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“But Dymree made an alliance with Vindrya,” Thicket said. “Back before I was cursed. That’s why we got engaged.”

It took Alouette coercing her father into accepting after Lavender personally attacked their city. From what she had heard about Elian’s father, he was just as bad if not worse than King Artus. When Lavender first started making threats, what had made them accept?

“Ever since word about your blue fire spread across the Continent, your name was passed around. Everyone wanted their sons to take your hand, believing they could adopt your blue fire into their bloodline and gain greater power. Dymree was the most aggressive pursuer.”

Thicket thought about King Artus’ purple fire. He had seemed so proud, as though finally accomplishing a feat his family had spent decades if not centuries cultivating. What about the other kingdoms, like Malont and the Desert Kingdom? Were they also trying to find a way to match Vindrya’s royal power?

Elian’s head tilted up, captivated by the slow upward crawl of the moon. “My father never wanted me to have the throne. He was probably glad when I got swept up in the curse. It gave him the perfect excuse to forget and replace me, the blemish upon his lineage.”

“You passed the rite,” Thicket said. “You had every claim to the throne. In fact, I think Dymree would have been better for it.”

“I just wish I could have been there for my younger brothers,” Elian said. “With how Artus turned out, I know my father must have found a way to worm into Reynauld’s mind and shape him in the way he always wanted me to be.” His eyes lingered on the stars for a moment longer. Thicket wondered if he could see his family in them. If the view reminded him of the best parts of his childhood, or the worst.

“No use dwelling upon it now,” Elian said, lowering his gaze. “They have already done their time on this earth. Alouette will be the next ruler of Dymree. She is far better suited to it than I ever was.” He tossed her a grin. “Besides, I have my vision glass empire to think about and a promise to an owl to uphold.”

Thicket snorted, remembering the sassy little owl. She quickly sobered, remembering the other ally she had made while in Dymree. “Do you think she is okay? Alouette?”

“She’s fierce and almost as cunning as your sister. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Desert Kingdom grew too afraid of her and let her go. That, or she might just conquer them from the inside.”

That got a laugh out of her. She gripped the railing of the bridge, leaning back on her heels. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

Elian scratched his ear. “It was less that I wanted to talk to you, and more that I wanted to show you something.”

Thicket’s eyebrows lifted. “I’m listening.”

“Bern used to go on and on about this legend of a lagoon hidden somewhere in Sleeria. I thought we could try to find it together.”

“A lagoon?”

“The Lost Soul Lagoon to be precise.”

It sounded magical. Since waking up, Thicket had only seen the ugly side of the world that plagued her dreams. Even if it was for just a moment, she wanted to witness the magic that had once inspired her belief as a child in a world without. “Let’s go.”

The dimple on Elian’s left cheek creased, eyes alight. “I heard it’s somewhere beyond the cliffs bordering the ocean. Come on.” He grabbed her hand and tugged her after him.

They exited the bridge and wrapped back onto the street, following the sliver of the horizon inching between canals.

“What made you want to find the lagoon?” Thicket asked.

“You seemed overwhelmed during the meeting. You always find a way to be there for me and I guess this time I wanted to be the one to whisk away your worries.”

The words should have made butterflies take flight in her chest, but they were grounded by the look on his face. It was as though he weren’t in the moment with her, but lost somewhere deep inside his mind.

Thicket knew that feeling all too well. But what was haunting him?

Why didn’t you give her True Love’s Kiss and wake her up sooner?

“What that little boy said earlier…” Thicket said carefully. “About True Love’s Kiss. Is that real?”

Elian adjusted the sleeve of his coat, not quite meeting her eyes. “It is, though it is mostly a common turn of phrase developed from stories. The magic of it isn’t within the kiss itself, but the act. Fatigue, emotion, one’s mental state, all of these elements work together to determine how much of your magical energy you can accumulate and draw upon at a time. But sometimes, when someone’s emotions are heightened to an extreme level, their magical energy spikes, becoming strong enough to break any spell, enchantment, or curse. Strong enough even to make someone more powerful than they would otherwise be.”

“Is that even possible?” she asked. “I mean, I thought the strength of your magic was predetermined?”

Thicket was sure that if there was anyone who could change the hand they were dealt through sheer willpower alone, it would have been Marcellus.

“Typically it is,” Elian said. “However there are tales of mothers whose love for their children is so fierce their magical energy spikes enough to grant them the ability to heal wounds beyond what most healers can accomplish. Legends about warriors who drew upon powerful strength to save the ones they loved, even going so far as to change the color of their fire.”

“Is this guaranteed to happen if someone loves another?”