Page 133 of Reign

“Come in,” Regina called.

The hinges creaked as Billy struggled to open it.

“Your Grace,” he announced, bowing in our general direction. “Wolver has summoned you.”

“I shall meet with him at once,” she replied.

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Billy bowed, ducking out of the chamber.

Regina patted my arm affectionately. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m needed elsewhere.”

“Thank you for this,” I murmured, picking up my new spellbook.

I curtsied before leaving the chamber, hurrying toward my own quarters with eagerness to practice spellcasting.

Royal Courting.

I’d have been lying if I said I wasn’t growing fond of life on the Isle. For the past two days, Fitzroy, Regina, and her advisers had spent their daylight hours discussing war tactics, while I practiced incantations. After sunset, I joined the other courtiers for feasting, singing, and dancing. Spellcasting had almost surpassed forging as my favorite pastime, and I hadn’t missed the smithy once.

Yet, in the quiet of the night, when I was alone with my thoughts, part of me missed Bash.

This evening, Bronwyn dressed me in an opulent emerald gown, and I fitted the hennin—a cone-shaped headdress with a dramatic black veil flowing from its pointed peak. Just days ago, I would’ve thought this outfit was an ostentatious display of wealth; now, I found myself growing fond of the lavish lifestyle.

As I waited for Fitzroy to accompany me to the Great Hall, I thumbed through the spellbook Regina had generously gifted. This was not only the first book I’d ever owned but also the first I could read without my mother’s help. My fingers traced the elegant Yfelle script, and I felt an overwhelming gratitude for being born a witch. Before my arrival at Annwn, I’d never regarded my magical abilities as a gift. Now, I treasured my witchhood and prayed never to return to Lyonesse—there was nothing left for me in that rainy realm.

A knock at the door distracted me from my reading.

“Come in,” I called.

Fitzroy strode into my chamber with an air of confidence. “Good eve,” he said—and it certainly was now he’d arrived.

“I’ve reached an agreement with Regina—she’s consented to my plan to siege the Walled City,” Fitzroy said, letting out a satisfied sigh. “And she’s even promised us positions in her royal court if the invasion succeeds.”

If their plan came to fruition, Fitzroy and I would be spending a lot more time together. I was surprised at how much I liked the thought of that.

“That’s good news,” I said, relieved our trip was successful.

With a proud grin lighting up his handsome face, Fitzroy asked, “How have you spent your day?”

“Practicing spells,” I replied, pointing to Greenhorn’s Grimoire.

Fitzroy picked up the book and flipped through its pages. “Regina must be very fond of you,” he remarked. “She seldom shares her spells with anyone. ”

I suppressed a small, smug smile. I liked the notion of Regina favoring me.

“Can I show you what I’ve learned?” I asked, finding myself seeking Fitzroy’s praise.

After he nodded, I pushed open the window to let the evening chill into my toasty chamber.

“Dæl’th wolcn oeniht’n schew thou leoht monan.” Part the clouds tonight and show me moonlight, I incanted.

Like soft, wispy curtains, the clouds parted to reveal a silver crescent.

Fitzroy’s approving nod was cut short by the rumble of my own growling stomach.

With a chuckle, he said, “I think you need to eat. Come, let’s feast.”

He offered his arm, and I took it.