I felt lighter when I woke up. Lighter and stronger. There was no aching in my muscles — nothing beyond what was to be expected after the exercises I had done with Aricor, at least. My mind felt clearer, and my senses seemed heightened as if before today, my ears had been plugged, and my vision blurred, and they had just now cleared up. I glanced at Thoridor, who was already awake, and staring at the murals on the wall across from my bed.

“Hi Thor,” I said, my voice still a touch hoarse from sleeping, “how did you sleep?”

He turned on his side and wrapped his arm around my waist. “Better than I ever have before,” he replied, and kissed my eyelids one by one.

“Come stay in my room from now on. These murals… I don’t know. They feel a little odd. I shouldn’t have made you stay here.”

My eyes scanned the walls. “I really don’t mind them,” I said dismissively, and pointed to the top layer of paintings, “look at how she’s depicted your people. Look at all the emotions. I think Morai cares very deeply about the Ardanians, and the curse.”

Thoridor nodded in agreement. “She does,” he said, “she always has. She takes after my mother — it’s why she does most of the Royal business. She’s better at it, and it actually interests her.”

I propped myself up on my elbows. “So why won’t she take over the throne, after your father hands down his crown? Ardanis is ruled by a Queen now too, isn’t it? Why not just let Morai be the next one?”

Thoridor sighed, and sat up. “It’s not that easy,” he said, “the crown is handed down from father to first-born son, to ensure our bloodline. I can’t just hand off that position.”

“Silly rules,” I mumbled, “so, if I understand correctly, if I become your mate, I will be required to give you a son?”

Thoridor was quiet for a moment. “Traditionally, yes,” he began reluctantly, “but you’re not required to do anything. I’ll be King, by that time, so I’ll make the rules. I suppose that means I can change them.”

That answer took me by surprise. “How about the Sorael?” I asked, “it’s meant to help the Crown Prince find his mate, is it not? So if you’re King, does it just seize to exist?”

“Not forever,” Thoridor replied, “just until the next Crown Prince comes of age. Then, he’ll have to carry out the Sorael from that point on.”

I sat up and tucked my legs under me, leaning toward Thoridor excitedly. “But what if you don’t have a son? What if there is no Crown Prince?”

Thoridor scratched his beard. “I don’t know,” he said pensively. “it’s part of the curse the Eldrim bestowed on us. Maybe all Kings are cursed to have sons too— I don’t know how that works. There’s never been a King who didn’t have a son.”

I thought about it for a second. “Can you tell me more about this Eldrim?” I asked, thinking back to what the Queen had said, when she told me about the curse.

Thoridor shifted uncomfortably. “Well,” he began, “she’s an ancient witch. They were thought to have gone extinct ages ago, until she revealed herself. She had been living amongst our people disguised as an Ardanian, and only revealed her true identity when her mate was killed.”

“Right,” I said, “that’s what the Queen told me. She killed herself after cursing our people, didn’t she?”

Thoridor frowned. “Not really,” he said, “she was killed by the Master of Arms of the fallen King.”

“Oh,” I said confusedly, “I thought the Queen said she burned herself to the ground.”

“She did,” Thoridor confirmed, “but that didn’t kill her. Fire doesn’t hurt witches.”

“Wait, wait—” I said, sliding off the bed, “then why did she burn herself?”

Thoridor got up too, and took my hands, pulling me close to his chest. “She just burned her vessel,” he said, “to reveal her Eldrim form.”

“What do Eldrims look like in their true form?” I asked. “They looked a lot like us,” Thoridor said, “they just had very large, black feathered wings instead of arms, and a yellow hue to their eyes. Maybe some of them looked different — I don’t know for sure.”

There was a knock on my door. “That’s probably Aricor,” Thoridor said, lifting my chin, “let’s get you dressed.” S~ᴇaʀᴄh the FɪndNovᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“I’ll meet you at breakfast,” I called through the door, and grabbed a stack of garments, taking them into the bathing chambers with me to change into them.

“Wait, Serin,” Thoridor said, “would you show me your back?”

I froze mid-step, and then slowly turned around. “I… are you sure?” I asked, “it’s not pretty. It’s very large, and a bit blotchy. It varies in color from a light pink to a deep, dark purple. It’s—”

“Please show me,” Thoridor cut me off, “if you’re comfortable enough.”

I took a deep breath, and turned around, facing away from him. I undid the cord around the neckline, and slipped the chemise over my shoulders, letting it fall to the small of my back, while clutching the front to my chest to cover my breasts.

Thoridor was quiet for a second as he beheld me. “It’s beautiful,” he said eventually, “may I touch it?”

I glanced over my shoulder, and saw he had stepped closer, admiring the markings on my shoulders.

“I suppose,” I said hesitantly. Thoridor reached out his hand, and brushed his fingertips along the mottled edge of the birthmark. I was immediately overtaken by sparks, and heat, and lust again. Thoridor’s lips were already on mine before I had even fully turned around. I clutched my chemise to my chest with one hand, and used my free arm to pull him closer.

Thoridor lifted me off my feet and wrapped my legs around his waist, carrying me to the bed again.

“Thor, no,” I whispered, “we can’t.”

Thoridor leaned back a little, so he could look at me.

“Right,” he said, “I’m sorry. I got carried away. Good job keeping a level head, love.”

“Hmm,” I said, “you need to put me down though.” I nodded to my legs, which were still wrapped around his waist, a hair’s width away from the bulge in his pants.

“Right,” Thoridor growled, “this is pretty dangerous, isn’t it?”

“It is,” I agreed, “so you should put me down.” Thoridor slid me down his front, setting my body on fire in the process.

“Love me yet?” he asked playfully.

“No. Get out, you beast,” I replied, “see you at breakfast.”

Thoridor chuckled, grabbed his chest piece and left the room.

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