With my correspondence read and responded to, I aerstep to my research room below the castle, though very few of my experiments live here anymore. Most are housed deep in the northern mountains now, supported by my supply of thayar and closer to the leylines running through Velmara.

I pick up a vial of dark crimson liquid, then carefully pour a single drop of it onto a clear glass plate. Picking up another vial, I pour a second drop onto the plate, then close my eyes, whispering a spell. The two drops light up with an unusual glow, then slowly inch closer to one another until they combine into one large glob. The light brightens, and I smile wide…

“It’s getting stronger,” I say aloud, eyes alight with a manic and feral gleam.

Laurel

Dual channelers are rare. They typically only occur when two powerful family lines with different magics intentionally ally themselves through marriage, with the explicit purpose of producing strong heirs. Common births of dual channelers are nearly unheard of, and as such, most dual channelers are well-known across the realms.

The Unabridged History of Magical Orders, Volume I

Thorne continues to court me, even as we prepare for an offensive attack on the rebels. We train together. We have meals together. We go on walks just to have an excuse to talk to one another. I feel myself letting him in more and more, and it’s both terrifying and exhilarating. He told me that all I had to do was keep letting down walls for him, one brick at a time—asked me to promise to try. But what I didn’t say, what I desperately wanted to admit, is that I’m exhausted from the effort of keeping those walls up for three centuries. I fear that once I crack one stone, the whole fortress will collapse, and I’m not sure if he’s ready for that outpouring of emotion from me.

One night, he insisted on bringing me to a tavern for a pint of Thayarian ale. The patrons were nervous around me at first, but after a joke from Thorne and his announcement that the next round of drinks would be on me, the mood lightened. I envy his ability to charm any room he walks into, to light up whatever he touches. And when that light focuses wholly on me, I forget everything else around me.

After Thorne extracted himself from the dozens of fae who wanted to speak to the charismatic Shining Prince, we drank in a corner with Fionn and Silene, playing Skran and talking till early in the morning. Thorne’s intolerance for Thayarian ale had him stumbling to the castle, insisting I was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. I feigned smirking disinterest, but the raw compliments lit me up from the inside out.