Page 10 of Heir Of Sun And Moon
“Be serious, Bahira,” he grumbles. “This is, what, your twelfth marriage offer this year alone? I’m just curious why you haven’t accepted any of them.”
I sigh. Daje is many things: funny, altruistic, an exceptional swordsman, but a talented liar he is not. He wants to know the things that would make me agree tohisproposal. My heart cracks a little at the thought.
“I don’t want someone to marry me because they think they’re doing me a favor. Most of the men proposing are ones that never would have normally if I could render magic,” I answer, keeping my gaze forward.
He scoffs, hands clasping behind his back as we pass some guards and walk up the stone steps to the third floor, where my bedroom is.
“Since when has someone’s station in the kingdom mattered to you?” he grills me, causing frustration to prickle my skin. “Because they aren’t the most powerful mages, you automatically refuse them?” He keeps his face neutral when I peer at him, but I don’t miss the judgment in his tone.
“Don’t twist my words, Daje. What I am saying is that I want someone to choose me because theyloveme as I am. Not in spite of me being magicless, and not out of some sense of imaginary duty to the kingdom.”
We reach the top of the stairs and round the corner in silence before stopping in front of my bedroom door. Purple and green vines wrap along the arched door frame, a blue petalum flower—the fragrance subtle and sweet—permanently bloomed in the center at the very top. When I was born, my father knew this room would be mine so he spelled the lush, long flat petals of the flower to stay open and redolent. I turn the handle to the door, intent on ending this conversation, when Daje stops me with a gentle hand on my shoulder.
“Bahira, you know therearemen in this kingdom that care for you as you are. Ones that don’t give a shit about you not having magic,” he says, voice low and gravelly, but I hear the words he isn’t speaking—I’m right here.
Daje would be a fine partner, one that would care for me and treat me well. It probably makes me an idiot, but I can’t force myself to long for him the way he does for me. I wish I could, it would make things so much simpler, but he doesn’t challenge me in any way—he doesn’t stoke the fires of curiosity and discovery. On paper, we should fit together perfectly in some respects, but in spirit, we couldn’t be more opposite. He’s a good, kind man, and that’s enough for most. Unfortunately, I’m not most.
When I don’t respond, he removes his hand with a small sigh. “Just… think about it, Bahira.”
I look at him over my shoulder and smile faintly, not wanting to hurt his feelings but unable to give him hope for something more—unable to be what he wants me to be. He waits for a few seconds before turning and walking back down the hallway to the stairs. Exhaling, I enter the rest of the way into my room, gently shutting the door behind me. Leaning against it, I survey my personal space with a contented sigh. It might be my favorite spot in this realm—excluding the library. In the center of the room, a large circular emerald green rug covers the dark wood floors. They contrast with the creams and whites of the stacked stone walls. Potted plants of all varieties local to our kingdom fill each corner with little pieces of life. Across from me, a wall with three windows and a set of glass doors, which lead to the veranda, let the trickling daylight in.
There are still a few hours before the sun goes down and I’m to have family dinner, so I quickly get undressed and start a bath, the water steaming hot by the time the tub is filled. While soaking, I reminisce on my experiment from earlier. I’ve tried infusing water with many different strengths of raw magic. My hands are calloused from the many flowers and leaves I’ve plucked to see how they interact with the magic-infused water. One hundred and sixty two attempts to break this damn curse, disease—whatever this is—in our kingdom to free up our magic and return it to what it used to be. And each try has been a failure.
Cursing under my breath, I finish washing and drain the tub, reaching for a towel hanging on the wall next to me. I wrap the soft blue cotton around me and lean against the counter while I wait for the mirror to defog. My fingers drum on the glittering gray stone as I think about what I could possibly test next. The potency of Hadrik’s older magic gives new life to the plants, whereas the younger mage’s magic only temporarily feeds it. I have even tried combining mage magics in the past with no discernable difference in the outcome, but maybe I need to switch up the medium. Maybe water isn’t working as the correct conduit for the raw magic.
When the mirror clears, I stare at my gray eyes and blow out a breath. I know I’m reaching a point where others might tell me to give up, but I’ve always been a stubborn woman. My father likes to joke that I was born with enough moxie to lead two kingdoms. I just know—a feeling that can’t be explained—that I was made to do this. Why else would I be cursed with no magic of my own?
Chapter Six: Bahira
Thelowmurmurofvoices intensifies the closer I get to the throne room. The early morning sun is barely peeking through the thick canopy of trees, just enough to trickle in and dot the shiny black stone floors with little globes of golden light. It is a public forum day, a day where anyone can come and voice their concerns with my father, King Sadryn Daxel. Most of the time it is simple things, like a neighborly dispute over sheep or cows grazing on someone else’s property. Sometimes merchants will come and say they need more materials to set up their stands in different parts of the kingdom.
My father believes in always putting the people of the kingdom first. “What is the loss of the price of wood to us when it will mean so much to the one who needs it—when it will support their family for years to come?” he had said.And he is right; those requests are easy ones for him and the council to approve because they better everyone overall. The harder ones come from those who don’t understand why their magic is failing. While few and far between, the complacency of living in a peaceful kingdom is enough to nullify most concerns. And we are a peaceful kingdom. A part of me wonders if that knowledge gives us a false sense of security. Hell, it’s why Nox left four years ago—he had the same thought.
Outside, I can hear the chirping of the various birds through the open windows as I round the final corner and walk through the guarded double doors to the throne room. On the dais, my parents sit on their thrones made of twisted ancient banya trees, spelled vines and flowers woven throughout and in permanent bloom. An orderly line forms at the base of the dais and leads out through a second set of double doors on the other side of the room. My father signals the first mage to approach, and he climbs the stairs of the dais, stopping directly before my parents. I know there are a few council members who scoff at the fact that my parents allow the common public to approach so closely, who believe they should instead keep that pretend barrier up between royals and non-royals. It is idiotic to me. The people know who their king and queen are.
My father smiles warmly when he spots me before his attention shifts back to the young man speaking in front of him. I take my place leaning against a white stone wall, the picture hanging behind me a painting of one of the Mage Kingdom’s past rulers. It depicts the queen of Void Magic standing on the dais in this room and looking out at the mages dancing. The Autumnal Ball transforms this space into a sea of oranges, reds, golds, and greens. Yet it is the queen who steals the attention of the audience, shining as if she is the sun.
“Bored enough to attend today, Bahira?” Daje asks under his breath, coming to stand next to me.
I smirk as I look him over, his light blue shirt and gray training shorts stained with grass and dirt. “Too lazy to bathe before walking into the palace?” I counter with a raised brow.
“I just finished sparring. I was coming to see if you wanted to have lunch together, before I remembered it was public forum day.”
“Hmm, worked up an appetite getting your ass kicked?” I tease quietly, looking pointedly at his soil-marked clothing.
Daje snorts, the sound louder than he intended and drawing the attention of a few people, including my mother. He mouthssorryto her, stepping closer to the wall as if he can be absorbed into it. Her responding smile is mischievous as she shakes her head in pretend disapproval, flicking her curly brown hair—twin to mine—over her shoulder and turning back to the mage in front of her.
“I didn’t get my asstotallykicked,” Daje whispers as he leans in closer. “I managed to get Arin in the balls, not once, but twice.”
This time it’s me who lets out a totally inappropriate laugh that I try, and fail, to turn into a cough. The room falls silent, the stares of the other mages heavy on me as I pinch my lips together. When my father clears his throat and they all look back to the dais, I elbow Daje in his side. He chuckles quietly before turning and facing the thrones. A woman who looks to be in her third decade of life is talking, her hands gesturing wildly in front of her. I take note of her haggard appearance, her clothes rumpled and her hair gathered messily on her head.
“—he’s been missing for three days. It isn’t like him to just disappear like this,” she cries, wiping her cheek.
My mother leans forward in her throne, holding the woman’s hand between her own. “We will send out some men to look for him. Perhaps he was injured and is just in need of assistance.” Though my mother is doing her best to sound convincing, I can see her worry etched in the way the corners of her mouth tense. The woman doesn’t look reassured, but she nods her head all the same and thanks my parents before leaving the room, wiping her tears as she goes.
“That was odd,” Daje comments.
I nod. There are wild animals in the less populated parts of the kingdom that could definitely take down a mage: panthers, mountain lions, bears—any number of them could attack, rare as it would be. There’s even a chance he could have walked too close to the beach and got lured in by a siren’s song. Again, it’s rare but not out of the realm of possibility, I suppose.
