Page 19 of Tanglewood Magic (The Three Sisters 2)
Circe sipped her drink. “I’m so sick of my sister being shoved around. It’s not fair what they are doing to her, Rhys.”
He picked up his glass and tossed back the rest of the wine. “Life isn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that my wife died of a fever that I would learn to cure five years after her death. It isn’t fair that the citizens of Darnuith trust my apothecary less since I’ve hired you and speak quite openly about it behind both of our backs.”
“Rhys…” She tipped her head and sighed.
“It’s not fair that I will never fire you, even if all my patients leave me and I am at risk of starving to death, because every time I see you, it’s as if the sun has finally risen and conquered the dark night of my heart.”
“I feel that way too.”
He stood and headed toward the door.
“Wait. Where are you going?”
“To think about the fact that the woman whose caring and empathetic nature, the healer who is my friend and almost more, would rather her sister use celestial power to flatten an entire kingdom than step down from a role she didn’t choose for herself in the first place.” His voice cracked as he said it, and she thought he looked older then. Worn.
She stood. “Rhys!” He turned back to her, nothing but a silhouette in her doorway. “Come back. What about dinner?”
He gave her a shallow smile. “I’ve lost my appetite.”
He slipped into the night, and the door closed behind him.
* * *
“I hopeI’m not interrupting anything.” Circe could tell by the bags under her sister’s eyes that she hadn’t slept well. Still, Medea smiled as she always did when she saw her and guided her to a comfortable chaise in the palace salon.
“What brings you here so early this morning? Is everything okay?” It was like Medea to be concerned for everyone else’s comfort when it was her world falling apart.
“It’s fine. I just… I’ve been thinking over what I said yesterday in the carriage about using the book to go to war with Paragon.”
Medea sat and folded her hands in her lap as a servant poured them both a cup of tea. “Would you please excuse us?” she asked the servants. A few moments later, the sisters were alone in the room. “It was a valid idea and an option Tavyss and I are considering. Eleanor wants Tavyss to take the throne, which means she wants to try to use him to advance her position. All she understands is power. If he bends to her will, I know in my heart we’ll regret it. She will continue to take and take and manipulate him, us, and our child for as long as we live. You can see it in her eyes. There will be no end to her cruelty.”
Circe chewed her lip. That was, in fact, why she’d brought up the idea in the first place. She’d thought the same thing. But Rhys was right, and she had to get what she came to say off her chest. “It’s just, last night, Rhys helped me to understand that the people of Paragon don’t get to choose their ruler. Most Paragonians are innocent. If you use the book, I think you should wield its magic in the palace against Eleanor and Brynhoff. Limit casualties.”
“Kill the dragon within its den, instead of bringing down the entire mountain with her in it.”
“Yes.” Circe sipped her tea.
“I know you, sister. I know you never meant for me to level their kingdom, even if I could muster the power it would take to do it.”
Circe stared at her hands, disappointed in herself. “Then you don’t know me as well as you think you do. When I saw how Eleanor treated you, I wanted her to die. I wanted all of them to die.”
Medea smiled. “Do you mean to tell me that my dear sister, who always follows the rules and used to tell on herself to our parents when we were children, has developed a murderous streak?”
Although her sister laughed, Circe saw the darkness within her heart. It was there in a separate, closed-off part of herself, and it scared her that it seemed to be growing. “I’m tired, Medea. I’m tired of the people of Darnuith threatening us. Even the ones who feign politeness are achingly distant. I’m tired of missing Mom and Dad and knowing we can never visit them again without putting them or us at risk. I’m tired of being pushed around by everyone and everything, or constantly moving and changing to give everyone else space and not taking any for myself. It’s like I’m supposed to float around, a benevolent ghost who’s good enough to help where help is needed but not good enough to invite into anyone’s life.”
A groan escaped Medea’s throat. “Why is it that I feel our discussion has taken an abrupt turn from my strategy addressing Paragon to your personal life, Circe?”
Circe sighed. “Because it has. I think I’ve fallen in love with Rhys.”
Medea’s brow arched. “I’d wondered. He does look at you as if you are single-handedly responsible for all the stars in the heavens.”
With a scoff, Circe brought her cup to her lips. “Honestly, I think he’s wise to keep me at a distance. People don’t trust us here. Why should he take the risk?”
“Circe Tanglewood, stop it. Stop it right now. He’d take the risk because you’re worth it, and if he doesn’t, he can’t be worth the price of your affection. You’re beautiful and powerful. If people here still don’t trust us, maybe that’s a sign that we’ve already accomplished whatever plan the Fates had for us when they chose me.” Medea played with the edge of her dress.
“What does that mean? You can’t be seriously considering stepping down.”
She nodded. “I am. I never needed to be queen. All I ever wanted was to have the freedom to exercise my magic and to love Tavyss in peace. All of this just fell into my lap, and with the baby coming… I wouldn’t be disappointed to simply be his consort.”
