Twisted Beauty (A Sleeping Beauty Tale)

Chapter Thirty-One

Hours later, Drake and I lay on his bed together, our legs tangled and our breathing in sync. Drake's lips were at my throat, and he gently brushed kisses against my skin. Every now and then, he would rest his head against my chest – as if to reassure himself that I was there; I was alive.

"Would you let me heal you?" he asked against my throat. I shivered at the feeling and he pulled away, much to my dismay. His eyes had become more serious; concerned, even. And despite the fear I once had for magic, I nodded. A wave of relief seemed to run through him and he indicated to my leg. "May I?" Another nod.

With tentative movements, Drake lifted the hem of my nightdress and began to unbind my leg with nimble fingers. With a jolt, I realised that he had changed my clothing. There were no women at the manor, and he wouldn't let the guards do such a thing, so it had been him. I silently cursed the red seeping into my cheeks.

But the thought was forgotten upon seeing the wound on my leg. I sucked in a breath at the sight, my stomach twisting. The cut was long and jagged, running up my thigh. No blood surrounded it, so it had closed, but it was clear that it would not heal by itself any time soon.

"You don't have to watch," Drake said. It wasn't the magic that I was afraid of – it was the wound itself; being injured. Drake, though he might not have known the source of my nervousness, placed one hand on my leg and used the other to cup my cheek. He leaned down and kissed me long and slow – a distraction, I realised after a moment. Warmth seeped through my leg and I tried to pull away out of shock, but it was only when the warmth had disappeared that he let me go.

The wound was gone. No scars or marks whispered of its presence. It was healed.

"Thank you," I said quietly, tentatively touching where the wound had been just moments ago. It didn't hurt – there was no trace of it at all. Silently pulling the hem of my nightdress down again, I let my mind drift to everything that had happened. "My aunt never mentioned that she had magic."

Drake stilled, as if waiting for me to scold him about his lies, but when I did no such thing, he cautiously asked, "Are you angry with her as well?" I wanted to say that I forgave her, but something cold twisted in my heart. She had called me a whore and tried to keep me from going with Drake. It wasn't just that she had lied about the magic. That much, I could forgive. But to change so suddenly from a sweet aunt was more than unusual.

"I honestly don't know what to think of her," I finally said, running a hand through my hair. "Why did she come for me? How did she even know where we were?" And Leighton had been with her. He was no longer a royal guard, so it made little sense.

"I suspect she used a scrying spell," he replied. I frowned, not sure what he meant by that. "It's a way of searching or watching people." The thought that anyone could scry was unsettling, but I dismissed it as I nibbled on my lip.

There was so much about magic that I didn't know – growing up, I was told it was used as healing and in battles, but no one taught me any specifics. Magic users were so rare on my kingdom. Or so I thought – having seen so many in Kallis, I began to wonder how many people I knew possessed magic. You could not tell from appearances or personality, so they would have to reveal themselves.

"Could you teach me about your magic?" I asked. An eyebrow rose at that, and it was only a moment later that he realised I was being serious. Slowly, he nodded. "You mentioned before that you could glimpse into minds – what did you mean by that?"

He pursed his lips in thought; trying to figure out how to explain it, I realised after a moment. "It allows me to read emotion quite well," he finally said. "I cannot look into the mind itself, but I'm able to know thoughts based upon emotions – the two are interlinked quite closely. For example, the guards have facades they wear; a calmness they are taught. But watching their eyes or small reactions will reveal quite a lot."

It was fascinating, and a skill that would be useful to him as royalty. I supposed that it explained how he acted upon first arriving in Eshon – at first, I could sense his calculating gaze. He was assessing; reading our emotions. And when he realised that we had no ill intentions, he opened up more and relaxed.

"Are there rules to magic?" I asked. Because surely such a gift would have a price.

A single nod. Drake laced his fingers behind his head as he answered. "Magic is a part of us. A . . . muscle, I suppose. The more you use it, the stronger it gets. But overusing it will injure you – the same way that doing too much exercise will exhaust you. We are taught at a young age to slowly go into the depths of our magic and bring it out slowly. Go too far and you'll lose yourself. Go too fast and you'll lose control.

"With a little practice, we are able to shape our magic and broaden what we can control. Generally, our magic is sorted into different categories: healing, elements and death. There is overlap, however – I can primarily control the elements, but also possess weak healing magic. The healer in your kingdom likely also has a little control over another category."

I thought over his words, my stomach twisting. One of the categories he listed was death. Did some people truly control death itself, being able to inflict it on those they deemed not worthy of life? This was the type of magic I feared my whole life; the type to destroy.

Drake seemed to read my thoughts – likely using his gift of magic – and took my hand in his. I met his eyes, the unease slowly leaving me. I trusted him; that much I had made clear to myself. And if he wasn't afraid of those types of magic users, I had no reason to be. Besides, I had met few magic users, and none seemed to possess death.

"Can you show me?" I asked, curiosity gnawing at me. I could guess that the magic user at the market controlled the elements, from his use of fire, and it made me wonder what Drake could do. He could control the elements, and I got a glimpse of his healing and whatever he had done by the waterfall, but I wanted to know more.

A smile tugging at his lips, Drake sat up and cupped his hands to form a bowl-like shape. "Some magic users are gifted with a specific element," he was saying. "I was gifted with fire as my main element, and can also control the basics of the others."

I peered into his cupped hands, waiting for something to happen. At first, nothing did. But a moment later, I felt warmth radiating from them, and a small flame appeared. I waited for the fear to seep into my veins, but when it didn't, I tentatively reached out to the flame. It was warm but did not burn me as I brushed my fingers through it. It reminded me of the market.

"What aspect of your power did you use by the waterfall?" I asked, glancing up from the flame.

He was silent for a few moments, before finally replying, "None. I used magic in its rawest form." I straightened and gave him a frown. He had told a half-truth. Not quite a lie, but not the truth, either. At least, his voice seemed to suggest so. But after realising how much lied upset me, why lie now? Was it something to protect me, like how he refused to tell me what happened in Kallis? Or was I just thinking too hard about it? Drake's expression was blank, and I could tell that questioning him would get me nowhere.

I decided against questioning him, and decided to change the subject. "Any news from the kingdoms?"

"None," he sighed, the flame disappearing. "I tried to send a guard to Kallis and get answers, but Father seems to have locked the Gate. No one can travel to or from the manor until he allows it. I don't know if that means something has happened or whether he doesn't want to risk people finding this place, but it means we have no source of news." Disappointing, but I silenced my own sigh. I wanted to know what was happening in Eshon. Did my parents know? No doubt they had heard about the attacks, but did they know I was alive and well? Did they know what Diane and Leighton were doing?

I paused my thoughts at that. If Diane knew where I was and she had the ability to teleport, wouldn't she alert my parents of my whereabouts? Or perhaps she was trying to take me to them when she called for me. But the way she had spoken . . . she had called me like I was a dog. Told me to come to her as if I wasn't a person. I shoved down the boiling in my gut, clearing out the fury with a deep breath.

And forcing a smile onto my face, I asked Drake what we could do to fill the rest of the day.