A Deal with the Elf King (Married to Magic, #1)(22)

“You’re my queen, I really shouldn’t—”

“Willow, it’s fine,” I repeat, firmer. “It’s nice to have someone treat me kindly, like a friend.”

He looks suddenly uncomfortable and stands. When he continues speaking, his head is down and his hands are busy cleaning his tools and sorting his supplies. “In any case, yes, the Human Queen is Midscape’s connection to the Natural World.”

“Does everywhere in Midscape look like this? Springtime?” I ask.

He nods. “Because of the Human Queen—you—sitting on the redwood throne, nature could flow into this world.”

“Through me,” I whisper and shudder, thinking of the magic that raged through my body. The phantom pain of roots digging into me alights under my skin. The sensation of my soul, my life, being torn from my bones is searing hot. I feel a thousand needs screaming at me at once and I am just one woman; I couldn’t possibly help them all.

All I want is my shop. I want my patients. I want a world I can understand and a small corner to look after.

I asked to take care of people, yes… But nothing prepared me for this. Not my parents, not the academy, and not the Keepers. My ineptitude may be more of a detriment than an aid.

“Does that answer your questions?” Willow interrupts my pity party.

“One more.”

“Yes?”

“Why does the Human Queen have magic?” I ask. “No other human does.”

“Right, magic was lost to humans when the Fade was erected.”

I resist pointing out how unfair it is that the thing that keeps humans safe from wild magic—the Fade—is also what removed humans’ natural magic.

“Does the queen keep her magic because she marries the Elf King?” I pause. “No, that can’t be…because the magic comes to the Human Queen before she marries the King.”

“The queen’s magic is a bit of a mystery.” It sounds as though he’s wondered this many times before as well. “The prevailing lore is that the first Human Queen was actually, in part, an assistant builder of the Fade. Since she was, her magic can penetrate the Fade and that magic is passed down from woman to woman in the city where she came from.”

“I see.” I sigh.

“It’s not really a satisfying answer, is it?” He misreads my disappointment.

“It’s magic. I’m finding that magic only loosely makes sense.” I shake my head and murmur, “I just wish it were different is all…” Then, I continue stronger, “You were alive when the last queen was, right?”

“Yes, but I was a child.”

I’m reminded of what Eldas said. The stories of the elves living for hundreds of years is greatly exaggerated. I doubt Willow is much older than I am. In fact, I wouldn’t be shocked if he was a year or two younger.

“What did she do after she sat on the throne?” What will the rest of my existence be like here?

“She—”

“Your Highness, I really must insist!” A burst of commotion and a shrill woman’s voice interrupts Willow. “She’s still far too weak.”

“She what?” I press. Willow glances helplessly at me as I try and get the information from him.

The door opens and I don’t get my answer. Standing in the frame are two new faces. In the background is a woman with the same dark shade of skin as Willow, her wiry, gray hair pulled in a messy bun.

In front of her is a young man with a shade of raven hair—glistening of purples and blues in its shade, like an oil slick—that’s too unique to be chance. Even though I’ve only seen it a handful of times, that hair is seared onto my memory. Yet this man’s nose is slightly more flat, eyes slightly more rounded.

Even with the differences, there’s no denying my initial assumption—Eldas has a brother.





Chapter 9





“If it isn’t the new Human Queen, here at last.” He smiles widely at me and claps his hands. “What an honor to finally meet you. I do hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

“No, Prince Harrow.” Willow stares at his toes, looking instantly uncomfortable. Willow’s unease prickles the sensation up my arms. Something is wrong just because of Harrow’s mere presence.

“Good. Both of you may leave.” Harrow waves Willow and the woman behind him off.

“I told you, Your Highness, that she needs to be resting.” The elderly elf woman places her hands on her hips as she tuts at the prince like he’s a child. “You can have your fun at a later time.”

Fun? I really don’t like the sound of that. Prickling unease has turned into claws raking under my skin.

“I can have my fun whenever it pleases me. That’s one benefit of being a prince,” he says with a slow grin working its way onto his lips. “Now, shoo. Both of you away. I decree this interaction royal business.”

“Eldas will hear about this.” The woman still has yet to move.

“Run and tell my brother.” Harrow rolls his eyes. “You always do, Poppy.”

“Someone has to keep you in check. Not as if your mother does,” she mutters. But instead of leaving, she crosses over to me and places her hand on my forehead. “I’m Poppy, dearie. I come from a long line of royal healers. So if you need anything you just call for me or Willow.”