A deadly fae assassin needs to uncover the truth about her existence while also carrying out the task she's hired for. Only, she never planned to fall in love with the biggest adversary in her mission-or rather fall in love at all.
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Larkspur i...
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“You shouldn’t have jumped in like that.” The girl is applying a soothing salve on the boy’s arm. If it hurts, he doesn’t show any expression on his face.
“I didn’t know how else to save you.”
“I didn’t need saving.”
“This happened because you refuse to use your magic.”
“You know what happens when I use my magic.” I girl whispers. “When I use my magic, it goes out of control. I can’t—”
The door opens and a young lady walks in. She’s wearing cream, quite a contrast from everyone in black around. Her hair is a shock of orange like a bright flame on her head. “I brought some food for you kids.” She places down a tray of something that smells of chocolates. And sure enough, it’s a plate of donuts, glazed with liquid chocolate and drizzled with rainbow sprinkles, almost like something the nobles would feast on.
The boy looks at her with undisguised suspicion but the girl is more cordial. “Wow, you made them?”
“Yes, sugar helps heal.”
“But the white-haired lady?”
“Tempest is none of your concern. I insist you have this food or she won’t get dinner tonight.” The lady winks at them.
“Wait, who are you?” the boy asks.
“I’m Cordelia. I manage the kitchen.” The lady picks up the plate and offers them the donuts. They pick one each and bit into them. The donuts are indeed different from whatever they used to get at the orphanage.
“So,” she continues, “I heard something about magic.”
“She refummhes to trymm amd use her magicmhm.” The boy mumbles, biting a large piece and chewing noisily.
“And why so, kid?” her eyes are kind as she turns to the girl.
“Because whenever I use my magic, someone gets hurt.” The girl shrugs.
“Well, then use your magic where no one is there. I can show you a place.”
“Yes!” the boy punches the air.
“No!” the girl fidgets with her dress.
“I can teach you to control your magic if you want.” Cordelia offers her hand to the girl.
“You can do magic?”
“Of course.” She snaps her fingers and the half-eaten donut turns full again.
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“So the guards just let you go?”
“Yes, they had nothing to gain from me.” I put back the book in my hand and withdraw another from the shelf.
“So nothing happened that I should know about?”
“No!” I avoid Hemlock and move to the opposite shelf.
“And what are we doing at this odd hour here?” he turns towards me, his mouth almost at my ear.
“Trying to find anything that’s useful I guess.”
“Lark you know that’s not how”—a student stares at us on her way across the book aisles—“we need to find the book.”
“With the campus on lockdown, it’s riskier to try any tricks!” I whisper.
“Since when are you afraid?” he chides.
“Since when are you so foolish as to not understand what’s at stake?” I bite back. Hemlock grabs my arms against my side and presses me against the bookshelves. My back hits the shelves and the books rattle behind me. There’s something raw in his eyes, something that borders on rage, but that isn’t directed at me. I look around furtively, afraid someone would see us.
“You know what happens if we fail, right? You—I—I can’t let anything happen to you.” His breathing is wild, his nostrils flaring.
“What do you think will happen once the mission is over? They won’t let us go scot-free to tell tales.” I turn my eyes away so he doesn’t have to see what I’m feeling.
“They what?” Hemlock steps back from me as if scalded. “No, they can’t.”
“I knew this was a suicide mission, Hem! Why are you so surprised? You aren’t so naïve. They’re rebels, killers. They’ll go to any length to ensure their stand against the crown.”
“But we’re one of them. How dare they? We’ll run far away. We can protect each other.” Standing close to him, I can feel he’s shaking all over and strangely I don’t feel anything. Rather I’m worried someone might see us. I guess knowing your ultimate fate gives you clarity for your future.
“There’s no we. There’s only me.” I breathe. Why does it hurt to say this? “I’ve talked it all out with them. You’ll know nothing about the final plan in the game and so after all this is over, you can go free and settle wherever you like.”
“I’m not agreeing to this.”
“Hem!” The tone in my voice makes him stop. He opens and closes his mouth, scrunching his face. It’s one of the rare situations in our delicate balance where our roles are reversed and I am the one in charge. “I’d rather they put a bullet through me than be burned to death by my own magic.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Come with me.” I float towards the aisle of magical mythology and gesture for him to follow.
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