He raises them in surrender like he has no intention of dishonoring me, and then he scoops me up and carries me across the room. To his credit, he’s an absolute gentleman, and once we clear the doorway, he deposits me gently onto the carpet.

My bedroom is now full of people, including a cleaning staff who’ve arrived to sweep up my mess. Cyan appears in the doorway with Linden and Anemone in tow—they’re all barely dressed—and I’m pretty sure I’ve just interrupted something.

“What happened?” Cyan asks with genuine concern. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” I say. The glass left a few small cuts on my arms and legs, but they’ll heal quickly, and other than my wounded pride, I’m fine. “I’ll be okay.”

“What were you doing?” Linden asks, understandably suspicious. I just tore apart an entire bathroom and can’t really claim I was up to nothing. I’ll have to come clean. Ha. Pun intended.

“I was practicing my magic,” I say, hating that I have to reveal any measure of vulnerability to them.

Cyan raises an eyebrow. “You have no control over it?”

“I’m . . . I’ve got some.”

“Why?”

It’s a fair question.

I look around the room, conscious of the guards and staff moving in and out. None of the others seem the least bit bothered that we’re all half-dressed.

“Could we talk about this later?” I ask, hoping to buy myself some time to come up with a story that isn’t completely the truth but sounds good enough. “I’m really very tired.”

Cyan’s eyes darken, but he doesn’t argue. “Very well. We’ll get you a new room.”

“Thank you,” I say as he rattles off instructions to one of his staff. Then I’m escorted to a new suite similar to the one I just destroyed. Cyan, Linden, and Anemone follow me, and I turn to face them, still clutching the towel around me.

“Tomorrow, you will be explaining why you just blew a hole in my palace,” Cyan says pleasantly enough, though the underlying threat is obvious. “Until then, please rest up. I’ll see you in the morning.”

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. When they all leave, I close the door behind me and lean against it.

A moment later, there’s a knock, and I swing it open to find a servant.

“I thought you might need these,” she says, handing over a pile of white cotton balanced in her arms.

“Thank you,” I say gratefully before she curtsies and scurries away. When she’s gone, I drop my towel and pull on the soft white pajamas, which include loose pants and a sleeveless top. It feels good to be in fresh clothing and it has the effect of clearing my head a little.