My mind made up, I walk determinedly to my desk and pen a letter inviting him to train with me tomorrow morning. I tell him to be ready after the breakfast hour in his chambers, hesitating briefly before dropping the letter into the outgoing mail pile on my desk. This is just a test, an opportunity for me to learn more about him. I’m not committing to anything. I’ll train with him, but I’ll be careful. I won’t let him get too close or see too much of my magic. And I will not let him touch me again.

Laurel

The origins of the Prophecy of the Thayarian Queen are unknown. There is no record of the seer who spoke it, and the earliest records are oral histories passed down through generations of Thayarian fae. There are some who argue it is nothing more than a wives’ tale, a story told around the cooking stoves of females to give hope in dark times.

A Brief History of Modern Thayaria

The next morning, I’m dressed in tight leather leggings that hug my curves and a cropped deep green sleeveless tunic. There are straps that wrap around my torso to support my breasts. It’s a practical choice for training, but I also know the effect it has on my figure.

He’s betrothed. And annoying. And your enemy. Scolding myself, I braid my hair down my back and skip makeup entirely, but I don’t change my clothes. Grabbing a black, fur-lined cloak for warmth, I aerstep to the Velmaran apartment. They’re getting used to my sudden appearances. This time, they don’t even flinch when I intrude on their breakfast.

Seated at the dining table, casually discussing their plans for the day, they tease one another lovingly. A familiar pang of wanting grips me. I shove it down, then smile at Silene, who jumped up from the table and is walking over to greet me. The guilt I felt after dressing myself only intensifies, and I vow to keep my cloak on today and to keep my distance from Hawthorne.

“How are your conversations with the rebels going? Are they ready to introduce Hawthorne to their leaders?” I ask. She beams.

“Yes! We have a time and place as of yesterday. We were so excited to tell you.”

“That’s excellent. Great work, really. You’ve had a productive week.”

“So…” she says, lowering her voice, “You and Thorne are going to train today.” I suddenly fear she’s noticed what I can no longer pretend isn’t flirting between the Prince and me. I brace myself for her to remind me of their engagement, or threaten me, or plead with me to stop flirting with him. Instead, she says with a wicked, conspiratorial grin, “Don’t you dare go easy on him.” With that, she practically skips back to the dining table, leaving me once again curious about the nature of their relationship.