Page 12 of A Kingdom of Magic and Rain

I averted my gaze. “I’m not ready to talk about it.”

I wasn’t sure why I was delaying the inevitable. Everyone would know eventually. I had already come to terms with it. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to reveal the truth behind my failed engagement. There was a certain level of shame associated with it, though a rational part of me realized it was foolish. Gideon should be the one ashamed. Still, the emotional side of me wanted to cover her face in embarrassment.

“I see,” Thea said low. Her eyes widened slightly before turning soft. “I imagine it’s difficult when things fall apart.”

The ashamed part of me reared her head again because I didn’t want Thea’s pity. I opened my mouth to tell her that, but the genuine concern on her face made me pause. “It is difficult,” I said instead. “Especially when your personal life is in the public eye.”

“Well, I hope that being away from the capital will help.” She smiled at me.

“Me too.” I smiled back, feeling like it was already helping, making it easier to breathe.

We had just finished our drinks when Killian returned to collect us for the ride home. It started raining again as we traveled back to Bradford Manor. My anxiety rose the closer we got to the estate. Soon I would have to face Gray again. Even though I had only met him yesterday, his disappointment in me this morning had stung.

“You’re brooding. Why are you brooding?” Thea asked, snapping me out of my thoughts. “And don’t tell me you’re not. I know the brooding look well. Tom wears it all the time.”

I chuckled at her comment before my smile fell again.

“What does your magic feel like to you?” I asked, studying her features.

“What?” She scrunched up her face.

“Gray asked me that this morning.”

“Oh, well, to me it feels like there is a spark inside me,” she said quickly and excitedly, and I was instantly jealous that she so readily knew the answer. “I can always feel my magic humming just below the surface of my skin, and it burns brighter when I feed it into the world around me.”

I could tell she wanted to talk more about it, but I couldn’t feign interest as my shoulders slumped, and my chest became tight with disappointment in myself.

What is wrong with me? I wondered silently, worrying the skirt of my dress.

“Hey,” Thea said softly as she reached out and squeezed my hand. “You will get there.”

I hoped she was right.

Gray and Tom were not at the manor when we returned. After I had hung up my newly purchased dresses in the wardrobe and recounted the events of the day in my journal, I still had time before dinner, so I headed to the library. The cozy room was toasty when I walked in, heated by the flames dancing in the fireplace. The rain outside had intensified, and its hushed whisper filled the quiet space, joining the sound of the crackling fire. After settling into the oversized sofa, I closed my eyes and tried to coax out my magic.

What does my magic feel like? I repeated in my head over and over.

Silence reigned around me as I waited for an answer. It never came. Several unsuccessful attempts later, I blew out a breath of frustration and opened my eyes. My gaze landed on the easel by the window, and I decided to put it to use. At least that skill I was confident in. I hoped that applying it now would help me to feel less like a failure and bring a certain sense of peace. Rising from the sofa, I walked to the cabinet closest to the easel and rummaged through it until I found canvases of different shapes and sizes, as well as paints and brushes that looked like they were often put to use. Did Gray paint? I doubted that Thea could sit still long enough for the task, and I couldn’t imagine Tom creating something beautiful.

Selecting a medium-sized rectangular canvas, I set it on the easel and chose my colors, drawn to muted, pastel hues on this rainy afternoon. I mixed the colors and let my inner creativity take over. It guided my brushstrokes as an idea took shape in my head. I worked for a while until the setting sun bathed the library in shades of orange and red. When the painting was finished, I took a moment to study it. I had painted a water well in the middle of a meadow. It looked very realistic, as if I had seen it before. I racked my brain for a memory of it, but when the search rendered no results, another thought occurred to me. I latched on to it, feeling as if I was onto something big.

I set the brush down and closed my eyes, exhaling as I looked within. What does my magic feel like? The answer was right in front of me; I could feel it. All I had to do was reach for it, but before I could, heavy footsteps approaching the library interrupted my concentration. Opening my eyes, I peered from behind the canvas as Gray walked in.

“Your Highness?” he asked, his brows raised.

“Emelin,” I corrected him with a small smile.

“Emelin.” He came to stand opposite me on the other side of the easel. “Do you paint?”

“I do. I hope you don’t mind my presumption in using your supplies.”

“Not at all. May I?” he asked with a curious look on his face.

I inclined my head and stepped away from the canvas. Gray came around the easel to stand beside me, and even though I was confident in my artistic abilities, I felt a bit nervous as he studied the painting.

“You’re a talented artist,” he said after a few seconds.

He sounded impressed, making me blush. “Thank you. Do you paint?”