“Marry her if you care for her,” I went on, still keeping my voice low, “or if you want to raise a family with her and grow old with her. Marry her if she is who your heart desires. But don’t marry her for me. I could not bear it.” I gave him a rueful smile. “I would rather die in the Challenging than live knowing I was to blame for that.”
He watched me, saying nothing. I could see the words forming in his throat—the protests, the promises, the guilt, the weight of my life on his shoulders.
Finally, his hand rose to mine, curling around my fingers and pulling them from his lips. “Show me you can use your magic. Prove to me you can defend yourself, and I’ll reject the bargain.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Is this another one of your attempts to bribe me into surviving?”
He leaned in closer. “If that’s what it takes.”
I looked over at the others. Alixe and Teller talked quietly between the occasional glance, while Eleanor and Lily were cuddled into Taran’s hips, the three of them no longer bothering to pretend they weren’t watching. The ladies were all but swooning, eyes practically glowing with hope, but Taran’s expression was more reserved. His hard stare simmered with the confrontation we’d had at my last training. A request, and a warning, not to be careless with his best friend’s heart.
“Let’s get started then,” I said. “Can’t be late for my fancy Corbois lunch.” I backed away from Luther and swore as I nearly toppled over the pool of fabric at my feet. I fumbled with the cape fastenings at my chest. “What am I learning today?”
“Shielding.” Luther took the clasps from my struggling hands, unsnapping them with ease. I shivered at the graze of his rough hands over my bare shoulders as he slid the cape off me and set it aside. “If you can’t shield, you’ll be dead in minutes. If you can, you can wear them down and buy yourself time to plan.”
“Survive first,” Teller called out. “Father would approve.”
I nodded. “I think I might have accidentally shielded once before. A Descended man attacked me in Mortal City, and he—”
“What?” Luther’s face darkened. His magic pulsed across the dungeon like a shockwave, sending our friends staggering back a few steps and coaxing my own godhood to lift its head. “When did this happen?”
“It’s nothing.” I shrugged it off, though the memory of the gruesome murder provoked a wave of fresh regret. If only I had known then what I was, what I was capable of, I could have saved the mortal woman and her half-mortal son from their brutal deaths. “It happened before the Crown, when I was a mortal.”
“You were never a mortal,” Taran shouted.
“I’m as much mortal as I am Descended,” I shot back. “And unlike the rest of Lumnos City, I have no intention of ignoring the mortal blood that runs in my veins.”
Taran grinned. “There’s the spitfire I’ve been missing.”
“Who was he?” Luther snapped, still looking furious. “Why did he attack you?”
“I don’t know his name. He discovered a child he had fathered with a mortal woman there. He came to…” I trailed off, and Luther’s face fell as he pieced together the rest. “I was too late.”
I knew Luther would blame himself for it as surely as I did. He had made himself the champion of the half-mortal children, and every death he could not prevent sat heavy on his shoulders.
Perhaps Lily was right—perhaps Luther and I did have more in common than I realized.
“And you were able to shield yourself from his magic?” Alixe asked.
“I think so. He was only a few feet away when he attacked, but somehow I wasn’t hurt. I must have shielded myself without realizing.”
Taran barked a loud laugh. “And that didn’t tip you off that you were Descended? How deeply in denial were you?”
“You have no idea,” Luther muttered.
Alixe strode forward, focusing her attention on me. “Normally, when we use our magic to attack, we shape it into weapons, like taking a lump of ore and crafting it into a blade. When we use it to shield, we simply rely on the raw magic itself. We pull it around us in its purest form.”
I thought back to when my magic first manifested years ago, when I believed it to be a wild hallucination. Whenever I was scared or sad, I would curl up into a blanket of shadow. My family would spend hours searching for me, calling my name from inches away where I appeared to be nothing more than a dark, empty corner.
How strange that it was in the darkness I had felt the safest. Perhaps the dark had not loomed quite so ominously when I believed the light was mine to wield, never more than a thought away.
“Try it,” Alixe urged. “Imagine drawing your magic out without trying to shape it. Allow it to simply exist outside of your body.”
I closed my eyes and took a few centering breaths. I willed my mind to turn inward in search of my elusive godhood. Come out to play, I begged it. Show me what you can do.
Something within me stirred, a tingling sensation deep in my chest, but each time I reached for it, I swiped through empty air. It seemed to be stalling, lying in wait for me to say or do something more.
I huffed out a frustrated breath. “It’s still not answering me. I can feel it in there, but it won’t do anything.”
“Keep trying,” Alixe pushed.
I looked over at Luther, rattled by the disquiet on his face as he watched. If I failed now, my life would be at risk—but his would be ruined.
A life bound to a woman who wanted to use him for his titles and his power, a woman who believed his scars made him weak.
Anger boiled in my veins. If I failed, I would condemn him to a lifetime with a Queen Consort who, even after years at his side, did not really see him.
And you will lose him forever, my mind whispered.
“Help me,” I said to him. “At the King’s funeral, you drew the magic out. You made it react.”
He shook his head. “I did nothing. You did it then, and you can do it again now.”
I held my hand out. “Help me, Luther.”
He stared at it for a long beat. His muscles bunched, but he held himself back.
I cleared my throat. “Do you want to marry Iléana or not?” I asked loudly.
“Wait—what?” Taran barked.
Eleanor blinked. “Did she say—”
“Oh, no,” Lily gasped.
Alixe looked amused.
Teller said nothing, though he studied me curiously.
Luther’s eyes narrowed at me, and I bit my lip to mask my smile. “I know how to find ways to motivate you, too, Prince.”
He leaned in close. “Truly devious, Your Majesty.”
I grinned, and he grinned back, and for a heartbeat, the sun seemed to swoop down from the sky and fill the dungeon with its fiery, jubilant glow.
“Help me,” I said again.
His back straightened, his smile falling away as his broad jaw slowly rose. A new expression settled over his face—dominant, steadfast, dark with threat in a way that sent heat rushing to my skin. It wasn’t the Prince—but it wasn’t quite the Luther I was used to, either. In fact, I’d only ever seen this look on him once before…