The Mirror King (The Orphan Queen, #2)

“As long as you know what you’re asking.” I slipped around Tobiah to the desk and touched the smooth covers. He shifted his weight as though to look around me and watch, but I shot a scowl and he moved back without a word. “Wake up,” I whispered. “Be the same. What is written in one will be written in the other—at the same time and in the same hand—no matter the distance.”


Dizziness washed through me. Gasping, sweating, I swayed as blankness swarmed at the edges of my vision.

“Princess?” James’s voice was distant, but his hand on my shoulder was solid.

“I’m fine.” I’d leaned onto the desk, both palms digging against the wood. As my vision and stability returned, I breathed through the remaining light-headedness and stood, waving James off. “Thank you.”

He withdrew.

Magic this small didn’t usually hit so hard. But I hadn’t ever animated multiple things at once, and kept them animated. Add the wraith boy to that, and it was a wonder I was still standing.

I’d need to avoid using magic for a while.

“Your half,” I said, handing one notebook to Tobiah. “And your half.” I gave the second to James.

“Thank you.”

There was a hard look on the king’s face as he ran a finger down the notebook’s spine, as though feeling for the magic. “You can’t know what this means to me.”

Except I did, because I knew the bond he and James shared. I’d have given anything to be able to communicate with Melanie now.

Saints, I hoped she was well. Safe. Waiting for me in Sandcliff Castle.

Outside, a whistle blew, signaling the convoy’s imminent departure. “You should see your uncle before we’re off,” I said.

Tobiah swallowed hard and met my eyes for a long moment. “Farewell, Wilhelmina.”

That was all.





TWENTY-THREE


THE CONVOY LEFT Skyvale with much more pomp and celebration than it was really warranted. The cheers and bells followed us out of Hawksbill and on through Thornton, almost making me wish I’d stayed in my wagon, hidden and warm. But what I’d told Tobiah had been the truth.

I’d come to the Indigo Kingdom as a prisoner of war. I refused to leave in the same manner.

Through the crowded streets of White Flag, I was grateful for my hood, pulled low to hide my face, and my long cloak that concealed the fine cut and cloth of my dress. Ferguson plodded along near my wagon, but not so close as to give away my identity. James rode nearby, straight and tall on his own gelding.

At last, the city gate closed behind us, and the convoy began the long trek up the mountains, made difficult by the wagons and number of people. There had to be thousands of us.

“Are you doing well, Your Highness?” James asked as we pulled farther from the city. Bare trees shivered around us. A cold wind gusted through the woods, and the sky turned silver and sharp with the scent of a coming storm.

“I’m fine.”

“How does it feel to go home for the first time in almost ten years?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

James drew his horse alongside Ferguson so he didn’t have to lift his voice. “I think I’d be nervous. It’s your home, but so many things have changed since you were last there. You’ve changed.”

“I said—”

“I know, but you’re not talking. I am.”

“So King Tobiah sent you to annoy me.”

“That’s one of the reasons.” He lifted his face to the sky, drawing in a long, deep breath. “Another is that I asked to come.”

I pulled my hood lower over my brow and glanced at the wagons rumbling and the soldiers calling and the horses snorting. A few flakes of snow escaped the clouds, drifting between the evergreen trees. “Did you want to see Aecor?”

James caught a snowflake in his gloved hand and held it while it melted. “I’ve been there before, with my mother when I was a small child. I don’t remember it, though. I don’t remember much from when I was young.”

“Not everyone does.” I relaxed my grip on Ferguson’s reins. “And some people remember more than they want.”

“You’re thinking of the One-Night War.” His eyes were gentle and understanding, and that was almost worse than the blankness in Tobiah’s this morning. I didn’t want James’s pity.

“Do you remember the war?” I asked.

“Parts. I remember wanting to protect Tobiah when General Lien came for him. And I remember parts of the journey home.”

“You weren’t in Aecor that night.” I leaned forward as Ferguson climbed a steep hill. The rest of the convoy slowed on the tracks as the horses strained. Men pushed against the backs of the wagons, chanting to keep in step with one another.

“No,” James muttered. “I got hurt on the way there. The general left me to die, but the Indigo Army rescued me on the return trip.” A frown creased between his eyes. “I barely remember it.”

“The saints must be watching over you. Left for dead during the One-Night War, shot through the gut during the Inundation: you survived both.”

“I pray to all nine saints every morning and night. I suppose it’s working.” His smile was strained, though. “Your Highness, about the wedding—”