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“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I muttered, but I focused on the flames and tried to find the connectionbetween where they were and where they came from inside of me. It was like finding a needle in a haystack, but when I did find that small, pulsing, golden thread, I smiled.
I focused on the thread, pulling at it in my thoughts and feeling it pull from within my chest. The flames in my hand danced but did not change shape. Trying again, I tugged on the thread harder, trying to mold it into the shape of a ball with my thoughts, scrunching my eyes as I stared at the flames.
They moved one way, and then the other, but they did not curl up like I was trying to make them. Frustratingly, I could feel Leo staring at me, and I knew my face was starting to turn red with exertion. I grunted as I shifted on the floor, moving from kneeling to sitting with my legs crossed, trying to focus better. The burning feeling had returned to my chest, and I knew it was because I was getting angrier at myself for not being able to do this.
I just did not like failing.
Suddenly, the golden thread snapped in my chest, and I let out a gasp as the fire I had been holding erupted from my hand, spreading around the room. I covered my head with my hands, curling up into a ball, to try and protect myself.
Leo laughed lightly from beside me, and I peered at him from the sides of my eyes, just to make sure he was okay.
The flames had already extinguished, taken away bywhatever wards Leo had placed over his furniture earlier. Lifting my head, I looked at Leo properly, my eyebrows raised in annoyance, but his laughter continued.
“Alright, that might have been a bit too much.”
29
Cyrus
Cirro’s voice droned on in the room behind me.
I rolled my eyes as he snatched a swatch of fabric from the castle seamstress’ hands. His cheeks had started turning red as he huffed and made his way over to where I was standing in front of the tri-fold mirrors, the castle tailor pinning my suit jacket into place along my back. The seamstress, Rosa, and her husband, Ed, had worked in the castle since I was a child, and had made every outfit I had ever worn. I had more respect for them than I had for most.
Rain clouds had gathered over Zalas, and as they made their way closer to the castle, I found myself with an added spring in my step. I loved the rainy season, but this rainy season would mark my ascension to the throne, andif that did not scream good luck, I did not know what did.
Cirro grumbled as he moved around Ed and appeared in front of me. He was holding the fabric up in front of him and staring at it with a look of disgust. I raised an eyebrow at him, squaring my shoulders when Ed put his hands on them, straightening me up so I was standing at my full height.
“Have you seen the colour she has chosen?” Cirro asked, his tone full of disgust, although whether it was about Kira or the colour, I was not sure.
“I have.” I nodded my head, looking away from the short Fae male and back to my reflection in the mirror. The suit I had on now was white and would be dyed the day after tomorrow, so it was as bright as possible for our wedding in four days’ time.
“It is atrocious. She cannot expect you to wear this.” Cirro scoffed, throwing the fabric swatch to the ground at his feet and glaring at it.
The colour was not the one I would have chosen. The rich, emerald green was chosen as a nod to Kira’s home, which I had expected, but it was not as awful as Cirro was making it out to be. Would I have chosen something better? Yes. I caught Rosa’s face in the mirror, the look of upset making my blood boil. Ed had dipped his head behind my back again, but the way he was stabbing pins into the fabric of my jacket had become concerning.
I let my eyes wander to where my middle sister, Calliope,was sitting. She had brought herself into my room before the sun was even in the sky this morning, claiming that she had had a nightmare. I had let her climb into my bed with me, and we had shared made up stories until Ed and Rosa knocked on my door. She had not wanted to leave, so I let her stay. Curled up on the couch underneath the windows, she was watching the sky, keeping track of the clouds as they rolled towards us.
Lowering my head to Cirro, I lifted an eyebrow.
“Pick it up.” I said slowly, locking eyes with him.
Cirro had been my father’s adviser when I was a child and had been my adviser since I had taken over the castle, but sometimes it felt as though he did not know his place. He was forever undermining me, making decisions behind my back, and holding council meetings that no one told me, or Kira, about until the very last minute. I had caught him more than once shouting at kitchen staff about menu changes that he wanted but had not been accepted, and yet, he watched my every move like a hawk.
He hated Kira with everything he had in his small, rotund body.
He stared at me now, his eyebrows furrowed as though he did not understand what I had asked him to do.
“Now.” I snapped, glaring at him. Cirro did not move for a few seconds, but eventually, he sighed, bending down with a grunt to pick up the fabric from the ground. Heheld it at the edges, as though it were an animal ready to bite him and scrunched his face at it.
“Give it to Rosa.” I gestured my head over my shoulder to where Rosa still stood, worrying her hands together as she watched what was happening.
“Your Majesty —“ Cirro scoffed, looking from the fabric, to Rosa, to me.
Cirro had this awful habit of treating the castle staff as if they were less than him. As if he was not the most easily replaceable out of all of them.
“Give. It. To. Rosa.” I ground out, focusing on taking a deep breath so I did not accidentally burn through the suit that Ed had spent so long perfecting for me. It was easier now, of course, to keep control over my emotions and not throw my magic about like a teenager, but I had been practicing for years.
Kira, on the other hand — the image of her magic erupting the way it did in the middle of that alley played on my mind every waking minute. She had been spectacular. Her magic had been more powerful than any I had ever seen, including my own. The alley had been left scalded where she had stood, and the carriage we had put her in to take her home had to be cut down for firewood. She had burned through the velvet seats and smashed the glass windows. It was the first time that I had thought of her as beautiful.
