Page 60 of The Witch Queen
“It’s a biography of the first female General of Thayaria. She was a formidable warrior, but also a brilliant strategist. Nemesia never shuts up about her. And she also happened to be fun-sized like Silene.”
“There are actual war strategies in here!” she exclaims. “And fighting techniques for someone with a smaller stature. Thank you!” I smile as she starts reading immediately, then I stand and walk to the bar cart in the corner to refill my mug with more tea.
“I have a gift for you as well,” Thorne says from behind me, and I jump. He’s so good at sneaking up on me. He hands me a small parcel wrapped in cream and navy parchment. My heart flutters at the sight of his signature colors. I set the mug down on the bar cart, then tentatively take the gift from him. I open it to find a delicate and finely crafted gold necklace of a lightning bolt. I look up at him expectantly. “Channeling lightning is the hardest of the light magic because it’s so unpredictable,” he tells me, eyes locked on mine in an intense gaze. “It requires the wielder to give up control, to trust that even if the path it takes down from the sky isn’t what we would have imagined, it will still strike where we want it to.” I swallow, keeping my eyes on his handsome face. “May I?” he asks, gesturing to the necklace and then my neck. I nod.
He takes the necklace out of my hands, then stands behind me. I feel his breath on the nape of my neck as he gently moves my hair to the side, and my back arches toward him just slightly, something akin to lightning striking in my core. He brings the necklace over my head. As he clasps it, he continues his explanation, voice a delicious low tenor.
“The sun is the symbol of my father, of the throne of Velmara. But the lightning bolt is also a reminder to him and to everyone in Velmara that the real power lies with those who channel true light. Those who oppose his rule wear a lightning bolt as a small act of rebellion.” His hands rest on my shoulders now, thumbs rubbing gentle strokes across the fabric of my gown. He leans down and whispers in my ear. “I wanted you to have this lightning bolt to remind you to let go and to bring a piece of resistance against my father with you wherever you go.” I shiver as he moves away, feeling the absence of warmth where his hands once were. I touch the necklace, and I swear it sparks under my fingers. Thorne turns me to face him. With slow, intentional movements, he takes my cup from the table, fills it with tea and cream, then hands it back to me, his gaze never leaving mine. “Happy Solstice, witchling,” he says, practically a growl. I’m speechless, so touched by his gift that I have no words.
I remember the gift I found for him and awkwardly walk away, muttering “stay here.” I grab my bag, then cross the room toward him, where he stands leaning against the wall with that effortless grace I’ve grown so accustomed to. “My gift is really just a loan, because you have to give it back.” He raises an eyebrow, and I hand him the ancient and massive book on thayar.
“This is Thayaria’s oldest and most comprehensive text on thayar flowers. Well, it’s a copy that I had made so I could annotate it. I read it often. Every day, pretty much, and centuries of my notes on the flower are in there, along with places where I’ve added information from my experience with the aether and the flower. I thought… I thought maybe you’d like to read it to see what your father might be up to. Fresh eyes and all that. It seems silly compared to your gift, but it’s all I had in my room at the moment…” My cheeks heat, voice rising higher and higher as I speak.
He cuts me off, placing his hand on my arm. The touch burns deliciously where his fingers trail over my skin. “It’s perfect. I’ll read it thoroughly and treat it with care. And I cannot begin to tell you how excited I am to see notes from a young Laurel. Thank you for trusting me with it.”
I look into his eyes, and they bore into me. He always seems to see right down to my very core. It’s infuriating. It’s thrilling. It’severything.I can’t look away, and it’s only when Fionn makes a pointed cough in our direction that I realize we’ve been standing there, staring at one another for who knows how long. I shuffle back to my pouf and sit down, eyes decidedlynoton Thorne as he returns to his own seat.
Laurel
There are many traditions and myths about the Winter Solstice. Each kingdom has their own practices, from resting for two weeks to exchanging gifts. One of the most beloved of Winter Solstice legends is that of fae mates, who are compelled to give their mate a Solstice gift that once belonged to them. Some trinket or object that holds significance or meaning, given to the fae’s mate for safekeeping. Many young lovers will practice the tradition on Winter Solstice, lost in the myth’s romanticism. But fae mates, if they ever existed, are now nothing more than fables told to spark joy on a holiday.
The Legends of the Fae, Volume III
In the early afternoon, I return to my room to prepare for dinner. After running a bath, I set my travel makeup and metal pins on my vanity. But I keep the necklace on as I dip into the steaming water. I run over every moment with Thorne, still so confused by him. One moment he’s flippantly flirting, treating me no differently than every other female he’s encountered in Thayaria. Then in the next moment, he’s looking at me with a deep longing that goes beyond simple attraction. His relationship with Silene is so baffling. He clearly cares deeply for her, but whether that’s as a friend, a lover, or something in between, I cannot sort out. He says they’re just friends, but with everything the rumors say about him, how could I possibly trust that? I stay in the bath until the water turns tepid, staring out at the barren landscape through the window, lost in thought.
Lunaria startles me out of my stupor, stalking into the room and staring at me as if to say, time to get moving. I get out of the tub, dressing myself in a simple silk gown that hugs my body, the color matching Thorne’s eyes. I keep the lightning necklace on, adding only a set of simple earrings and black elbow-length gloves to complete the look. My hair hangs long and wavy, front pieces pulled into a twist that keeps it out of my face, and my makeup is light and airy.
When I aerstep into the massive dining hall that’s rarely used, it too has been transformed by Silene. In addition to the overgrown vines that line the palace, there are lights everywhere. Glowing strings swoop down from the high ceiling, while gossamer navy fabric drapes under them. The effect is that when you look up, it’s like you’re looking up at the night sky. Twinkling lights also hang down the walls, interspersed with the creeping ivy.
A single long dining table runs down the length of the space, decorated with more lights and arrangements of cut flowers from the greenhouse. Bright yellows, pinks, reds, and blues are interspersed with dark green, giving the decor a look that is wholly at odds with how Thayarian affairs usually look. From the front of the room, smells of garlic, onion, meat, and freshly baked bread waft from a buffet table lined with covered dishes. The cooks are dressed up though, socializing and drinking like everyone else. Silene must have organized it this way so everyone could take part.
Across the room, Thorne speaks with Aria, his prince charming act out in full force. His eyes twinkle with mirth as he says something to her, giving her a smirk that I’m all too familiar with. He’s clad in a navy suit, perfectly tailored to show off the hard lines of his body. Aria’s hand is on his arm, and she laughs brightly, leaning into him. He winks. Hot jealousy spikes through me, and I stalk toward them.
“Thorne,” I say, placing my hand on his shoulder. “Thank you for coming tonight.” Aria looks at me with the briefest flash of annoyance before she bows.
“Your Majesty,” she says, “what an excellent idea the Velmarans had for this Winter Solstice. I dare say His Highness must have had a hand in these arrangements. The Velmarans are known for their own lavish dinner parties, I hear.” She flashes a pretty grin at Thorne, eyelashes fluttering, and it makes my magic rear up with ferocity. I crush it, not willing to let the room shake with my power and give away my feelings.You like Aria. She’s a good advisor.The reminder doesn’t help the feeling of my skin crawling.
Thorne looks my way, lust briefly flashing in his gaze as it drifts across my body, landing on the necklace. He grins at me, an intimate, half twist of his lips, like there’s a secret between us, before he turns back to Aria. A satisfied warmth creeps over my body, calming my magic.
“Oh, I had no hand in this whatsoever,” he admits. “I confess I usually hate the Velmaran dinner parties. It’s all to the credit of my advisor, Miss Kalmeera. And, of course, Her Majesty. This wouldn’t have been possible without Queen Laurel’s agreement to Silene’s schemes. You should extend your praises to them.” I can’t help but note that he referred to Silene as only an advisor.
“I see,” Aria says, realizing Thorne has dismissed her. “Well, I will go find Miss Kalmeera and offer her my thanks.”
When she’s out of earshot, Thorne turns to me. His eyes slowly travel the length of my body, like he’s drinking me in, and it sets my skin ablaze. “You look stunning,” he growls. I blush. “And my necklace suits you.”
“Yournecklace?” I ask, confused. Thorne looks sheepish.
“Well, uh, it was mine. But I wanted you to have it.”
“Why?” My eyes search his, but he’s spared from answering by Silene’s appearance at our side.
“Laurel, we’re about to start. Do you want to say anything?” she asks. I nod, then leave with her to address the room, mind still whirring from Thorne’s revelation and the way it stirs something inside me, something that feels ancient.
“Welcome to the first Winter Solstice dinner,” I say loudly to the group gathered for the dinner. “While the circumstances that led to this event were deeply upsetting, I’m happy to have this opportunity with all of you. As we dine tonight, please remember the lives we lost last week. Remember their families. Enjoy tonight and know that you’re welcome here in Thayaria’s palace. It’s your home as much as it’s mine. And please, join me in thanking our Velmaran emissaries, whose idea and planning led to this evening.” The crowd of human and fae, children and adults, bow to me, then clap for the Velmarans, and the sight is remarkable. I’m overcome with the vision of a future where dinners like this are common in Thayaria, both at the palace and around the kingdom. I raise my wine glass. “Happy Solstice!” I toast. The crowd echoes my toast, then breaks into the murmur of conversation.
Servants dressed in their own fancy gowns and suits uncover serving dishes with food before returning to the party, and Silene shoos people to go make plates.
“Your Majesty, you look beautiful,” Carex says as he approaches me.
