Page 84 of Love & Letter Charms
Then his lips brushed against her neck, just below her ear, and she stopped playing entirely. Her hands trembled above the keys as delicious shivers cascaded through her body. A tidal wave of exquisite intensity that she could not bring herself to pull away from.
She was leaning into him now, almost cradled against his chest, his arm curved securely around her, fingers tangled in her hair, while his other hand found hers upon the keys, enclosing it in a warm, unyielding hold. His head shifted, mouth above her ear, and she felt him sigh into her hair. “I want,” he whispered on a shuddering breath, “to choose you.”
And in an instant, the spell shattered. Feeling flooded her, too much, too fast, splintering through her chest until she couldhardly breathe. She rushed to free herself from his hold, pushing herself backward off the bench, hands finding the edge of the pianoforte as she steadied herself.
“Aurelise—”
“No—I—I cannot—” She struggled for breath, refusing to look at him, both hands rising to press against her flushed cheeks.
“Please,” he said, something desperate in his tone. “I’m sorry if I?—”
His words cut off abruptly, and there was … something. A shift. A change in the atmosphere. The very air around them seemed to ripple and bend, as though reality itself had become uncertain.
Aurelise lowered her hands, finally finding the courage to meet Prince Ryden’s gaze, and what she saw there made her breath catch. Like her, he was still flushed, breathless, but his eyes held something else entirely. A wild, desperate fear she did not understand. His blue eyes were darkening, deepening into something that seemed to swallow light, and the air around him shimmered like heat waves rising from sun-baked stone.
“You need to go,” he said, and his voice cracked with barely controlled panic. “Now. Please.”
Despite her own thundering heart and the overwhelming sensations still coursing through her, Aurelise recognized true distress when she saw it. “What’s wrong?” she asked, taking an instinctive step toward him rather than away.
But he was already shaking his head frantically, backing away from her. “Please go, please go, before I—” His hands flew to his mouth, pressing hard against his lips as though desperate to contain something that threatened to escape. The gesture was so vulnerable, so frightened, that it pierced straight through her own turmoil.
Music began to spill from her without conscious thought, notes cascading into the air in shimmering ribbons of sound. The air grew hotter, heavier, pressing against her skin with an almost physical weight. He was trembling now, his whole body shaking as he continued to retreat. It was pure instinct that drove her forward, ignoring his desperate protests, ignoring the strange heat that made her skin prickle.
“No, don’t—” he gasped, but she was already there, wrapping her arms around his trembling form and pulling him tight against her.
She squeezed her eyes shut and let the music pour out of her completely. It filled the room like water filling a vessel, surrounding them both in long, sweeping currents of sound—a low, resonant hum, like cello strings vibrating beneath a bow drawn slowly back and forth. Each tone thrummed through the air, deep and steady, grounding, the kind of sound onefeltas much as heard.
She breathed slowly, deliberately, and gradually she felt him begin to match her rhythm. His chest rose and fell against hers, the frantic pace slowing to something more measured. His arms came up around her, and she felt him press his face against her hair, drawing deep, slow breaths as the strange heat finally began to dissipate, leaving behind only the warmth of their embrace.
The music gradually faded to whispers, then to silence. They stood there, wrapped around each other in the quiet afternoon light, the rest of the world forgotten.
“What,” she asked shakily against his shoulder, “just happened?”
He did not pull away, did not release his desperate hold on her. When he spoke, his voice was rough, exhausted. “My … authority magic. It surges sometimes. Out of control. Without warning.” She felt him swallow hard. “It is not supposed to dothat. I’ve often wondered if it’s some form of divine punishment for the circumstances of my birth, or if my magic would have been chaos regardless.”
Part of her wanted to draw back so she could look at him, but there was something so blissfullyrightabout being wrapped in his embrace—despite the whirlwind of sensation still coursing through her and the chaos that had just unfolded in this room.
“I’ve been terrified of it for so long,” he continued, the words pouring out like a confession. “It has caused terrible tragedy. I told you Ellian’s death was an accident. I told you my father’s—the Crown Consort’s—death was the same. Neither was true.”
Aurelise went very still in his arms.
“Ellian’s death was orchestrated to appear accidental, but I discovered the truth. It was my father who arranged it. He finally faced the fact that my mother loved another, that I was living proof of his inadequacy—and he could not bear it.”
His voice dropped to barely a whisper. “I confronted him. We were in the skies, on pegasi, and he was taunting me, saying …” He trailed off, exhaling against her hair. “Terrible things. We began fighting. There was magic streaking back and forth. He … struck me. My authority magic had been on the verge of manifesting that entire Season, and in that moment, as we were yelling at one another, it erupted from me without warning. And when I yelled at him to get away from me … my magic carried out the command.”
She felt him shudder against her.
“It flung both him and his pegasus from the sky.” The prince’s voice broke entirely, shuddering as he added, “And I have been trying to control it ever since.”
They remained like that, suspended in silence, time slipping away as Aurelise tried to take in the weight of what Prince Ryden revealed. Finally, he drew back enough to look down at her, hiseyes rimmed with exhaustion and something like wonder. “You calmed it. How did you do that?”
“I think,” she said unsteadily, peering up into his eyes, “my magic can do for others what it does for me. Bring peace. Calm. Serenity. It stopped that chandelier in the Green Drawing Room from chattering. Not a pleasant melody as your mother was imagining, but complete stillness. And it brought calm to the chaos in the kitchens. It seemed to positively influence everyone’s mood after my performance at the musicale we had here earlier on in the Season. And now … this.”
“It’s you,” he breathed, and his voice was thick with emotion, with a kind of desperate relief. “Stars above, it has been you all this time.”
She shook her head slightly, confusion pulling at her brow. “What has been me?”
His hands came up to frame her face, thumbs brushing over her cheekbones with infinite tenderness. “I need to tell you something. The truth about the Crown Court. About why my mother truly brought you all here.”
