Page 114 of A Kingdom of Shadow and Ash

‘It’s what witches do. They glamour things. I have no idea how they do it, becas am not a witch. But I knew a girl that had met a witch a while back who said that witches are really good at glamouring things— so they can make it look different to us non-witch folk.’

‘How do weunglamour it?’ Mal’s mind spun, but she kept her expression neutral. Wren had not mentioned having a vision of Mal using magic. Did she know? Or was she oblivious to what Mal had begun to suspect about herself?

For now, Mal would keep that secret locked away.

Without hesitation, Wren snatched the notebook from her hands. ‘We go to da source. It was in ya maid’s room, so we go to her and ask her why she’s keeping a magical notebook in her trunk. She’s probably another witch just like Vera.’

‘Very well.’ Mal stood up. ‘But we ought to approach her tomorrow when she comes to clean the room. It’s very late and the Fire Prince—I mean,my husband, will be coming back soon to rest.’ Wren nodded, offering an exaggerated salute before bounding towards the door, disappearing into the corridor with a flurry of enthusiasm.

Silence settled in her absence.

‘She is insufferable,’ Kage muttered.

‘And yet, I’ve never seen you speaking so much.’ Mal smiled sweetly at him. Kage shot her a withering look, but she pressed on, teasing. ‘Perhaps a few more days in her company and you will be talking as much as her.’

His exhale was slow, weary, as if the sheer effort of enduring Wren’s presence had left him depleted.

His dark eyes swept the room, lingering over the intricately carved furniture, the flickering candlelight, the familiar wyverian designs woven into every detail. He did not move from where hestood—a shadow draped in midnight, unmoving but observant.

‘The prince made all of this for you?’ He gestured with a long, pale finger, his voice unreadable.

Mal turned away, nodding.

‘Hmm.’

There was somethingdifferentin the sound. A strange weight pressing against the single syllable.

‘What is it?’ she asked, glancing over her shoulder.

Kage merely shrugged.

It was a slow, indifferent motion—the kind of gesture that belonged to a man who had never found much worth in movement unless it served a purpose.

But his voice—his voice held something else entirely.

Somethingunspoken.

‘The gods can be rather cruel sometimes,’ he whispered, his gaze trailing across the room, heavy with something close to sorrow.

‘What do you mean?’

Kage did not answer. Instead, he turned, slipping from the room without another word.

Mal remained where she was, alone in the dim candlelight, her arms wrapping around herself as her eyes roamed the room—the space Ash had made for her.

The gift that should have felt like a burden, a weight.

Instead, it felt like a kindness.

And as she stood there, staring at the home she had been given in a land that was not her own, she could not help but wonder if her brother was right.

The gods were, indeed, rather cruel.

Some say that the reason that witches and warlocks have purple eyes is to show that we were the very first creations the gods made. Apparently it is a mark, a godly mark.

Nowadays to me it seems more of a curse.

Tabitha Wysteria

---