Page 74 of A Queen's Game
“What are you talking about?” she asked, observing her unmarred skin and dress. “I didn’t let it hurt me.”
Sylas swore and sat forward in his chair. “And you never touched aithyr before just now?”
“No, but I felt it all around us. I could see what it looked like. Through here—” Elyse sat forward, tracing the strong current of aithyr with her arm “—there was a big stream. I just tried a smaller stream that was closer, though.”
Brynden stared at her with his mouth agape. The other males held similar expressions.
“What?”
“Gyrsh is a bloody liar. Your talent could outshine your mother’s,” Sylas stated. “Even with drugs, most mages can’t get that clear of a reading on aithyr, let alone on their first time. Can you create the flames again? And hold it as you did?”
Elyse nodded, focusing on the aithyr once more. That time, she dipped into the strong current, expecting its strength and pulling out a small amount of energy. Like before, she imagined her hand lit in flame and transferred the energy.
Flames licked up her sleeve, heat encompassing her skin but it did not burn.
Bryden reached out his hand to the flame. “It’s not an illusion, Sylas,” he said, laughing.
“Elyse, can you toss it up and catch it back in your hand?” Sylas asked, his brows furrowed with his attention locked on her.
She bit her tongue as she tossed her hand, focusing on the energy. The flames formed a ball as she tossed it in the air, catching it as it fell.
“Well, I’ll be damned.” Sylas sat back in his chair, confusion mixed with his scowl as he regarded Elyse.
She let the flames sputter out as the aithyr she held burnt away. “What does this mean?”
“It means I’ll have the most beautiful and most talented wife,” Brynden said. “That was incredible.”
Elyse turned to Brynden with wide eyes, his words registering. He winked before pulling her close to him, his scent and touch mixing with excitement in her chest.
Brynden intended to marry her.
The afternoon wore on with Brynden, Sylas, and Oryck calling out different ways to manipulate aithyr, Daryn consciously remaining quiet. She summoned water, like Brynden, and a wind that blew back his hair. Sylas challenged her to try an illusion—changing the clothing she wore. Her ability to keep using aithyr faltered after an afternoon of effort, and she could change only the color to black.
The effects of Mage’s Eye wore off, but Elyse’s mood remained light and cheery, slipping into easy conversation.
Brynden called for food and drink, and servants arrived with a platter of olives, cheeses, bread, and meats. They also brought carafes of dark red wine, filling their glasses to the brim.
Elyse picked around the meat, catching Oryck’s attention. “Not a fan of goat?”
“Oh, I don’t eat meat,” she answered, taking a sip of the tart and full-bodied wine.
“Why’s that?” Sylas asked between bites.
She hesitated, turning to Brynden.
“Is there a reason?” he asked.
“The scent and flavor make my stomach churn,” she offered a tight-lipped smile to Brynden, who gave her a curious look but didn’t press further.
Not long after, the sun dipped below the roofline, casting the courtyard in the shade. Brynden clapped his hands. “Well, my friends, I think Elyse and I have done our due diligence on being chaperoned. Now, if you will excuse us, I have a surprise for her upstairs.”
Sylas tried to scowl, but a smile cracked through. “Have fun, don’t be too long. We have a meeting tonight.”
Brynden swatted a hand at him as he led Elyse inside the townhouse.
Chapter Thirty-One
Elyse
