember which ones they are…”

Silene giggles. “What if you thought you were drinking wine from a bottle, but instead took a massive sip of the concoction?”

Laurel grins wide, and it nearly knocks me to my knees. “Thankfully, I save my straight-from-the-bottle-wine-drinking for when I’m alone. It might make me light up like a torch, but at least no one would see.”

“Iwant to see that!” Silene cackles.

Laurel’s lips twitch, and an odd expression crosses her features for a moment, but she only says, “Maybe someday I’ll show you.” Silene nods her head enthusiastically. “Here we go! Now I remember. I used the bottles that have these silly goats on them,” Laurel says, pulling out an ancient-looking wine bottle from the bar cart.

“Why those?” Silene asks.

“You know, I honestly can’t remember,” Laurel replies, and the two of them burst into a fit of laughter. Once again, I feel a deeply seatedurgingto move closer to her, to touch her. I clench my teeth, but it doesn’t stop me from casually stepping to stand by her side, pretending I want a closer look at the wine bottle in her hand. Our hands brush, and Laurel startles before stepping away to stand in front of Silene, though she looks up at me with those bright and clear green eyes. Something passes between us again, and I know she feels it this time with the way her expression twitches, but she ignores it, instead showing Silene the bottle and giggling with her over the goat printed on the label.

This is torture.

Laurel pulls a small vial from her pocket, then fills it with a small measure of liquid. She hands it to Silene, who stares at it for just a moment before throwing back her head and drinking it. She licks her lips as she passes it back to Laurel. Laurel refills the vial, corks it, and hands it back to Silene.

“It tastes better than I expected,” Silene says.

“My friend…er… my advisor, Nemesia, developed the recipe herself. She brews refined thayar with sugar, honeysuckle, and lavender. It’s delicious and also potent. That dose is equivalent to about four flowers.” My jaw drops. Velmarans consider the petals of one flower brewed into a mug of tea to be a standard dose. Silene also looks at Laurel with wide eyes.

“Fourflowers? This will amplify my magic forhours, maybe even days,” Silene says, wonder in her eyes.

“I know you’re going unarmed today,” Laurel admits quietly. “I just wanted to make sure you would be safe. Especially if something happens and you’re there longer than you expect.”

Something in my chest squeezes, and I look into Laurel’s eyes, trying to convey my gratitude to her. She finally returns my stare, acknowledging the unspoken words between us before looking down at her hands in embarrassment. The ice queen has a soft spot for Silene. It gives me hope that maybe—just maybe—she’ll fully open up to us one day. And that maybe I won’t need to seduce her to get her to trust us.

“How are you feeling?” I ask Silene to distract myself from the overwhelming desire to wrap Laurel in my arms.

“Like I could aerstep this whole fucking castle,” she squeals. Laurel’s lips quirk, and I meet her eyes again. This time, she doesn’t look away, meeting my gaze full on. It’s intimidating as fuck, and I want to run from it and drown in it in equal measure.

“Then let’s go,” I say, tearing my gaze from Laurel’s. “We’ll aerstep back to our apartment when we’re done. Now that I’ve been to your rooms, I can flicker the lights here to signal that we’re back.” Laurel nods, then Fionn and I grab Silene’s hands. Technically, we don’t have to be touching for Silene to aerstep up, but it helps her control the magic she rarely uses. As I look up and down Laurel’s body one more time, the familiar pressure of being aerstepped compresses my body.

We arrive just outside of Oakton, having picked the exact place on the map where we wanted to appear several days prior. Silene releases our hands and the three of us walk into the bustling village. The inspiration for the village name becomes immediately apparent, as it sits within a massive oak forest. Sprawling trees that are somehow still green even well into winter grow everywhere there isn’t a building or road. The winter sun filters through the swaying branches high above, casting everything in a sun-dappled glow.

The buildings in the town are all wooden, likely made from the very oaks felled to make room for them. As we walk, I notice there are humans and fae living alongside one another, a rare sight in Velmara outside of the capital, but more common here in Thayaria. Children chase one another through the streets while their parents yell at them to behave. We arrive at the tavern where we were told to meet, though we’re an hour early on purpose.

Silene and I enter through the front doors, while Fionn sneaks around the back to secure an exit for us just in case. It’s gloomy and run down inside, nothing like the pristine and lively pubs of Arberly. A single barmaid wipes down the bar while a group of fae occupy a table in the corner, speaking quietly. Silene shrugs, and we take a seat at a table that has a view of both the front and back entrances.

The barmaid comes over, a human woman who can’t be more than a few decades old. “What can I get ya?” she asks.

I give her a wide, dashing grin. “Just two ales, please,” I say, winking.

As she walks away, Silene snorts. “Must youalwaysflirt with every barkeep we ever encounter? What wouldLaurelsay?” she asks in mock horror.

“One—yes, I must flirt with them, as it makes it easier to get information out of her when she comes back. And two—Laurel seems to pay little attention to who I do or do not flirt with, herself included.” The words come out more defensive and whining than I intend, like I’m pouting that a pretty girl won’t flirt back with me. It’s abhorrent. I try to recover the situation. “The Queen of Thayaria is a mark, nothing more, nothing less. She’s just been… difficult.” The lie is as much for myself as it is for Silene.

“I think Laurel notices you flirting with her,” Silene says with a knowing smile. “The two of you are blatantly obvious about yourflirting.And we both know she’s much more than amark,as you say.”

My cheeks heat, and I stammer out my response. “I—she’s not—we’re—”

Silene bursts out laughing. “I never thought I would see the day theShining Princeof Velmara turns into a blubbering idiot over a female. Though I guess I’ve never actually seen you be interested in anyone, female or male, my entire life. It makes sense you’d be more like the rest of us when you actually care.”

I’m about to retort that I have no idea what she’s talking about when the barmaid returns, placing two ales on our table. I hand her a generous amount of Thayarian coin, then say, pointedly, “We’re meeting some folks here in about an hour. Not sure who they are or what they might look like, but we’re hoping you might know something about that.” I give her another conspiratorial grin.

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