Page 65 of The Witch Queen

“We are taught from an early age about the Golden King. He’s ruled Velmara for hundreds and hundreds of years, and the kingdom has prospered under his leadership,” she responds by rote. The words sound rehearsed, and her eyes almost look distant, like she’s dissociating from what she says.

I press further. “That doesn’t sound like an answer to my question.” I keep my expression cool, giving nothing away as I stare at her. Her shoulders tense for the briefest moment. There’s something here.

“As one of the youngest librarians, I’m often assigned the task of documenting the King’s speeches or other informational materials. I file them away in the section on his rule and cross-check his words against information in the archives.” Her eyes are filled with meaning, but I don’t understand what she’s trying to tell me. I’m about to ask her to speak plainly when she abruptly changes the subject. “Would you like some tea? I’d like to go make myself a cup.” Before I can even answer her question, she’s gone, slipping down the stairs in a blur. The conversation clearly made her uncomfortable, but for what reason, I can’t say.

When she returns, two mugs of steaming tea in her hands, I don’t continue the conversation. We sit side by side in silence, each reading one of Mazus’s books. Genevieve takes furious notes as her eyes dart across the pages of the book on Velmara. After only an hour, she’s filled pages and pages with her scribbles. I want to examine them, curious what she’s found that’s so noteworthy, but I leave it be. I clearly spooked her with my questions about Mazus. There’s more to what she said, but I need to probe delicately.

When the setting sun makes the light dance across the table in a soft glow, we both simultaneously decide to leave at the same time, turning to one another and speaking over one another.

“We should—” Genevieve says.

“Well, it’s getting late,” I say.

She giggles loudly while I let out a soft chuckle, then we stand there awkwardly, unsure what to say. The moment stretches with tension, though it’s not unpleasant. A million possibilities expand before us as we stare at one another, a question hovering in the space between us, though I’m not sure what it is. Is she—Could she be—

“Would you like to walk through the gardens of the palace?” Genevieve finally asks, interrupting my thoughts, eyes bright. “They are beautiful at sunset and will be as empty as the library.” I can’t keep the soft and warm smile that breaks out across my face. Something about Genevieve brings out a gentleness in me that I’m not sure I’ve ever shown anyone, wasn’t even sure I possessed.

“Yes, I’d like that,” I answer softly before following her out of the library and through the halls of the castle.

“Did you always want to be a librarian?” I ask a half hour later as we stroll through the manicured garden built in the center of the Velmaran castle. The garden’s nice at this time of night, with perfectly trimmed hedges and trees lining a sandy path. Only a few flowering bushes add any color to the space. It’s nothing compared to the lush gardens and verdant landscape of Thayaria.

“Oh, no, not at all. I’m part of the Kalmeera noble family.” I raise my brows, recognizing the name as the most powerful and wealthy family name in Velmara. “My mother was the sister of Silas Kalmeera. She married my father, another distant Kalmeera cousin, when she was only forty years old. She died giving birth to me at forty-two, bringing great shame to my family. My father married another Kalmeera cousin and left me to be raised by my uncle Silas and his wife. Silas’ daughter, Silene, is one of the ambassadors who went to Thayaria, actually. She’s much younger than me.” She delivers the information straight forward, with that same bright and cheery energy she always has, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to tell a practical stranger about her family history. I recall the brief meeting with her cousin as I left Thayaria, and I can’t believe I didn’t put the connection together before. They look remarkably similar. “Anyway, I was raised to be a wife and a mother, as all noble females are. But since my mother died in childbirth, there was a fear I would inherit her weak constitution. Silas struggled to betroth me. So he gave me to the archives instead.” She says the last part as if it’s the best thing to have ever happened to her, and I can’t help but agree with the sentiment.

“And do you like your life as a librarian?”

“I do, very much,” she says with a soft smile, eyes distant as if, even now, she’s thinking about the books she wants to read. “I much prefer it to being a wife to some male I despise.” I snort in laughter, and she gives me a conspiratorial grin.

“In Thayaria, females are valued for more than their childbearing. Many female fae choose to stay unmarried.” Genevieve looks at me like I’ve grown two heads, and I laugh. “It’s true. We even let females and human women serve as soldiers or Royal Guards.” Her expression is incredulous.

“I enjoy my life as a librarian…” she says slowly. “But I’ve always wondered, if other opportunities had been available to me…” she trails off, not willing to say the words aloud. It breaks my heart a little. Genevieve is clearly someone with a deep well of energy and intelligence, two traits that would have opened many doors for her in Thayaria. “Do you enjoy being an ambassador?” she asks, though I get the sense it’s not to change the subject, but to simply continue the conversation.

I consider my answer for a moment. “I don’t know that I’m serving as a true ambassador. I’ve spent almost all of my time in the archives, which I love. I’m enjoying whatever it is I’m doing here in Velmara,” I answer honestly, and she laughs, a bright and almost chirping melody.

“That’s good, then. And the archivesarewonderful.” We settle once again into companionable silence as we follow the winding labyrinth of the path.

As we walk, we occasionally bump into one another, one or both of us unable to walk in a straight line. Every time our hands or arms brush, a warm tingling sensation gathers low in my belly. I’m lusting after this cheery, bright, and open female. I’m not one to shy away from my sexuality, but here in Velmara, where roles for women are so dictated by society, I don’t dare pursue it. Even if she were interested—which is very unlikely, considering the way Velmara frowns upon relationships between females—it would put her in danger. And the thought of that is intolerable to me.

So we continue walking, chatting pleasantly about some of our favorite books and places in the archives. I tell her more about Thayaria, about the way the landscape is covered in foliage and so unlike Velmara. She listens with rapt attention, filing the information away, her mind a natural fit for the life of a scholar. Despite my earlier curiosity about her notes on Mazus’s book, I forget about them, caught up in the fast friendship forming between us. If I’m honest with myself, it’s refreshing to have companionship after so many weeks alone.

When the sky is inky black, we finally head back inside the palace. “Thank you for walking with me,” Genevieve says with a gentle smile that’s soothing. She radiates calming energy effortlessly, a balm to my weathered soul.

“Thankyoufor inviting me.” My words are quiet and slow, so unlike me.

“Good night, Nemesia.” With that, she turns down the corridor to my right and leaves me standing there staring after her. The soft and gentle way she said my name repeats in my mind as I walk to my own room, and for the first time since I’ve arrived in Velmara, I don’t feel alone.

Hawthorne

The Golden King and his son, The Shining Prince, stand together as a beacon of light against the darkness of Thayaria’s Witch Queen. With King Mazus watching over Velmara, its children are safe from the evils of the Witch Queen, as long as they mind their parents and teachers. But the poor children of Thayaria are enslaved, forced to work for the Witch Queen or provide her their blood. One day, King Mazus and Prince Hawthorne will defeat the witch, and the children of Thayaria will be safe and happy once again.

Velmaran Book of Children’s Stories

We pass the rest of Abscission splitting our time equally between our apartment and the greenhouse, reading, playing Skran, and talking late into the night. Laurel joins us most days, though she spends nearly all of her time with Silene. It’s almost like she’s avoiding me. The two of them giggle side by side, reading romance books or playing pranks on Fionn and me. At one point, they convinced Fionn to walk under a swirling ball of water. Once he was under it, Laurel had it collapse over him, drenching him in water filled with glittery strings of a slimy substance that stuck to his skin. When he turned and looked at them with incredulity on his face and covered in glitter, they burst out laughing and didn’t stop for a full ten minutes. Fionn just stalked off to his bathing chamber without saying a word.

Laurel also trains with me every few days, slowly improving but still struggling to let go and let the light do what it will. Today, I attempted to teach her to create lightning, hoping it would be an exercise in letting go, but she failed spectacularly. Her drive is impressive—once she’s determined to learn something, she doesn’t stop until she masters it. Equally impressive is her impatience. Not one used to struggling with magic, Laurel gets easily frustrated when she can’t do something immediately.

Despite the additional time we’re spending together, it’s awkward between us after the Solstice dinner. Iknowshe was going to kiss me that night, know that if Silene hadn’t interrupted us, we might have done more than kiss. I can’t get the feel of her body pressed against mine out of my head, those soft curves brushing against me. I want to get her alone again even as the thought scares me. The second Silene appeared, Laurel ripped herself away from me and has somehow ensured Silene or Fionn or both are present when we’re together, even when we train.

After today’s session, where I had to physically drag her out of the training room to get her to stop practicing, I glimpsed her clutching my lightning bolt necklace. The sight sent hot desire shooting through every inch of my body, and I couldn’t stop the image of her naked, wearing nothing but that necklace, from barging into my thoughts. Even now, laying alone in my room late at night on the last day of Abscission, my mind wanders to her.

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