My conversation with Fenn didn’t last long. He could tell my mind was elsewhere. And as we made our plans, when I alluded to a private scheme between myself and Adira, he quickly waved away any offer of explanation, claiming he didn’t want to know the details.
It was for the best. The less he knew, the safer he would be—and then he could honestly tell King Reginald that he had no knowledge of our plan if it all went to shit.
After a fitful night’s sleep, during which a frequent searing pain in my leg woke me, I met with Adira, Fenn, and King Reginald in the study. Keeping the details of my magic replication a secret, I explained what I could do with trace remnants of magic in the air. I could identify its source, assuming it came from fae magic I was familiar with, and identify for how long the magic had been there.
Adira pulled out a map of the castle and pointed out every spot where she had followed the triplets in her pursuit of them. A look of pride sparked in Reginald’s eyes as he nodded approvingly at his daughter. He tasked Adira and me with traveling to these locations so I could try and detect any lingering traces of magic. In the meantime, Reginald and Fenn would meet with the ruling council in Allsburg to outline a plan to retrieve Reginald’s daughters. Both were confident that the council would provide funds and an army if need be.
But it was useless unless we knew where the princesses were being held.
To my immense relief, Reginald allowed Adira and me to perform our task alone, without the aid of servants and guards. Not only was I a guardsman, able to defend myself and Adira if necessary, but Reginald wanted to keep this matter quiet, and he didn’t trust the castle staff to remain tight-lipped about anything we might discover.
So, I had more alone time with Adira, which would provide me with an opportunity to heal whatever rift had come between us.
Adira and I wordlessly left the study, traveling down the wide hallway that led to the staircase to the upper levels of the castle where the princesses’ quarters were. Nothing but the soft scuffing of our footsteps punctuated the silence.
She wouldn’t look at me. And my throat was so tight with emotion that I wasn’t sure if I could speak.
When we reached the bottom of the stairs, I finally found my voice.
“I can visit more often.”
In my head, the words had seemed like a promise. But when spoken, they sounded utterly foolish and insufficient.
Adira cut a glance at me. “What?”
“We don’t see each other enough. You’re right. I should visit you more often.”
Her lips thinned, and a wrinkle formed between her brows. “That won’t be necessary, Marek. If you are busy and you have other things—other people—you would prefer to attend to, then please don’t let me stop you.”
Her words were laced with a bitterness that shocked me. I had never heard her speak like that, least of all to me. “Other people?” I repeated. “Adira, you are the most important person to me.”
“You have a funny way of showing it,” she snapped. “It would be a lot easier if you just told me, Marek. Is there a lady you’re courting? I hear Prince Fennick’s cousin of the Midnight Court is quite beautiful.”
My head reared back. “Isadora? No. I mean, yes, she is beautiful, but… no. I have never looked at her that way, and she would never in a million years see me as anything more than a—” My words stuck in my throat.
Adira’s steps faltered on the staircase, and she stopped to turn to me. “More than a what?” she asked, her voice suddenly sharp.
“An invalid,” I finished in a hollow voice. Lady Isadora had, on more than one occasion, made her disdain for me quite known. Thankfully, Queen Sonara paid her no heed and still saw value in my service. But Isadora made it her life’s mission to remind me of my shortcomings, constantly pointing out the ways my injured leg hindered me from performing my duties.
Adira made a low hissing sound, and my gaze shot to hers. Her eyes were steely, her teeth gritted as her nostrils flared. “That bitch,” she muttered.
I gaped at her, stunned.
“I should wring her godsdamned neck for saying such things,” Adira went on, her face full of rage. “Take away her magic, and I bet I could beat her in a fight.”
“You—You could,” I said, still reeling from the anger rippling from her. “I have no doubt. She doesn’t handle a blade half as well as you do.”
Adira continued climbing the steps, though her spine was a bit more rigid than before. “Not Isadora then. Someone else?”
A weak laugh escaped me. “Addie, why are you so convinced I am courting someone?”
“Because it doesn’t make sense for you to distance yourself from me so pointedly unless, like you mentioned last night, you are worried about appearances. Particularly, the appearance of you and me.” She sighed. “I know you are fae and cannot lie, so perhaps you believe your words when you say I am important to you. But I don’t.”
Her words cut through me, the pain of that statement throbbing more strongly than my bad leg.
She didn’t believe me.
How had I lost her trust? How had so much distance come between us in so short a time?
She paused on the steps, waiting for me to catch up to her. My leg flared with fresh agony, but I ignored it as I hurried to her side. “Addie…”
“I did not ask for this,” she said. “You say you left to give me space to become queen, but I did not ask you to do that. You made that choice for me. Which only leads me to believe you had other reasons for doing it. Reasons you aren’t telling me.”
My mouth opened and closed, and heat flooded my face. Gods, what could I say to her? If I told her how I felt, and she gave me that look of pity I loathed so much—the look that followed me wherever I went because of my limp—I wouldn’t be able to stand it.
I inhaled, my breath shaky, as I tried to formulate a response.
Then, I smelled it. Faint but potent, filling the air like the fragrance of a perfume.
It smelled like the air before a heavy thunderstorm, with just a hint of lilies.
I froze, trying to assess where it was coming from. Beside me, Adira stiffened.
“Do you smell that?” she whispered.
My skin prickled as I slowly turned to look at her. “Do you?”
Humans couldn’t smell fae magic.
She sniffed, closing her eyes, her brow furrowing in concentration. “I do. But I’ve never smelled it before. It reminds me of Cleo’s perfume, but… darker. Richer.”
I swallowed hard, my head pounding with uncertainty.
If Adira could smell magic, then—
She grabbed my arm. “Damn. I’ve lost it. But you smell it, too, right? It smells different. Like… like…”
“Fae magic,” I finished quietly.
Her eyes flew open and met mine, her expression taut with awareness. Recognition stirred in her gaze, as if she’d come to the same conclusion I had.
This could only mean Adira was not completely human. Not if she could smell fae magic.
Her mouth quivered, and a violent despair burned in her eyes. Her breathing turned sharp and ragged.
I laced my fingers through hers and squeezed, trying to distract her from the panic of this moment. “Come on. It’s this way.” Her fingers shook in my grasp.
As much as we needed to discuss this new development, it could wait. I could already tell she was on the verge of shattering.
She nodded, her head wobbling, as I guided her up the final step and down a hall lined with starry portraits of galaxies and meteor showers. The lights were dimmer in this corridor, and though my fae sight was undeterred, Adira’s steps slowed beside me, so I matched her pace, not wanting to rush her.
I took deep breaths, focusing on the smells around me. At a set of double doors, I paused to sniff the air. The potent smell was stronger here, and I detected another layer: vanilla.
Adira frowned. “This is the tea room, where we take our tea after supper.”
My gaze whipped to her. “Every night?”
She nodded.
I strode inside, finding it empty. Two beige chaise sofas stood opposite an elegant table of finely crafted mahogany. Wing-backed chairs sat before an empty fireplace, and shimmering white drapes lined the floor-to-ceiling windows. On one wall stood a bookshelf, stocked with the princesses’ favorite stories. On the other was a cart with an empty teapot and several teacups stacked neatly next to it.
I immediately approached the teapot, lifted the lid, and sniffed the inside.
Though there was no longer any tea inside, my suspicions were confirmed. With a grim look at Adira, I murmured, “There’s fae magic in your tea.”