And slowly, the queen’s smile faded. If Kestrel didn’t know any better, that was the glimmer of doubt replacing it.
It only served to fuel Kestrel’s rage more. If the queen was doubting, that meant the magic hadn’t worked, and this poor creature had died for nothing.
Kestrel’s feet were moving before she was even aware. She stormed toward her aunt, an inferno brewing inside of her. She snatched the rabbit from her torturous grasp, not knowing whyor what she was doing, only that she didn’t want the queen anywhere near this poor creature. It deserved at least that much…
It deserved so much more.
It deserved the life that should’ve been before it. Frolicking through fields and nibbling on greens. Or returning to its family one day—human or otherwise.
As Kestrel marched down the long hallway, she began to sob, clutching the rabbit’s soft fur against her chest. It wasn’t fair. She hadn’t had enough time to think. To act. She should’ve stopped Signe. She wished she could undo it all, reverse time so that the blade had never even pierced its flesh, and she would’ve taken the rabbit and run.
Kestrel heard a sound then. Something that could only be described as the reverse of tearing. Something growing. Re-knitting.
Halfway down the long hall, Kestrel stopped.
Blood was no longer dripping between her fingers.
Cautiously, Kestrel flipped the rabbit around in her hands so that it was facing upward. The fur was still stained red, but she gasped at the sight of its stomach. There, in the center of the creature’s abdomen, the flesh was perfectly woven back together, as if there had never been a wound there to begin with.
Her wide eyes flew behind her, searching for answers from the only person available to give them.
Signe had already snuck up on her and was standing behind her, gazing at the rabbit over her shoulder.
“A healer,” Queen Signe breathed, a hint of intrigue to her tone. Intrigue and vindication. “That is precisely what the cursed ones need.”
Pride trickled in between the cracks left behind by the sorrow and rage. Kestrel looked back down at the rabbit,hopeful that maybe she had finally done something right. That she had finally saved someone instead of being the one who always needed saving. Maybe this magic could be used for good if it could do things like return life to the innocent. To heal such violent wounds.
But the rabbit’s black eyes stared blankly up at the ceiling.
The creature did not breathe again.
As if sensing her disappointment, the queen tutted. “It’s a start, my darling. You’ll grow more powerful with time. You just need more practice?—”
“Practice?”
Kestrel could see it now. All the animals in the cages around them, lined up and awaiting her blade. One by one, she was meant to kill them. To try to bring them back.
Only what if it didn’t work? How many innocent lives was she expected to claim?
“Yes, well, no one masters magic the first time they?—”
Kestrel’s rageful scream cut the queen off, and she tore from the hallway like a cyclone, rabbit and dagger still in hand.
Chapter 26
What Happens by the Fountain…
ELORA
After meeting with the prince and the queen, Elora had needed some fresh air. What she craved was the scent of the mocking laceflowers of Eynallore. They were known more for their deadly beauty, their creamy white petals resembling the intricately sewn lace of a doily but with a surprisingly sharp cut should anyone dare graze them.
For that reason, most people avoided them.
Not Elora.
Before, back when she had been free, she would frequently sit along the outskirts of a field of mocking laceflowers and inhale their sweet, delicate aroma.
The closest thing Irongate had were the jasmine flowers out in their garden. Now that she was free from the dungeon, whenever Elora found herself heart-stricken and homesick, she would spend as much time as she could out there, near the jasmine and tulips.
