Page 36 of A Healer's Wrath
He’s so nervous. Sweet Spirits, his hand is shaking.
“I think you could be loved by your King, too.”
I fumbled my glass, splashing liquor across my pale green dress.
“Your Majesty—”
“Please, Irina, call me Melric, at least when we are alone.”
No one called him by his name, not even his closest friends.
I tried looking away, but the gaze of a king held power. It compelled with the force of a magic all its own. And when a king said he could love you, his gaze became the whole world.
He took my glass and set it on the table, then cradled my hands in his.
“Your Majesty, you will get brandy on your tunic.”
“First of all, my name is Melric.” He smiled, and some of his nerves seemed to settle.
“And second?”
“I have a palace full of servants to care for my tunic. A little brandy will not bother them one whit.” His smile brightened. “Irina, you became part of our family the day you first set foot in this Palace. Since then, you healed me in more ways than I can count. I have come to rely—no, that’s not right—I have come to enjoy—dammit—Irina, I need you.” He struggled a moment. “When you’re here, my heart is lighter. When you leave, the halls of this Palace grow dim.”
“Your Maj—Melric—” I was spluttering worse than the King.
“Please, let me get this out. I’ve been practicing for days.”
My eyebrows rose.
“Irina, I loved Asin with all my heart. You know this. Surely, you saw it.”
“Of course.”
“I could never replace her, and I will always love her. But . . . the Kingdom needs a Queen, and the Crown needs an heir. I need a partner. More than that, I need someone I can trust—and love—someone who will never leave my side.”
He reached into his pocket and removed a silk-wrapped bundle. His fingers trembled as he unfolded the cloth and revealed a thumb-sized emerald surrounded by diamonds atop a golden band.
I gasped.
I had seen that ring on the hand of Queen Asin many times.
“Irina Santender, will you be my Queen?”
Chapter nineteen
The Mages
Asilver chalice rested on a pedestal in the Chamber’s center, shimmering flame dancing above its rim. Intricate lines of silver and gold intertwined to form powerful symbols of magic across the floor, walls, and ceiling. Six Mages stood encircling the fiery goblet. Each face wore the same troubled expression.
Chandler spoke, breaking their silent contemplation. “There is no more time. She grows in strength and power by the day. The people flock to her, especially after her marriage to the King. It has been over five years since Johann’s visit. We must act.”
“She is a girl of eighteen. What threat is she to our combined might?” Elric crossed his muscled arms. “And just how would you have us act? Kill one of our own? Kill the Queen of Spires? She may not follow our path or live among our order, but she is still a Mage, one of us. The Phoenix would extract a price I doubt any here are willing to pay.”
“Bah! That silly old wives’ tale? We are the Phoenixes for this age.” Tasha looked into each Mage’s eyes. “But you’re right, she should not die. That precedent would be unhealthy for the rest of us.”
“Why are ya so fixated on dis girl, Tasha?” Isoldå asked, speaking for the first time since they’d gathered over an hour ago. “She does not’ing wit’ her power but Heal. Does she even know how t’ use it for anyt’ing else?”
Tasha ground her teeth and glared at the islander. “How can you ask that? Are you even more of an idiot that I already thought?’