Page 111 of The Awakening of Essensia

She tried to smile but it felt wrong. “But your scared of me?”

He met her gaze. “I’d be a fool not to. Gods, when Elijah gets wind of this, the Abyss will break loose.”

Vaelira flinched inwardly. If only he knew.

A knock sounded.

“Not now,” Jurah called.

The door opened. Heavy boots thudded across the floor. Guards entered, hands on their sword hilts.

“Vaelira Tarn,” the one at the front said. He wore a white cloak, a small golden crown pinned at his throat. “In the name of His Majesty King Roderic Duremont, sixth of his name, you are under arrest for the crime of unlawfully practising essensia and practising with malicious intent.”

Jurah stepped forward, but one of the guards shoved him back. Vaelira was hauled to her feet. Cold metal clamped around her wrists. The flame in her chest flared then sputtered out.

26

A Gift

Elijah scowled at the incense burner.

The scent hung heavy in the parlour, stuffing itself down his throat and into his lungs until he could see nothing beyond its cloying sweetness. He had tried opening the window, but it was locked, and despite a rigorous search through the bookshelves and small drawers, he had found no key.

She was making him wait. She would arrive without apology and scold him for whatever he had done to displease her. It was time he wasn’t content to waste. He needed to speak to Vaelira, needed to explain. Once he did, she would understand. She had to.

The door swung open, the scented smoke shifting with the movement. Elijah stood. “Mother.”

Queen Mairese entered, waving a hand in front of her face. She coughed once, crossed to the window, and unlocked it with a small key drawn from the pocket of her crimson dress. She turned, her eyes flicking to his polished boots, his hair. He had taken the time to comb it how she liked before answering her summons. The fewer faults she could find, the sooner she would get to the point.

“Why would you sit in here with all that?” she asked, taking the armchair opposite him.

Elijah sat, his spine straight against the green velvet seat. “It was like this when I arrived.”

“You should have opened a window,” she said dismissively.

He didn’t answer. He wasn’t going to play her games, not with his patience already worn thin, not after an hour of waiting.

“I wanted to speak with you about your girl,” Queen Mairese said, folding her hands in her lap.

Elijah kept his expression smooth. “Which girl?”

“I understand you two have grown close.”

“Not particularly.”

She smiled slightly. Elijah cursed himself for the slip. He drew a quiet breath. “I thought you had moved past your obsession with her?”

She tilted her head, like a cat preparing to pounce. “I hear she has been having difficulty with her training.”

“Not that I have heard.”

His hand twitched, but he resisted the urge to touch his chest. The last time he had seen Vaelira she had burned him. He could have thrown her in the dungeons for it, should have thrown her in the dungeons, but he had been the fool who kissed her. After everything that had happened that night, it was too much.

She had stood there, all despair and self-doubt, and he had wanted to take the pain away, had wanted her. She was meant to be his salvation, and he needed every part of her, body, and soul.

Now, she wouldn’t even speak to him, as if everything he had done for her meant nothing. As if he meant nothing. His fingers clenched in his lap.

“You have not heard of her difficulties?” Queen Mairese mused. Elijah shook his head. Her smile widened, like she couldn’t help herself. “She is a mage.”