Page 65 of The Starlight Savior

“A week,” Saige said quietly, “since I was able to conjure my magic.”

Conor’s eyes went wide, his hands gripping the edges of the chair tightly. “You did it?”

“You hadn’t heard?”

“I just got back this evening. Right before your screams woke the whole eastern wing.”

Saige flinched. “Were they really that loud?”

“Loud enough for me to be worried.” His eyes trailed to her quarter’s door, now off the hinges.

“You don’t have to be.” She shook her head, eyes trained on the tea. The tenseness in her body was beginning to relax with the help of the blend of herbs.

“What?”

“Worry about me,” Saige clarified. “I can handle myself.”

Conor smiled. “I’m well aware, witchling. But you need to know that you don’t have to handle anything alone unless you want to.”

Saige took another drink, letting his words linger in the air. “I suppose it’s impossible to handle things alone when everyone has their eyes on you.”

“We want to help you.”

Saige hardened her gaze. “Not everyone.”

Her conversation with the king and the blow of realizing her father was well known here were not in the interest of Saige. They were to keep her contained, to control what she knew. She was learning who and how to trust, but her mind often questioned it. The biggest concern sat beside her.

Stepping into Etrane, her first instinct had been to not trust Conor. Not just because he was the son of General Zathos. But each time she was with him, each overwhelming thought of muted magic and consuming mist seemed to dissipate. It was something to cherish. To hold close to her heart and allow it to fuel every pump of blood through her veins.

It also was something she could lose.

Despite this push and pull raging in her body, Conor kept showing up. Kept trying to help her. The more she saw him, the more acclimated she felt. Saige couldn’t discount that. So did that indicate a moment of building trust? She didn’t know. She’d never dabbled in such a thing before.

“Tell me about the nightmares.”

Saige looked up. “Why?” She never spoke of them aloud, as there had never been anyone to listen.

“It may be helpful to share”

“My parents,” she said softly, “it is always my parents but…” She took a shaky breath. All of the tea’s tranquility was beginning to dissipate with each word. “These are different.”

“Because of your magic?”

“Tobin said I had a mental block. Now that it’s gone…memories are coming forward.”

Conor nodded as if he understood. “Now your mind is moving quicker than you can keep up.”

“My mind was already like that!” she mumbled, burying her face in her hands with a groan. “But the last few days, the nightmares have just worsened.”

They always were the same, but what now differed each time she slept were the details added on. Conversations missed. Moments blocked out. It was as if she was finding pieces to the puzzle, the painting before her becoming clearer with each evening.

Saige explained her most recent one, Conor nodding along to every word. Her father’s thumb sweeping over her face, the inability to move from the bed, her mother’s cloak draped with safety. And the way her father had tried to command the soldiers before him. None of it made sense…and yet it was all falling into place. As if she was meant to remember it.

But she didn’t like what she was finding. If anything, she awoke with more anguish and pain.

When she finished, Saige let out a heavy sigh and spoke of her fear. “Do you think my mind is making it all up? Am I becoming unbalanced?”

Conor reached over and put a hand on her arm. She hadn’t realized she was shaking, but the heaviness of his grip relaxed through her. “You’re not unbalanced.”