Lyra's POV
If anyone had told me yesterday that I would wake up in the royal palace, I would have laughed at them and asked what they were drinking.
Now I know the answer. A very expensive betrayal with a slight citrus note. I woke up to silk.
That is the first betrayal.
Silk sheets, silk curtains, silk pillows soft enough to suffocate in. I didn't move at first. I just lie there, staring up at a ceiling painted with gold constellations that actually glow faintly, because of course they do. Magic never misses an opportunity to be dramatic.
My head hurts. Memory comes back in violent flashes: The cafe blew up. Masked enforcers. Fire going wild. My hands on his face. How the flames folded in as if they were afraid of me. And after that... Your Highness.
I groan and press the heel of my hand to my forehead. Well, I did insult a prince, didn't I? Not just any prince though.
The prince. Kael Dravaryn. Blade of the Crown. Heir to Virellion. Walking weapon with a superiority complex.
And yet, I treated his face as if it were a burnt piece of bread.
I suddenly sat up. The chamber is huge. Light from the sun comes through high, arched windows that are decorated with dark velvet. The furniture is made of pale wood, elegantly and strictly carved. There's a closet bigger than my entire room at home.
Home. Moonbrew. I ran out of the bed like a rocket. "I have to leave," I say under my breath to no one at all. My boots are neatly placed beside the bed. Neatly. I glare at them. "I did not do that." Only, it means that someone else did.
It also means that someone else has touched my boots. I don't like this feeling at all.
Without really thinking, I put the boots on and start walking towards the door, but a hand on, the door's swing blocking me nearly runs me over.
There standing the young maid, still and stiff as a statue. Well, she isn't quite that old. Dark hair tied in a very strict bun. Beautifully upright body. Eyes full of fear.
"Good morning, " she said hurriedly. "The Prince wants you at breakfast."
"No way, " I answered her.
She stares at me. "I, excuse me?"
"I'm out of here."
Her face drains of color. "You cannot."
"Watch me."
I step out into the hallway. And I stand still. There are two royal guards standing at the door. Huge. In armor. Very still. They didn't even turn their faces to me. I think over my choices:
Choice one: Run.
Choice two: Scream.
Choice three: Throw something.
I scan the room for something to throw. The maid gently clears her throat. "Miss Vale, His Highness has guaranteed your safety."
"That's very reassuring, " I say coldly. "I'm sure kidnappers say that too."
The guards are still like statues. I take a deep breath.
Okay. Think, Lyra.
You are inside the royal palace. You are surrounded by people who can use magic. You have done the impossible just now. And now the prince is asking for breakfast. This is going to be either a killing or an interrogation. Or both.
"Alright, " I say under my breath. "Show me the way."
The maid visibly relaxes. We make our way through corridors decorated with portraits of dead royals whose eyes seem to be judging us as ancestors. The floors are marble and very shiny. The air smells slightly of jasmine and something sharper, maybe ozone. Magic has its own scent. Like metal just before lightning strikes.
I can sense it here. Not at all subtle. Magic is so strong, it is in the very walls, the air, the people we see. And there is something quiet underneath my skin that presses back.
Like it always does. Like it did last night.
I can't figure it out. I don't want to figure it out.
We stop in front of a huge double door. The maid nods to the guards. They open them.
The dining hall is ridiculous.
Long table. Crystal chandeliers. Windows overlooking the city. Silverware that probably costs more than my entire life. And at the head of the table
Prince Kael Dravaryn. He's not wearing armor today. Which somehow makes him even more dangerous. Dark shirt. Sleeves rolled to his forearms. Black hair loose instead of pulled back. No crown. He looks almost normal. Except that if normal people carried themselves like executioners.
He doesn't stand when I enter. He just watches me. "Good morning," he says. His voice is calm. Measured. Like he didn't almost set fire to half my workplace.
"Debatable, " I say.
The maid goes out, her doors softly closing behind her. The sound echoes. There is nobody but us. I am standing. " You kidnapped me."
"I was given royal authority to take you."
"That is a very nice way of saying I was taken."
A faint hint of something almost amused flashes in his eyes. "You weren't in handcuffs."
"There were swords."
"That's the standard."
"For what? Brunch?"
He slightly leans his back against the chair. "You have such incredible self-control."
"It's because I'm powered by hatred."
"I get it." He points to the chair in front of him. "Sit."
"No."
Silence.
His gaze became very intense. Definitely not aggressive. He was just assessing. "You are not in any danger," he assured me.
"That's up to one's interpretation." He breathed out slowly as if he was personally very tired of me.
"Lyra."
However, his way of pronouncing my name messes with my heartbeat in an irritating way. "You have been involved in a magical surge which was a part of a royal curse."
"Sounds like a you problem again."
"The moment you came in contact with me, it ceased being a you problem."
I feel frozen. That definitely was a wrong thing to say. He picks it up. His lips almost form a smile
"Your resistance," he explains. "It neutralized my magic."
"I didn't do anything."
"You did."
"I grabbed your face and stopped an inferno."
"That was a coincidence."
"I do not believe in coincidence."
"Well, I do."
He looks at me again. There's something different in his eyes this morning. Less fire. More curiosity. It's worse.
"I need to understand what you are," he says quietly.
I feel my temper flare. "I am not an object."
His jaw tightens. "That is not what I meant."
"It's exactly what you meant."
Silence again. He folds his hands together on the table. "Humans can't disrupt royal spellcraft."
"Congratulations," I say. "You have found a very strange one."
His eyes become a little narrowed. "You are not afraid."
"Not true. I am scared."
"Then why are you still arguing?"
"Because I don't want to cry in front of you."
That actually makes him respond. A short breath that could have been a laugh. It's gone very soon. "I could keep you here for questioning," he says.
"Go on."
There is a change in the atmosphere. Only a little. I sense it again the vibration of his power awakening. And underneath my skin, that silent opposition replies. Just like two magnets trying to separate. His eyes went down. He gets it. The charm is gone. Interesting.
We both act like nothing happened.
"I will not detain you, " he finally says.
"Good."
"You will stay in the palace."
"That sounds like detention."
"For your safety."
"I was quite safe while making coffee."
"You were attacked by council enforcers."
"They were attacking you."
"They were attacking what you did."
I was about to say something. But I didn't. He's right. That's so frustrating. "What do you want?" I say. There is no doubt in his mind. "To test you."
I stare at him. "Absolutely not."
"It will be controlled."
"No."
"You may refuse."
"Great. I refuse."
He tilts his head slightly. "And if I tell you that the council now believes you are a threat?"
My stomach drops. "That's not funny."
"I'm not joking." I look at his face. He's serious.
"Why would they think that?"
"Because you messed with a curse that was designed by the High Council itself."
I blink. "Hold on. So, they made your curse?"
His face breaks into a frown. "That has nothing to do with it."
"It seems like a big deal to me."
"It's political."
"So, it is your own government that is against you."
"Exactly."
"And you just accept that, no problem?"
His lips pressed together tightly. "That is not your business."
"It is if you're involving me in it."
He gets up. And it's unfair how tall he is. Unfair how controlled he looks. Unfair how steady. "Lyra, " he murmured, "if the council thinks you are a threat, they will do it without a second thought."
A shiver runs through me. "You can't just threaten me again like that."
"This is not a threat, I am only informing you. I feel it's the same energy." .He moves a little closer. Not close enough to invade the space. But just enough for me to notice the slight dark circles under his eyes. He is tired. In fact, he looked completely worn out.
"You soothed it," he goes on in a low voice. "The spell."
I gulp. "I'm not sure how."
"That's what we will find out."
"What if I refuse?"
He didn't look away. "Then I will have to select between keeping you safe and keeping the kingdom safe."
My heart races. "And you'd pick the kingdom?"
"Yes."
No hesitation. It shouldn't hurt. We only just met. He's a prince. I'm a barista. But still, something in my chest twists.
"Honesty, " I say tightly. "Thanks."
"I don't lie about my priorities."
"That's comforting."
He looks at me once more. "You can go back to your cafe." Relief washes over me. "For now."
There it is.
"But you will come back, " he goes on. "Of your own accord."
"Why would I?"
"Because you will want answers."
He's right. I hate that he's right. I cross my arms. "You're assuming I care."
"I'm just noting that you wouldn't have run into fire if you didn't."
I hesitate. He noticed that. Of course, he did. "You're really getting on my nerves, " I whisper.
"So I've been told."
A silence is stretched between us. Less hostile now. More... charged. "I don't trust you, " I say.
"You should not."
"Alright."
"But I will not hurt you, " he added in a low voice.
I look him in the face once more. There is something calm and sure in his eyes. Not gentleness. Not quite. But a firm belief of doing the right thing. "I will consider it, " I said.
I face the door. My heart is pounding wildly. I stretch my hand to the handle
"Lyra."
I stopped. "What?"
His voice is even lower now. Not prince. No blade. Only... him. "Thanks," he says. The words come in a very weird way. Heavy. Surprising.
"For what?," I say.
"For stopping me."
I am at a loss how to react. So, I just shrug. "Try not to burn my place again, please."
A very small smile appears on his lips. "No promises."
I left before my face gave me away. The corridor seems to be colder now. Brighter. More real. I pick up my pace. My boots are sounding a rhythmic thump on the marble floor. I should be free from fear. I should be sprinting to get away. But instead, the images of the fire engulfing the room play again and again in my mind. How his magic was turned against him. How mine, if you can call that thing mine was the one responding to the call.
I put a hand to my heart. It's still quiet there. Sleeping. Not quite dead. "Human, " I murmured to myself. That's what I am. That's what I have always been.
So why did his magic seem to be something I already knew? And why did it seem to recognize me?
Outside the palace gates, the city is waiting. Unaware. Unchanged. But I am now wiser. I have gone beyond the talks and a run down coffee maker in a cafe. And whether I want it or not The prince and I are now involved in the same fire. I just pray that I won't be the one to get burnt first.