Page 77 of A Kingdom of Magic and Rain

“Emelin?” Thea’s voice pulled me from my slumber. I blinked open my eyes that were still swollen and scratchy from crying. “I knocked a few times, but you didn’t answer the door.” Her head was poking around the entrance to my bedroom from the anteroom. I must have fallen asleep reading the diary.

“You can come in.” I closed the journal in my lap and set it on the bedside table.

“I’m not alone,” she said, emerging fully from the anteroom. A petite faerie woman stepped out after her, assuming a position to her right. She was holding a silver tray with a carafe of water and two glasses. “This is Inara, your personal maid.”

“Good morning, milady.” Inara curtsied. She was a soft-spoken, timid little creature with mousy blonde hair and pale-blue eyes.

“Morning,” I grumbled half-heartedly. The lack of sleep was catching up to me as exhaustion pulled on my limbs.

“Inara will help you bathe and get ready for the day.” Thea strolled deeper into the bedroom, with the maid trailing behind her. “It’s already late morning. Tomorrow you might want to rise earlier, so you can enjoy the gardens before it gets stifling hot in the midday. Just a gentle suggestion.” She smiled at me as she reached the balcony doors.

“Don’t!” I stopped her when she went to pull back the curtains.

She lowered her hands from the drapes and glanced at Inara, who had set the carafe and glasses on the bedside table. “Are you not ready to get out of bed?” she asked me, her smile fading.

“No, I’m not.” I burrowed deeper into the pile of plush covers.

“Inara, please give me and the queen”—she emphasized my new title—“a few minutes in private. You can wait outside her chambers.” With a nod of obedience, the maid collected the old carafe and slipped out of the room. “Emelin, you need to get up.” Thea refocused on me.

“Why?” I challenged. “From what you’ve told me about the Fae royal tradition, the king is the one who runs the kingdom, and the queen is nothing more than a pretty accessory on his arm.”

She frowned. “Well, yes, that is how Sorin ruled.”

“So, I can stay in my quarters all day if I want to.”

“It’s true, you can do whatever you please, but I think it might serve you well to get out of your rooms.”

“Why? You’ve created a beautiful space. It has everything I need. Well, except for an easel and painting supplies,” I pointed out.

“You will find several easels and all the painting supplies your heart might desire in the art room next to the library. Let me call Inara back, and she can help you get ready. I will give you a tour of the castle.”

“No. I will be staying in my rooms.”

“Emelin—”

“That’ll be all.”

Thea looked like she wanted to argue but decided against it. “Here,” she said with a heavy sigh as she placed a small silver bell upright on the nightstand. “The bell is spelled. When you’re ready, simply ring it, and Inara will be notified that you require her assistance. I will let her know that she’s free to tend to her other duties in the meantime.” She turned to leave but halted by the exit. “Gray is not like his father. I doubt he wants for you and him to have the same dynamic that his parents did when it comes to ruling the kingdom.”

“Why do you call him Gray?” I asked, ignoring what she had said. “Is it because of his middle name, ‘Grayland’?”

“Yes. Tom and I have always called him that, ever since we were children.” A reminiscent smile flickered across her face before her expression turned serious. “Gray might not tell you, but I think it’s time for you to siphon Silberium from him again.”

“Already? It’s only been two weeks.”

“Yes, it appears so. I do hope that you leave your bed today at some point, if only to check on him.”

I pressed my lips in a thin line, refusing to confirm or deny that I would. Thea lingered a moment longer, her expression a mix of sadness and concern, before she walked out.

After she had left, I suddenly felt lonely and sorry for myself, even though I was the one who had chosen to stay in my quarters. When tears welled, I didn’t stop them, crying myself back to sleep to the lullaby of the oppressive quiet of my room.

Awakened by a faint tapping on the balcony door, I sat up in bed and rubbed my eyes. Judging by the shadows that had filled my room, I must have slept all day.

Tap, tap, tap. I turned my head toward the sound coming from the outside.

“What under the Stars…” I moved the heap of covers to the side and got out of bed.

A strip of soft, pale moonlight drifting through the gap in the curtains guided my way as I stepped closer to the balcony door. I carefully peeled back the left drape and discovered a medium-sized bird on the other side of the glass, gently tapping it every few seconds as if to get my attention. There was no one else on the balcony—there couldn’t be because of the wards around my chambers.