Page 164 of Burn Her They Said
“Interested in learning more about the Harvest Festival?” She gestures toward the book.
“Oh, I hadn’t considered the festival might be mentioned. More general curiosity.”
“Mm,” she says, removing the book from my grasp to flip to a section toward the end. “Here, this should fulfill your curiosity, generally.” Her eyes sparkle as she utters the last word, turning to leave with a smile.
Fray moves closer to Lars and me, claiming, “She likes you.” He stares down at the book, which I promptly slam shut, tucking it beneath my arm after memorizing the page number to reference later.
“She pities me.”
“No one pities you.” Varic moves closer than he should, to which I shift to the side, effectively backing myself into the corner of the bookcase. “If anything, they admire you.”
My chest fills with the warmth only felt in Varic’s presence, sending me his admiration, which flows like gentle waves through my power, tinged with that pinkish-red amber.
“Best behavior.” Lars clears his throat and tilts his head toward the Emperor.
His Majesty glares in our direction as he walks by us, and my heart drops to my stomach as I have not complied with his demand. I acknowledge him with a nod and maintain eye contact until he abandons the connection to animatedly converse with an Annovian Army General.
“Here.” Varic reaches for the book braced beneath my arm, which I promptly hand to him, then force my gaze to stray from the subtle smile he shares with me.
“Now that you have enjoyed our tour of the Royal Annovian Library, there is one more room I would like to show you before you retire for the evening.” The Queen spins to exit the library with Lanska and her guards following.
The rest of our party lines up behind the Emperor when an Annovian servant approaches Varic. I strain to hear as he says he will deliver the book I have selected to my guest suite.
My chest constricts from the way he stares at Varic in wonder while my Lead Guard offers him what must seem to be his undivided attention. I pull in a breath and allow a small smile to tug the corner of my mouth, as this is an experience I know well—with the way those eyes peer into your soul until it seems you are the only two beings left alive on the Continent, proving there is no hope for me to become less distracted when his magnetism is capable of enchanting a perfect stranger.
The servant backs away with his gaze trained on Varic, bracing the book he handed him like a piece of treasure. Whereas Varic doesn’t seem to notice when he turns back to me, and I send my magic over to learn what the servant is feeling. It is no surprise admiration and appreciation swirl at the surface, while pride fills my chest from the reminder of who Varic really is—especially when he is safe to be his natural, kind self, while expressing a genuine sense of gratitude toward the servant. Behaving like the sorcerer he is beneath all the armor he must wear to protect me and others.
How am I to reconcile how Varic has sacrificed the life where he was able to be more himself, to now be constantly watching for signs of anyone who might wish me harm? How am I to do anything other than admire his bravery when he could have refused to play the Emperor’s games? I can’t. No matter how gruff he may seem, I cannot forget the compassionate sorcerer underneath.
Cirrin knocks his shoulder into mine. “Can you imagine having access to all of those stories? All of this information in one place?”
Cirrin peers around the room as we move to leave it. “Can I imagine a world wherein our Emperor allows servants and citizens alike to access a library’s worth of information, rather than the twenty or so texts allowed outside of those locked away with our scribes and the Imperial Priest’s?”
“No. It doesn’t feel real here, either. Though now that I’ve seen it,”—I scan the backs of the heads of the Emperor’s Guards, gauging my safety in saying the next words—“living under such control makes anything freer seem like a dream.”
Cirrin nods, holding his head high with a small smile still playing across his lips.
Then my own mouth quirks to the side with the sense of loss overtaking me, with our harmless interaction exemplifying how the ease with which we converse could exist. Grieving for who we could be, were we allowed to simply exist.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Ballroom
Nothing could have prepared me for the glamour of the ballroom.
Crystal chandeliers drip from the mural on the ceiling, where the God of Frivolity plays his lyre over the deep green fabric of his tunic. He wears a playful expression while his tall frame lounges on a throne of bright, puffy clouds. Sunbeams illuminate his blond curls, and the bright blue of his eyes matches the hue of the sky behind him. In contrast, the floor mimics a beautiful night sky, with an opalescent moon and stars shining back from within the darkened wood.
Floor-to-ceiling mirrors adorn the nearest wall, showing everyone who pays attention just how unabashedly Varic stares at me in the reflection.
Her Royal Highness strides to the center of the dance floor before turning around to face us. She holds her hands out to gesture around the grand room while her witches-in-waiting form a semi-circle of support behind her back.
“Welcome to our esteemed ballroom, where so many celebrations have been held through the generations.” Her eyes dart over to the doorway we just entered, though no one is there. Her smile broadens as she raises her hand in announcement. “While the next event I hope to host in this space will be my son’s wedding.”
I turn and follow her line of sight, and my heart constricts when Prince Auden strides in. He moves with a confident fluidity, and barely a crease in his fine Annovian blue uniform. Each step he takes is carefully synchronized with his two broad guards, who make his tall frame appear small by comparison. Several strands of his straight black hair fall over his forehead, while his dimpled smile widens the closer he moves toward his mother. His hazel eyes appear nearly as keen as hers, staring out from beneath striking black brows which angle upward at the edges. He greets the guests with a winning smile, nodding with affection to a select few before he turns to me, and our gazes lock. He makes a show of craning his neck to maintain our eye contact until he must turn and bow to his mother.
Heat radiates from Varic’s form as a tendril of my magic snakes its way toward him. His grim expression twists my stomach, and the distress he is feeling sours it. I gather all the joy I experienced while spinning around the library, and imbue him with the same, hoping it might help to temper his upset.
My focus shifts between the Emperor, the Queen, and Varic as every muscle in my body tenses, waiting for magic to detect that his distress has lessened. Heart kicking at my ribs from how long the joy is taking to have the intended effect, until his shoulders finally relax.
