Page 53 of The Witch Queen

“Laurel, how do you take your tea?” I ask with all the princely charm growing up in Velmara has given me. I pour the steaming liquid into a ceramic mug, waiting for her response.

Silene snorts, but Laurel responds, always one to hold on to etiquette. “As much cream as there is tea, and no sugar.” I prepare the tea for her, then pass it her way. “Thank you,” she says before taking a sip, and I can’t keep my eyes from tracking her lips as they purse around the edge of the cup. The warm liquid makes them deepen in color, and she runs her tongue over her bottom lip. I’m transfixed by the movement, my mind imagining that tongue in other places, doing other things…

“So,” Silene says with a twinkle of mischief in her eyes, breaking me out of my lust-addled haze, “what are you two getting up to today?”

“Training,” we both say simultaneously, and it sounds conspicuous even to me. Fionn’s eyes widen, and he smirks, while Silene bubbles with laughter.

“Hawthorne insists my light sparring skills need work,” Laurel answers awkwardly.

“I believe I recall telling you to call me Thorne afterlast night,” I retort back, unable to keep the sensuous innuendo from my voice, trying to get under her skin. Laurel blushes, and intense male satisfaction puffs up in my chest. As I stare at her with a smirk, her blush deepens, and my skin heats at the way it brings out her eyes. I’m overwhelmed with a desire to make her blush again and again. My body moves toward her instinctually before I clench my fists, determined to shut down this attraction to her. There’s no need to woo her. We’re allies now, and while I haven’t admitted the full truth about my father to her yet, she’s clearly committed to helping me uncover what he might do with the thayar stores. Not to mention, at this point I’m pretty sure she doesn’t practice blood magic anyway. The plan to seduce her is no more, so Iwillend this incessant flirting with her.

“Last night?” Fionn asks with mock surprise. Laurel’s blush deepens, and I can sense her desire to smother the insinuation going on.

“Oh, we just shared our deepest darkest secrets. Thought it made sense for her to call me Thorne after that,” I say to relieve her distress.

“A day like yesterday will bring that out, I suppose,” Fionn says somberly. The mood instantly darkens.

“Twenty-four died in the attack,” Laurel says softly. “Hundreds more were injured.”

We all sit quietly for a moment, unsure of what to say. Fionn surprises me when he takes Laurel’s hand and squeezes it, before adding, “We all did what we could, Your Majesty. Even more would have died if Silene and I hadn’t been there. And we were only there because you’re doing everything you can to stop this violence. You shouldn’t blame yourself, like I can see you’re doing.” I think I see her wipe a tear away quickly, but she hides the movement so well I can’t be sure.

“Yes, well,” she says. “Thornehas agreed to convince the rebels to stop attacking citizens. To focus their efforts on the palace and on me.”

“Andthatis why we need to train,” I add before Fionn and Silene can object to the plan. I may not agree with it, but I feel the need to defend her now that we’re with others. “What are you two up to today?” I ask them.

“We have a few sub-committee meetings this morning,” Silene answers cheerily. Only she could get excited by the endless bureaucracy of the Thayarian government. “We don’t have any plans for the afternoon, but, well, we thought…” she trails off, looking to Fionn.

“We thought we might go down to the merchant district and help however we can. Move families out of destroyed homes, clear rubble, whatever needs to be done,” Fionn finishes for her.

Laurel swallows. I want to reach for her, but I don’t. “That’s very kind,” she says softly. “I’m sure they can use all the extra hands. But… when will you contact the rebels next? Have you agreed to any future meetings?”

“We can stop by the granary and see if there are any messages for us. The rebels were going into safe houses at the end of the attacks. They may be quiet for a few more days before we hear from them,” Silene answers kindly, keenly aware that Laurel is clearly struggling to wait for the next meeting. Laurel only nods and downs her tea.

When we finish breakfast, I go to grab the two cloaks I wore yesterday to keep warm in the frigid northern air, but Laurel stops me. “We can use the training room here today,” she says. “It’s getting too cold to go elsewhere. I think with the magic we’re practicing, I should be okay to stay here.” I hang the cloaks back on their hooks by the door, secretly relieved not to spend the next several hours freezing my ass off. “We can also walk there, if you like,” she adds.

I give her a wide grin. “You are willing to beseeninpublicwith the likes ofme?”

“The palace is hardly public,” she retorts. “But yes, I think we can be seen walking the halls of the palace together. Plus, there’s something I want to show you.”

I’m more than intrigued and gladly follow her out the door after saying goodbye to Silene and Fionn for the day. She leads me up several flights of stairs to a hallway of the palace I haven’t seen yet. We walk to the end, then Laurel stops before a set of double doors, grinning brightly. My heart practically stops at the warmth of her expression, the genuine smile that lights her face from the inside out.

“We’re almost to the Winter Solstice,” she says, mischief in her eyes. “If you think it’s cold now, you’re going to turn into an actual glacier when Abscission begins.” I raise my eyebrow, unsure what she means. “The deciduous plants in Thayaria hold on to their leaves much longer than elsewhere, because of the magic here. They do eventually die off like everywhere else, but for a much shorter period. On the shortest day of the year, the Winter Solstice, they drop their leaves, and the kingdom enters a frigid cold. Everything is dreary and gray for about two weeks, and we call that Abscission. But after the two weeks, the biting cold lessens, and the plants re-bloom.”

“And what does this have to do with the roguish gleam in your eyes?” I ask, excited and terrified for whatever she’s going to show me.

“Well… like I said, you don’t have a very strong cold tolerance. None of you do. So, I have a… sanctuary, of sorts, for you.” With that, she throws the doors wide, and a wave of warm, almost tropical air hits me. It’s a balm against a cold I didn’t even realize I felt so deep in my bones. I walk through the doors into a room filled with lush, exotic plants. Neon pinks, bright reds, and lime greens fill the space, tucked away under a clear dome. The flowers are unlike any I’ve ever seen, even here in Thayaria, and ivy that’s different from what grows along the rest of the palace walls lines every surface that’s not already filled with a tropical plant.

“What—what is this?” I ask.

“It’s a greenhouse, kind of. It’s older than our archives, so we don’t know a lot about its origins, actually. I know that water from the nearby hot spring is pumped into here, but there’s some kind of spell work even I can’t decode. All we know is that it’s self-sustaining, always warm, and has plants that don’t grow anywhere else in the Four Kingdoms. It’s a delightful mystery.”

The humid air tickles my neck as I walk farther into the domed solarium. There’s a salty dampness that comforts me, and I laugh. “This isamazing,Laurel.” She blushes, and I take a step toward her, wanting to close the distance between our bodies.

“I thought you might want to come here to warm up after Winter Solstice,” she says softly, her voice almost a whisper. Bright green eyes stare up at me from dark lashes, almost shy. When I take another step closer, she freezes for a moment before pulling back, vulnerable expression gone. “All three of you, I mean. Silene and Fionn, too. You’re all welcome to use the space whenever you’d like.”

“Thank you, truly,” I say, then bow low, my hand fisted over my heart. “This is—it’s extremely thoughtful.” The longer I spend in here, the more it reminds me of Eastern Velmara, where my mother and her people hail. The humidity and lush vegetation are so similar to that oasis, it’s like I’ve aerstepped to my maternal grandfather’s estate. A twinge of sadness roils in my gut at the small reminder of her. It’s not unpleasant, a cross between nostalgia and longing, but it makes me ache with how much I miss her. Even though we only spent a decade together of the three and a half centuries I’ve been alive, the grief at losing her has never left me, never will leave me. I can still picture the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled, can still see the exact way her mouth would purse when she was trying to pretend to scold me but wanted to laugh.

“Are you okay?” Laurel’s soft voice pulls me from my walk down memory lane. She’s so perceptive, this female who pretends to be so fearsome and emotionless. Her small, delicate hand lifts, like she’s going to reach out and touch my arm, but just as quickly as she considers it, she clenches the hand in a fist at her side. I give her a real smile.

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