Page 26 of Tricky Princess
“Do you spy on anyone else?”
“Not lately, not as much as I did when I first started. Things have been quiet this decade—well, until now.”
Until her parents.
She needed in. She would not sit out on whatever was going on. “What’s the plan?”
“Have fun, spy, learn all you can.”
“More training.” Ellea groaned, but she didn’t mean it. “Do you know what the king wants with me?”
Florence huffed a laugh. “Isn’t it obvious?” Ellea shook her head. “He wants you to rule with his son.”
Ellea choked a sputtering laugh. “Why? Did he say that to you? Those exact words?”
Florence cocked her head. “No, but why not?”
Why not? Ellea shook her head, thinking of how mere months ago she was in her small city, reading a romance and avoiding dumb boys and clients. “I’m only a witch, one who spent her days reading and avoiding people besides reading fortunes.” Also avoiding the council, her fears, and a vision of a future that had haunted her since she was young. But she didn’t voice that to Florence. “Now I’m in Hel, and you’re telling me the king expects me to rule with his son one day? We only met and decided to date, like, a month ago.”
Florence was quiet for a moment before she laughed, a loud cackle that shook her small frame. She laughed until Ellea hit her with her pillow. The demon wiped at the tears that had escaped her eyes.
“You are a powerful supernatural. You are not meant to be a lowly fortune teller.” She shook her head again, looking more serious. “My Gods, girl. What were you thinking?
Ellea threw herself down on the bed, looking up at the ornate ceiling.
What was she thinking?
“That I could read, make a ton of money, and not be bothered.”
Florence threw herself down next to her and sighed. “Isn’t that the dream?”
10
Rosier
NINE DAYS WITHOUT ELLEA
Ros was both trying to forget and hold on to the dream that had been plaguing him for a few nights. He and his friends were on a trip to Hel, it wasn’t the time to have visions of Ellea moving under him. They had been trekking through the dense forest for a few hours. Billy and Garm were fine in comfortable silence, while Sam had done nothing but complain. Devon was actually using his time wisely.
He was taking deep, steadying breaths with each step, and shadows flickered around his skin. They weren’t like Ros’, witches held a different type of shadow magic, but creating them was a similar process. The shadows disappeared, but Devon—ever the patient and centered one—didn’t grow frustrated. He looked toward Ros, ready for the next instruction.
“Now that you can find them, you need to understand them.” Shadows lived in the darkest part of the soul. “You need to learn to understand them, why they are there and how to care for them. It’s not like an element you can control—”
“What if you don’t have any darkness?” Sam cut in to ask.
Garm snorted. “We all have darkness, even lap dogs like you, Sam.”
Sam grumbled something under his breath and went back to kicking pine cones.
“As I was saying, you pull them from the darkest part of you, accept and care for them, and then you can utilize them.”
Devon nodded and went back to concentrating on Ros’ instructions. Shadows began to seep and flicker around him again, and he smiled. Devon was so smart and such a fast learner.
“I remember a time when that was considered dark magic,” Billy said.
Ros huffed a breath, trying to forget his vision of witches burning on a pyre and the endless war between mortals and supernaturals. “No magic is dark or bad. It’s the people who wield it for their evil reasons.”
Like Ellea’s parents.
