Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 123190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
“I don’t have powers,” I say tightly.
“That’s my point. You think you don’t, but there’s no way you can be a child of Mab and be powerless—even in your human form. Work with Amira, see if she can draw it out of you.”
That sounds dangerous. Pushing me to draw out my magic is only asking for trouble. If the former queen has a way of pulling out my true powers, I’ll be exposed. “Leave it alone,” I say. “Please.”
He shakes his head, but I can sense he’s done pushing for now. “Eventually you’re going to have to face the facts.”
I swallow hard. I need to do whatever is necessary to keep Misha and his friends from poking around in my mind, and if that means exposing some of my own magic as if it’s Princess Jasalyn’s, then so be it. “There might be something.”
Misha’s head snaps toward me, eyes sharp. “What?”
“It’s easier to show you than to describe.” Jasalyn is going to have a lot of explaining to do when she can’t duplicate this later, but I imagine this won’t be the only thing she’ll have to answer for.
The longer I’m here, the bigger mess she’ll be left to clean up and the harder it will be for her to pretend she never left. If we’re going to make it even a week in this ruse, I can’t let that be my problem.
“Introduce me to someone you have any sort of connection with—anyone you know that I don’t—and don’t tell me who they are or how you know them.”
He lifts his brows, curious, then walks to the door. My shoulders sag in relief until he turns back to me.
“Aren’t you coming?”
“What—now?”
His lips twitch. “Now, Jasalyn.”
Misha leads me up to the third floor to a gorgeous circular library. The walls are lined with books while the glass ceiling floods the space with natural light. Spaces for working and lounging are located throughout the massive room, and I can imagine spending days here curled up in a cozy chair and losing myself in book after book.
I don’t get to spend much time taking in the space before Misha is ushering me over to a young, pale-skinned female who is slight of frame with one of those ever-present smiles.
“Good morning.” She bows her head to her king and curtsies quickly, her cheeks turning pink.
I hold back a groan. If she has a crush on him, he’s never going to believe this ability is magical, and his former queen will be rooting around in my head tomorrow. I imagine most of the females who spend any amount of time around their king have a crush on him at some level.
“Good morning,” I say. “I’m Jasalyn.”
“Princess Jasalyn,” Misha corrects, and I shoot him a glare because the real princess would find the correction tiresome.
“What’s your name?” I ask her.
“Blake, Your Highness.”
“Blake, would you mind having a short conversation with King Misha—about something trivial, if possible.” I step back, as if to make physical room for their conversation.
She wrinkles her brow. “Am I in trouble for something?”
“Not at all,” Misha says. “The princess wants to show me a skill she has, and to illustrate it, she needs to see us speak with each other.”
Blake’s face lights up. “Oh. My aunt’s new husband’s grandson can predict future loyalty based on a short conversation between two people. Is it like that?”
“Nothing so useful, I’m afraid,” I say, smiling. I like her. And I like what she feels for her king. Not a crush. Respect, honor, a pinch of friendship that she’s a little unsure about. And Misha . . .
“Maybe you should just tell me what you have planned for the day,” Misha suggests.
“My shift in the library ends in a few hours and then I’m going to enjoy the evening outside. The cold days are coming too soon.”
“Unfortunately so,” he says. “What do you like to do outside?”
He’s grateful for her work—I can guess in his libraries from context. But there’s something else there. A jealousy? No. Not jealousy.
“My husband, daughter, and I like to explore the forest behind our cottage. It’s the same forest I grew up exploring, and I love that we can give her the same childhood.” The pink in her cheeks deepens.
The tug is so hard and strong I feel it in my own gut. Family.
“There’s no gift quite like the one the Mother gives us every day,” she adds quietly.
“Agreed. And no forest in the realm as beautiful as those in our court,” Misha says.
“I’ll have to take your word for it,” she says on a laugh. “I’ve never left these lands. I’ve never wanted to travel when the other courts seem to be steeped in so much turmoil.”
“Can’t blame you there,” he says, chuckling.
“No offense, Your Highness,” she says, ducking her head toward me.