“What of?—”
“I must seek answers before I have any for you.” She stops in front of me, grazing her fingers over the blue end of my braid. “What magic stirs inside you, Elorie Vale?”
She lets the braid fall, meeting my gaze.
“I don’t know.”
Lady Reah glances at the king. “I’ll find you when we are done here.”
He frowns, annoyance pinching his eyebrows. But even he doesn’t argue with the priestess.
The room slowly empties, with Selia clutching the king as they go. Greer spots the daggers in my leathers as she walks past, and she offers a tight smile.
Wilder is the last to leave. I feel his eyes on me as he passes,but I refuse to meet his stare. It isn’t until the door clicks behind him that my shoulders loosen.
“You don’t want to choose either of them, but you will.” Lady Reah meets my gaze, her opal eyes swirling.
“I already have.”
“So it would seem.” She walks to the dais, strumming her fingers around the rim of a large bowl on a table in the center.
Her nails tap the glass edge, and it echoes off the tall ceiling. After a few more taps, she flattens her finger on the rim and begins to draw a circle around it.
“You come with questions. Things even the Luminess has not yet woven.” She continues to circle her finger on the rim of the bowl. “I cannot tell you the key to waking your magic, Elorie. Only you know the answer to that.”
“I’m not here for answers. I’m here for the blessing.” I walk to meet her at the bowl. “I don’t expect you to help me with my magic.”
“Yet you worry it will not wake.”
“The king seems certain it will.” I bite the inside of my cheek, avoiding her gaze.
“Tell me what is holding you back.”
“I don’t know.”
“You do.” She pauses her finger. “Ask me what you really want to know.”
My gaze moves to the bowl. To the swirl of water that disappears at the center. It sinks into a well with no light and no end.
Lady Reah waits for my answer, and I wonder how she could have known what question lingers in my mind. Unlike Wilder, I don’t sense her at the edges of my thoughts. She is not creeping through. Yet she knows what I’m wondering before I say it.
“Can I save them both?” It’s nearly a whisper, and I’m ashamed.
I shouldn’t care about the people of Vaelier. Especially afterfinding out about Wilder’s involvement with Isolde. But my feelings for either king aside, it is not just their crowns or hearts at risk. Their people suffer—my people suffer—and I’m tasked with saving half of them.
Lady Reah’s eyes swim with flecks of pink and green. Steady, like the swimming vortex of water. “The Rite is a promise between blood and kingdom.”
“The Rite only allows me to choose one kingdom.”
She nods, and my stomach sinks.
“And there is no other way to save both realms with my decision?”
Lady Reah relaxes her hand at her side, glancing at the paintings on the right. “There is only one path to fix that which is broken in Lyrichia, and that is to push back the hunger of the Well.”
Which will send it to drain the other. She doesn’t say that, but she doesn’t need to.
“Your fear holds you back,” Lady Reah says. “It is why you will not allow your magic to wake.”
