WHISPER OF MAGIC
The night was quiet, save for the rustling leaves and the distant hoot of an owl. Alara stood in the castle's vast garden, the moon casting silver light over the sea of flowers swaying gently in the cold breeze. She inhaled deeply, the scent of damp earth and blooming roses filling her lungs, grounding her in the present.
She needed this moment of peace.
Her fingers trailed over the petals of a dying rose, its once-vibrant red now withered and dull. A pang of sadness struck her chest. Something about it reminded her of herself—trapped in a place where she didn't belong, wilting under forces beyond her control.
But unlike her, this flower had a chance.
Alara hesitated before cupping the rose between her hands, her fingers barely touching its fragile petals. She closed her eyes, reaching inward, to the part of herself, the magic.
A warmth stirred within her, traveling from her chest to her fingertips. It was soft at first, like the hum of a song she had long forgotten. Then, ever so gently, a golden shimmer seeped from her hands, weaving through the veins of the flower like liquid sunlight.
The rose twitched.
Then, before her eyes, its petals brightened, rich crimson bleeding back into them. The stem straightened, the brittle leaves turning lush once more. It was as if time had unraveled itself, undoing the flower's slow decay.
Alara let out a quiet breath, her heart pounding.
She glanced down at her hands, flexing her fingers. The magic was still there—still sizzling under her skin.
A sound behind her made her freeze.
"You shouldn't be out here alone at this hour."
Caspian's deep voice sent a shiver down her spine. She turned, finding him standing a few feet away, his emerald eyes glowing under the moonlight. Had he seen what she had done?
"I needed some air," she replied, hoping her voice didn't betray her.
Caspian didn't move, his gaze flickering to the flower she had just revived. For a moment, silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken things. Then, in a tone too quiet, he murmured—
"You are beautiful like that flower."
Alara paused. What? "I beg your pardon." She stared back at him.
"I was just appreciating your beauty." Caspian said with a flirtatious grin. His hands resting on his hip as he stared deep into her eyes, more like looking through her soul.
She blushed. She was not used to getting compliments from handsome men. She was always a wallflower, and had never had any type of interactions with a man before. Alara didn't understand why Caspian was openly flirting with her. She was married to his cousin.
Caspian chuckled as if he could hear her rippling thoughts. "Why do you look so stunned? Is my Kael not complimenting you enough?"
Alara's lips parted slightly, but no words came out. Was Kael complimenting her enough? That was a ridiculous question. He wasn't complimenting her at all.
She straightened, ignoring the warmth rising to her cheeks. "That is none of your concern, Lord Caspian," she said, forcing a firm tone.
Caspian smirked, stepping closer. "Oh, but I think it is." His voice was smooth, teasing, yet laced with something deeper. "After all, my cousin and I share many things. Perhaps his wife should be one of them."
Alara's eyes widened. "You—"
Caspian reached out, taking a strand of her hair between his fingers, rubbing it lightly before letting it slip away. "You're intriguing, Alara." His gaze flickered to the rose she had revived. "And powerful, it seems."
Alara took a step back, her heart pounding. What is wrong with this man?
"I think Kael is a fool," Caspian mused, watching her reaction closely. "If I had a wife as lovely as you, I wouldn't waste my time glaring at her across the room."
Alara's throat went dry. She was aware of how dangerous this conversation was—how wrong it was. And yet, Caspian's words unsettled her in a way she couldn't quite place.
"You should be careful with your words," she warned, though her voice lacked the sharpness she intended.
Caspian grinned. "I'm just stating the truth. You must know about his curse, no? The whole continent knew. And you still agreed. Were you that brave?"
"I didn't have a choice. It was more like an order, and I would trade anything for my kingdom." She said, pride and bravery dripping from her voice.
Caspian looked impressed by her answer. "Father was right. You are a gem."
Alara's eyes wide at the mention of the Lord Eryndor. Were they talking about her? The Fae lord, who treated humans as enemies for centuries was taking good about one from the same species?
Caspian smirked, stepping closer, his movements slow, deliberate. "But I wonder, Alara… Do you truly believe in this marriage?"
Alara frowned. "What are you getting at?"
Caspian hummed, his expression thoughtful, almost amused. "Kael is cursed," he said, as if she didn't already know. "You must have wondered, at least once, what that means for you."
Alara swallowed but held her ground. "I know enough."
"Do you?" Caspian countered, his eyes gleaming with something unreadable. "You will never have a normal marriage, Alara. No matter what you do, no matter how much you try—Kael cannot give you what a husband should."
Her pulse quickened. "That's not—"
"Not true?" Caspian interrupted, tilting his head. "Tell me, has he ever touched you? Has he ever even tried? No, because he knew he could kill you by trying." His smirk deepened as he saw the flicker of uncertainty in her expression. "You're his wife, and yet, he will always be just out of reach. How tragic."
Alara clenched her fists. She didn't know why his words affected her, but they did. It wasn't as if she wanted that kind of intimacy with Kael… did she?
Caspian watched her closely, reading every flicker of emotion that crossed her face. Then, after a moment, he chuckled softly. "I almost pity you." His voice was laced with amusement, but there was something else beneath it—something darker.
Alara forced herself to take a step back, shaking off whatever strange spell he was casting over her. "I don't need your pity."
Caspian merely smiled. "No, I suppose you don't." He let his gaze linger on her for a moment longer before turning away, his tone light, playful once more. "But you might, soon enough."