“It radiates power,” she whispered.
I pushed it closer to her. “Please. Keep it.”
She clutched it close to her chest. “Thank you.”
I blew out a soft breath, trying to diffuse the thick air between us. “On a different topic, it seems I will be having a meeting very shortly with my aunt and two other advisors.” I gestured at my room. “I need to clean up a bit before they arrive.”
She nodded, shaking off a little more of the charged moment. “I heard through the wall. I’ll be quick. I know you don’t have any good reason to trust me, but—”
I cut her off. “I have many good reasons to trust you.”
She tightened her fingers around the hilt of the knife and took a bracing breath. “Still, this will sound manipulative. But I promise it’s not. I just want to tell you what I saw.”
Now I wascurious.
She talked faster. “Your aunt’s magic is the same color as the tendrils I saw darkening the rose’s pink magic. That pink magic is undiluted fae magic. I’m certain of it now. The dark purple—I’m not so certain. But your aunt’s magic is the same color.”
Her words came even faster now, like she was afraid of running out of time or getting interrupted. “That doesn’t reallymeananything, and I want more time to think about it, but I wanted you to know in case she goes down there again by herself. There are only so many colors, so sometimes I see the same color for lots of different things, but I don’t like how it’s the same color as magic that I thought was fae, but maybe isn’t, and definitely had a malevolent feeling to it. Also—”
She paused for a breath, my mind started to process the things she’d said.
After one quick breath, though, she started again. “Also, the colors I see have a kind of movement to them. Magic doesn’t hold still—it sort of vibrates. And her magic had a similar vibration to it as yours, and both of your magics harmonized with the magic in the rose. I don’t know if it means anything. The only people I’ve seen with magic before I came here were Motab and Alastor, but I’ve seen enough elven magic here now to recognize the difference in fae and elf and… well, there’s a kind of harmony in your family’s magic and the tree.”
I put up a hand. “Slow down, Callista. I think I know what you’re seeing.”
She raised her brows, and I almost laughed. Her curiosity was as intriguing as her unpredictability.
“My family has a connection with the rose tree,” I explained. “It is tied to the ruling line, and each new king bonds with it when he takes the throne. But a portion of the power it gives us is passed to our children, soAcantha would have received some as the daughter of my grandfather. I received a portion when I was born, as the son of Fintan, the ruling king. My own bond with the plant ties our magic together.”
She raised her chin and lowered it slowly as she paid close attention to my words. “Magic is an unpredictable thing,” I added. “I don’t know why everything always works the way it does, but I am not surprised to hear that her magic, mine, and the rose have things in common.”
Hints of anxiety brushed against the edges of my awareness—heranxiety brushed againstmyawareness of the mistek bond between us. I searched for signs of stress in her face, but could not find any. “Is something wrong?” I asked.
“I hope not,” she said, “but you need to prepare for your meeting. I’ll leave you to it.”
“Callista!” My hand jumped out to grab her elbow, but I stopped before I touched her. Still, she turned back around and raised a brow.
“Will you tell me what worries you, please?”
That brow arched even higher. “What worries me? Why do you assume—” She cut off and pressed a hand to her heart. “The bond. You can tell.”
I nodded. “Is it so wrong that I would like the opportunity to alleviate your anxiety?”
She smiled. “Not wrong at all. But I am trying to think before I speak and save my thoughts for the most appropriate time.”
I smiled back. “But I like hearing your thoughts.”
“Do you?” She wrapped both hands around the dagger hilt. “I’m afraid I tend to reprimand you.”
“I doubt you were holding back a reprimand just now.”
“No,” her voice dropped to a whisper. “I was not.”
“Please tell me. Surely I can help.”
Her eyes darted to the hall door in her room and then back to me. “Your aunt scares me.”
My stomach twisted at her confession. She was only here because of me, and I hated that she felt the need to fear anyone in my fortress.
