Page 95 of The Witch Queen

Thorne shakes out my hair. “Much better,” he growls, running the strands through his fingers. When the silky locks bore him, he moves his hands to my shoulders and massages the knots out of my neck. I moan in appreciation. “I must know—what do you think the temperature of the sea water is right now? Swimmable for a Velmaran with very little cold tolerance?” he asks, and I laugh.

“I should’ve known you’d be drawn to the water.”

“I love the water, especially the open sea. It’s one of my favorite places to think.”

“I prefer my water heated. A hot spring or a bath.”

He laughs at that remark. “I’ve noticed, witchling,” he murmurs in my ear, and I shiver.

“To answer your question, I think the water might still be too cold for a Velmaran. But us Thayarians love the bite this time of year, so maybe you need to try it out anyway.”

“Only if you come with me,” he whispers, and I swallow before nodding, imagining us taking a dip in the frigid waters in nothing but our undergarments.

We stay there until the sun sets, trading flirtatious comments and toeing the line of propriety with our touches. Meera arrives and clears her throat, causing me to practically leap from the chair in my embarrassment of what she’s seen, despite my earlier statement to Thorne.

“Your Majesty, Your Highness,” she says with a small dip of her head. “Your rooms are ready, and dinner will be served soon.”

“Thank you, Meera,” I tell her, my cheeks heated. She walks away with a mischievous smile on her face, like she knows exactly what’s going on and plans to tell the entire staff. I sigh, and Thorne takes his time standing, stretching his arms over his head.

“Shall we?” he asks. I nod and lead him back inside and down the left hallway, stopping at a door carved with azaleas.

“This is your room,” I inform him, though I instantly regret my words when I see the way his face falls.

“And would you like me to go there now?” His voice is tentative and uncertain, so unlike the male I know him to be that it gives me butterflies. Without thinking, I shake my head, and he gives me a dazzling grin that takes my breath away. “Lead the way toyoursuite, then, witchling.”

We walk to the end of the hall, to a set of wooden double doors carved in intricate designs of thayar flowers, laurel wreaths, and mountains. I push them open, bracing myself for the suite that’s filled with too many memories. Several rooms make up my parents’ former apartment. A sitting room with a small dining table, two offices, a bedroom, and a bathing chamber. I swallow, unable to hide the nervous energy this place brings to me.

“These were my parents’ rooms. I’ve had them completely remodeled and redecorated, but it’s still hard for me to be in here sometimes.” The admission should shock me, but at this point I’m desensitized to the way Thorne’s presence makes me open up parts of myself I thought were long buried. He only kisses my hand.

“Why not stay somewhere else? I’m sure the servants could prepare other rooms.”

“Because I—I think I’d like to make happy memories here,” I whisper. “I used to love sneaking in to snoop through their offices. My father kept a small jar of my favorite candy he would always hide in different places in his office for me to find.” I smile at the memory. “And this small balcony over here.” I gesture to my right. “This is where I read my firstsaucybook, in the summer sunshine. I remember being so worried my parents would step away from their work and look over my shoulder.” Thorne laughs, deep and throaty. “I modeled my bathing chamber in the Arberly palace off the bathing chamber here, when I renovated the rooms usually reserved for the Chair of the Council of Advisors.”

“Iknewyou couldn’t have been staying in the royals’ suite,” he says loudly, as if I’ve answered a question he’d been pondering for months.

“I don’t use their suite at the palace. It’s… it’s where they died,” I whisper again. “So, I’ve always just used the rooms down from the Council chambers.” He touches his forehead to mine.

“I’m in awe of you, your strength and your resilience.”

“Thorne…” I sigh his name. “There’s—there’s something I need to tell you. That Iwantto tell you, but that I’m terrified to trust you with,” I admit, my heart racing.

“Whatever it is, it won’t change how I feel about you. That I can promise. And you can take all the time you need,” he promises, squeezing my hands. I nod, looking into the pools of olive and mossy green staring back at me. There’s a knock on the door, and we both jump. I clear my throat.

“Come in,” I say with a voice that sounds guilty. So much for keeping this from them. Meera, along with several other servants, brings in endless trays filled with steaming food, laying the dining table with the spread. “This is incredible. Thank you. Please, take the evening off. We have everything we need.” Meera nods, and the servants leave quietly. “I’m actually starving,” I tell Thorne, grateful for the distraction and the excuse to stall. He looks me over carefully but says nothing.

I load up a plate with the aromatic and delectable food, then go to the patio to watch the rest of the sunset. Thorne follows and creates several glowing orbs of light that bob around us. When the sun reaches the horizon, it lights up the mist barrier, making the sea look like its glowing pink and orange.

“The mist is beautiful at sunset,” Thorne remarks in awe, finishing his dinner. “I see why you keep it up. Besides the protection, of course.” He winks. I take a deep breath. It’s now or never.

“I can’t lower it,” I croak out, desperate for him to know my secret, even while every molecule in my body fights this admission. His eyes widen in shock.

“What?” he whispers.

“When I put it up, I wasn’t fullyaware.I was grieving my parents and knew I was losing the war. I went to your father. Offered to marry him, practically begged him to end the war. But he refused. He told me I’d missed my chance and sent soldiers to slaughter my remaining army. I got there just as an assassin sent a blade hurtling towards Nemesia’s chest, and I knew it wouldn’t miss. I lost control, and I barely remember what happened. I just know I wanted it all to end, wanted my people safe, and the Velmarans gone. I—to be honest, I didn’t really even want to live anymore. I thought if I just hurled every bit of magic out it might stop your father, even if it killed me in the process. I passed out, and when I woke up several days later, there was a barrier of protective mist surrounding the kingdom.No one, not even Nemesia, knows that I can’t lift it. I’ve pretended all this time that I just want to keep it up for the safety of the kingdom. But no matter how hard I try, no matter how much magic I hurl at it, it won’t lift.” The words rush out of me, and my hands shake at finally—finally—telling someone this truth. My eyes dart back and forth between the ground and Thorne, wanting to know his reaction but afraid of it all the same. He only continues to stare at me calmly, thoughtful and silent, so I continue.

“It’s why I’ve spent centuries training my magic. Practicing control. I never want to lose control like that ever again. Iwon’tlose control like that ever again. Because my breakdown hastrappedmy people here for centuries.” I taste salt in my mouth, surprised that tears run down my face, but I ignore them. “The thayar flowers are declining because the magic of Thayaria is declining. I canfeelit. And every single day, I ask myself if it’s because of the mist. If the massive amount of aether it takes to keep it up is draining my kingdom of the magic that runs through it. It’s the only logical explanation.”

Thorne stands, and I tense, unsure what he’s going to do. He walks around the small coffee table, then drops to his knees in front of me. Taking both of my hands in his, that beautiful, handsome face stares up at me withso muchcompassion and adoration in his eyes that I can’t bear to look. My eyes dart to the ground, undeserving of this male who sees the best in me. He gently grips my chin, bringing my gaze back to his like he’s done so many times before, forcing me to face my demons with him.

---