Page 37 of The Fae Queen's Revenge

“It would be my honor to do so, Your Highness,” the bodyguard replied, his tone taking on a more remote politeness.

Ber could only hope this moment of blind trust wasn’t a fatal error.

Tes saggedin her seat as the healer checked her once again—for the third time since they’d returned to her room. Despite the soothing energy, an itchy burn still consumed her shoulder, and her head still spun. But maybe this session would yield results? Mery was examining her far longer this time.

She sighed when the healing energy began to wane, but just before it cut off, Tes’s symptoms eased. “Wait. It’s getting better.”

Mery’s magic surged. Then it winked out, and the healer stared down at her with a confused frown. “I didn’t do anything, and I don’t sense any change in your body. I don’t understand.”

“Ryssa…” Ria’s voice trailed off as she leaned forward in her seat. “Are you linked to anyone? Like a magical bond?”

A link? Tes winced at the unexpected pain the question brought to her heart. “No. There was some discussion when we were younger, but we never tested the possibility of it working. Ber claimed he struggled enough with the twin bond. I’m guessing he knew he would end up doing something deceitful.”

“I’m sorry,” Ria said softly.

“It’s just as well.” Tes shrugged despite the pain. “In any case, I’ve never felt anything from him, not even after the intensity of our wedding night.”

“But it would make sense,” Mery mused. “And it’s one of the things I’m not particularly adept at detecting. In any other situation, I would have you consult with one of the healers who specialize in links.”

“That would only waste time,” Tes said at once.

In direct counter, a little niggle of doubt wormed its way to the surface of her thoughts. Shehadslept with Ber during her last trip to Centoi. The encounter had been beyond explosive, but could it have been enough to create a link without her realizing it? Normally, she wouldn’t have thought it feasible. In such volatile circumstances, however…

Tes met Ria’s bemused stare. “The possibility is too minute for words.”

Her friend nodded agreeably enough, but her eyes shone with doubt. “And if you’re wrong?”

If she was wrong, it meant… Her breath caught. It meant Ber had been injured. But how badly? Her own symptoms were gone, which suggested he’d been healed, fallen unconscious, or—no. In the case of a link, she would feel if he was dead. Wouldn’t she?

“I need to return to Centoi,” Tes said.

Ria’s expression fell. “But what about your energy levels?”

“I’m tired, but my magic reserves are full enough.” Tes smiled, though in truth, her energy wasn’t optimal. Once the power stored in an artifact was consumed, the bulk of the spell would come from her. But she had no way of knowing precisely how much until she used the ring to teleport once more. “If I’ve miscalculated, I have safe places to go.”

“Why not have Toren ask Ber if something happened?”

“No,” Tes insisted, shaking her head firmly. “That would rouse his suspicions. He doesn’t need to know when I’m truly arriving, remember? This is for the best.”

Although Ria openly protested the plan, she helped Tes prepare a quick travel pack with a couple of loaves of bread, cheese, and dried meat. Then Tes changed into the servant-style dress her friend had created for her before settling the small bag over her shoulder. After a hug from Ria, Tes lifted her hand and pictured the tiny alcove in her dressing room. Her stomach churned at the mental image, but she activated the spell in the ring, anyway.

Time to see what her husband was up to.

Darkness closed around her—andstayed there. Tes clutched her neck, her breathing going shallow at the familiar, bitter-sweet scent of the herbs used to keep the gowns fresh. And the mustiness. Gods, the mustiness of the neglected little alcove nearly hidden at the back. In her grandmother’s time, a servant had been forced to live in this little space to tend constantly to the princess’s clothes, but Tes’s mother had ended that cruelty.

She shifted slightly, and her calf touched the edge of the narrow bed built into the back of a shoe shelf. Her sharp breaths flowed back to her from a wall too near her face, the only realwarmth in the drafty spot. How often had she tried to sleep on that bed, covering herself with the thin blanket the last maid had left behind?

Too often for any child.

Her dress might not have made a sound when she’d moved, but her gasping breaths and pounding heartbeats were so loud that they would surely draw notice.Calm down. It’s been centuries.But that admonition didn’t help. As tremors shook through her, Tes felt behind her for the gap leading into the dressing chamber and then backed slowly through.

The horrid scent of herbs didn’t go away, but once she’d cleared the edge of the gowns, she could breathe a little easier without the mustiness. Tes turned. Light trickled beneath the outer door, casting a faint gray glow over the familiar room. Her hands dropped weakly to her sides as the grip of fear began to loosen.

Everything was just as she had last seen it. On the left wall, a series of massive wardrobes flanked a dressing table, the hairpins she’d left scattered still gleaming atop it. The mirror above the table reflected the barest image of the formal dresses hanging along the right wall. Tes brushed her finger across the nearest gown. Preservation magic still hummed from the cloth, just as it had when the housekeeper had placed the spells nearly a year ago.

Tovom always had liked to plan. She’d been one of the few delights in the palace, her cheer easing the strain of preparing for court functions. At the start of each week, the woman had chosen the week’s gowns. She’d pulled them from the wardrobes, ensured there were no wrinkles, and then hung them in a line. The simple preservation spell had ensured the rich fabric didn’t strain from hanging for so long.

Such care. And now Tes didn’t even know how Tovom fared.

---