“Looking smug, somehow without even moving your face.” She gave me a sly smile.
I chuckled again. “Part of my nature.”
She took the next game easily. I’d been far too distracted by the way the light from the fire caressed the smooth contours of her face and highlighted the gleam in her eyes.
After one more game, she yawned and covered her mouth with her hand. Although I wanted her to stay here with me all night, I said, “You’re tired. You should get some rest.”
“Okay.” She nodded. “We’ll try again tomorrow.”
We did. After another unsuccessful attempt to restore the wards the next night, we returned to the castle. When we saw Genevieve cleaning up after dinner, Lilia said, “We’re going to play a game. Would you and Victor like to join us?”
Genevieve’s eyes widened with surprise and she glanced at me in question. “Umm…”
Although I was fond of Genevieve and Victor, after all they’d been loyal caretakers for years, I didn’t socialize with them much anymore, not since the queen’s attack when I’d retreated from everything and everyone. Our conversations had mostly been about the castle and meals.
“Yes, join us,” I insisted, unwilling to stifle Lilia’s joy, which I was discovering, led to my happiness as well.
“We’d love to,” Genevieve said, beaming with a smile. “Let me go find Victor.”
The four of us sat by the fire in the Great Hall, playing cards and laughing until past midnight.
That sound warmed me even more than the pleasant heat from the fireplace. I hadn’t realized how quiet the castle had been, so devoid of laughter, until now.
The next night, Lilia asked if we could all dine together as well. I wouldn’t deny her anything, not with how she lifted all our spirits. After we’d all dined, Victor and Genevieve said they’d clean up, and Lilia and I headed to the wards. I carried her basket of plants and books.
“I think I found something we haven’t tried yet that might work,” Lilia said as we held hands without reservation while heading out to La Forêt de Veillepierre.
“What did you find?”
“It was in an old botanical compendium in your library. I cross-referenced it with another book on magic that included protective wards. There’s something there with the overlap between old plant lore and boundary magic, I’m almost certain of it.” Her voice quickened with excitement as she spoke. “First, we need to burn white sage to clean out the disintegrating energy. Then we’ll add yarrow at the base of each marker, for protection and endurance. And add rowan to the stone, as strengthening material.”
“Mm,” I grunted in agreement. “Sounds…delightful.”
She laughed at my forced enthusiasm. “I’m telling you, Hadrien, I think it’s the right combination.”
I didn’t want to point out that she’d said that a few times before. She’d reminded me of the power of intention, and I forced myself not to let my negativity ruin it.
Once we reached the boundary, she referred to her texts as she followed through the instructions. The distinctive scent ofsage burning tickled my nostrils. Then she added the plants and chanted in Old French, while I stood by as usual, like a rock.
“Okay, it’s ready,” she declared. “Hold my hand and put your other one on the stone marker.”
I stooped beside her and did as she instructed.
“Close your eyes. Breathe in.” She inhaled audibly.
Somethinghappened.
That spark that I’d felt the first time we’d tried this—it was back. Not only that, it pulsed, growing stronger. The vibrancy grew where our hands joined, burning brighter between us. I felt it in my body, as the magic coursed through my veins, binding its way toward the stone.
When I turned to it, my eyes widened. A dim blue luminescence expanded from it, one that I’d never seen before. I’d never been able to forge anything like this with my magic alone.
“Mother of Stone,” I whispered.
“What?”
“It’s…” I almost couldn’t believe it as the energy flowed through me, more vibrant than ever before. My mouth fell open before I could form the word. “It’s…working,” I said just above a whisper, almost in disbelief.
Lilia gasped and put her hand on her heart. “We did it?”
