Borrowed Magic (31 page)

“So you accepted?”

He sighed and faced her. “No. I told them I
didn’t want to be king, that it wasn’t a good idea for someone with
my power to have that much control over the lives of others. Only
they won’t accept it. Even after what happened, even after seeing
it with their own eyes.” He frowned. “I think they hope if they
call me ‘Your Majesty’ enough, I’ll eventually get used to the
idea.”

She took his hands in hers. “Philip, you’re
not your father. You never could be.”

“That’s up for argument, but even if you’re
right, what about our son, or our grandson, or great-grandson?”

The thought of which left her breathless but
also made her want to smile. He hadn’t even realized he’d said
“our.”

“They’re bound to inherit some level of
magic. How do we know they won’t be like Kern? Do we want to risk a
dark mage-king?”

She thought for a moment. “No, we don’t. But
there’s a solution to that. You could accept on condition. Maybe
the Council would have to approve the next king, even if preference
goes to the heir. If there were any question of loyalty or fear of
what kind of man he was, they could choose someone else in his
place. At any time – even after he took the crown. And we invite
magic back into Tredare to ensure any magical, ill-intentioned heir
can be kept in check.”

Philip wandered over to a bench that looked
stable enough to sit on and pulled her along behind him. “But I
don’t want to be king.”

She gave him a small, almost-apologetic
smile. “I know, but better you, who doesn’t want it, than someone
who does for all the wrong reasons.”

He stared at her for a long time and she
could see his indecision warring inside. “On one condition.” He
finally said as he took her hand. “That you’ll be my queen.”

She threw her arms around his neck.
“Always.”

Then he kissed her. Without fear lurking in
the background. Without the knowledge she was going to die. Without
anything standing in their way.

“I love you, Maren. More than I could have
imagined. I don’t even know how to show you, or tell you, or help
you understand how much.”

She hugged him tighter. “I already
understand.” And she did. She felt the same way about him. But it
was even more than that. She could feel his love like a physical
force, keeping her alive and holding her together.

Almost as if it were a part of her.

Thirty-three

It was
déjà vu. Maren sat in the front row, listening to the excited
whispers of the crowd in the Great Hall. A much larger crowd than
Philip would have wanted. But this time, instead of being nervous,
she was almost surreally happy, despite everything that had
happened.

It had only been a week since Philip had
gone to Lord Berk and accepted the Council’s request, and she’d
spent much of the time with Adare, who barely left her room. It was
just too hard. There were too many memories of Daric. But Maren
held out hope Adare would be all right – eventually. The former
queen had agreed to exile for the young man who had killed her
husband, saying his death wouldn’t make her pain go away. It was a
start.

There hadn’t been enough time before the
coronation to repair the damage to the Hall. Berk had wanted to
try, but Philip refused. He’d let them clean up the broken glass
and clear away the debris. He’d even consented to boarding up the
hole in the ceiling and the worst of the windows. Other than that,
it was the same as the day Kern had been killed. The scorch marks,
the torn curtains, the throne that still lay in pieces. Philip
wanted it left as a reminder of what power could do. Not forever.
Just today. The day they’d chosen a mage as their king.

The room quieted, and she watched Philip
walk down the aisle, head bent, hands at his sides. He was all in
black and a silver sword hung at his side. There was no fanfare, no
pronouncement of his name, nothing. Just him and the people. His
people.

He stopped in front of Lord Berk and knelt.
Maren could feel his nervousness and knew that if she could see
them, his hands would be shaking. Just like her own.

She barely heard any of the
actual ceremony, too caught up in Philip’s emotions. Something had
happened when he’d saved her, when he’d shared a part of his magic.
At first, she hadn’t understood why she was so in tune with
Philip’s feelings, had thought she was reading his body language or
he was telling her more than he was. But as the days went by, she
realized it was more than that. She could
feel
when he entered a room. She
could
sense
his
every emotion, even if he wasn’t looking at her, and more recently,
even if he wasn’t near.

She hadn’t told Philip yet. He’d been too
busy with everything else, and she hadn’t known quite how to
explain it to him.

Lord Berk lifted the crown over Philip’s
head and began the final part of the ceremony. She could feel his
apprehension – and his desire to flee – and she couldn’t help but
smile. Then Berk lowered the crown. It was as if she felt the
crushing weight of responsibility on her own shoulders as it
settled into place. She wanted to run to Philip and lace her
fingers through his, to reassure him.

She had to be content to watch as he faced
the people for the first time as their king.

As one, every head in the room bowed and
then rose again. Philip looked over the crowd and managed a small
smile before his eyes found hers. He gave her a low bow and then
made his way back down the aisle.

Adare would have
loved the coronation ball under different circumstances. It was all
flowers and lights and sparkling things. Maren suspected it was
mostly Kira’s doing, but she hadn’t bothered to ask.

Philip stood across the room, surrounded by
too many people to count. She hadn’t had a single chance to talk
with him so she had to be content just to watch. It had been like
this since the ball began over an hour ago. The Council, the nobles
all trying to win favors, the ladies all trying to win something
else. At first, Philip had endured with grace. It was part of the
job and he knew it. Now, he was getting impatient. She would have
known even if she couldn’t sense his feelings. His smile was
forced. His posture stiff.

He looked up, as if reading her thoughts,
and briefly met her eyes, smiling an apology. “He looks as if he
could use a good excuse to make them all leave him alone,” Kira
said, threading her arm through Maren’s.

“He does, doesn’t he?” Maren laughed. “I
don’t know that he’ll get one tonight.”

“I don’t know.” Kira winked. “I told the
musicians to get ready to begin.”

Like Philip would get the chance to dance
tonight. “Thank you,” she said to Kira. “I know you did all this.
It’s beautiful.”

She shrugged. “It’s no less than he
deserves. Or you deserve.”

A slight smile touched the corners of
Maren’s mouth. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Right,” Kira smiled and placed a hand on
Maren's arm. “I am truly happy for both of you. I hope you know
that.”

“I do.” Maren hugged her. “And I’m grateful
for your friendship.”

The musicians began to take their places as
couples made their way onto the floor. She saw an empty chair
against the wall and headed towards it.

“Lady Maren?”

Her heart skipped a beat and her breath
caught. Then she turned.

Philip gave her a deep bow and held out his
hand. “May I have this dance?”

The entire room watched and she didn’t care.
She just wanted to be near him, to feel his arms around her.

She took a step forward and reached for his
outstretched hand. “I would be honored.”

He led her onto the floor and waited as the
musicians finished their tuning, but he didn’t let go of her
hand.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you
sooner.”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter. I refuse to let this take
me away from you. I won’t.”

“I know exactly how you feel,” she said,
knowing it was time to tell him. “I feel exactly what you
feel.”

His brows wrinkled in confusion. “What do
you mean?”

“Something happened that day you made me
whole. I know when you’re impatient, or restless, or happy, or sad,
or frustrated. I feel your emotions. Not as strongly as my own, but
I feel them.”

His eyes went wide. “I thought it was just
me, that I was imagining it. But tonight, just as I was wishing
everyone would disappear, I felt you smile. As if you understood
completely.”

It went both directions, this new closeness
they felt. Somehow, that made it even better.

The music began, and the beautiful notes of
a haunting melody hung in the air. Philip took her into his arms,
and everything else faded into the background, unimportant, because
she was happy.

As the music came to a close, she expected
Philip to move on to another partner. Instead, he led her to the
front of the room. Then he turned to the crowd and signaled for
silence.

“I never asked to be your king. I never
wanted or sought it. But circumstances brought me here and things
took place that I couldn’t change.” He paused. “Perhaps one day
I’ll be able to tell you in detail what happened just over two
weeks ago. Perhaps one day I’ll be able to share what happened the
months before that to bring us to such a conclusion.” He took a
deep breath. “But there is one thing I would like you to know. One
thing you need to know.” She could feel him fighting to control his
emotions. “Were it not for one person, the kingdom would have
fallen and Kern would still be alive. That person is Lady
Maren.”

All eyes fixed on her, and she wanted
nothing more than to step back into the crowd and disappear.
Instead, she took Philip’s outstretched hand and joined him at his
side.

“Even if we hadn’t been friends since we
were children, even if I hadn’t loved her almost my entire life, I
would tell you she’s the bravest woman I know. She’s known for a
long time who Teige really was. She tried to tell me. When that
didn’t work, she did everything in her power to stop him. I don’t
deserve her love or her trust, and yet somehow she’s given me
both.” He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. Then he
slid a delicate ring onto her finger. “Today, I am more humbled
than I can express to announce that Lady Maren has agreed to be my
wife, and your queen.”

Philip stepped closer and put his arms
around her. Applause thundered through the room as he leaned in to
kiss her. When he finally pulled away, he was laughing. It was the
first true smile she’d seen on his face that night.

She stayed by his side as long as she could,
but eventually they were pulled apart, each receiving
congratulations from their various acquaintances. She was able to
escape much sooner than him, and she stood back and watched,
soaking in his feelings and trying to put them into words.

It wasn’t happiness, although he was happy.
It wasn’t even joy. It went deeper than that, more lasting.

Contentment.

That was the best way to describe it. But it
wasn’t that alone. There was something more, some other emotion
woven right alongside. Just as satisfying as the first, but
stronger. Something that could survive on its own, that would
endure beyond contentment, or happiness, or joy, but that made each
of those emotions more meaningful.

She caught his eye from across the room, and
he smiled in a way that reached into her soul and made her breath
catch. For she knew what she’d been missing, the emotion that held
everything else in place.

It was love.

Want to Read More?

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Siege,
the prequel novella to
Borrowed Magic?
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About the Author

Shari has
always loved to read. “Bookworm” may even be
an understatement. But when she discovered Georgette Heyer in high
school, her love of reading exploded. Ms. Heyer’s books were not
only entertaining, witty, and smart, but they saved Shari from the
awkward, unromantic teenage years. To this day, Shari’s favorite
books all have romance in them.

Although Shari spent a good deal of her time
at Brigham Young University on the ballroom dance team, she did
manage to get a BA in History and English before going on to get a
Juris Doctorate. After graduation, she decided her first priority
was to be a mom -- a career she’s stuck with and loved.

In between cleaning, laundry, and homework,
Shari writes. Just like with reading, she wants to get lost in a
world, whether imaginary or historical.

She lives just outside of Salt Lake City,
Utah with her husband and four children.

Other
Books by Shari Lambert

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