Crowned Prince

They hailed him a hero for saving Lady Onyx Aldarius.

For getting her away from the assassins.

For killing those that had followed them.

To protect her and her secret, he let them.

But Prince William knew the truth.

Onyx had saved him.

Prince William caught her before she fell to the floor.

His arms wrapped around her as he lifted her, and Onyx stared up into his too-blue eyes.

The magic buffeted around him, but something about him dampened the connection.

As if he absorbed it.

Or was unaffected by it.

The thoughts lost themselves as she closed her eyes, laid her head against his shoulder, and lost herself to the oblivion of exhaustion.

 

Onyx couldn’t control the magic.

Couldn’t stop it.

She curled around herself, pressing her hands to her temples as she fought to cut off the flow.

But she could do nothing.

Her knees buckled.

 

Onyx sent the magic after those that pursued them.

After those that wished Prince William harm.

The magic obeyed.

It tore through the black-clad assassins, their screams filling the halls.

But it didn’t stop there.

The Duke of Dorn. The Count of Eldyrn. Sir Pernden. The magic found them all.

Onyx called the magic to her, and it came.

Fast and bright.

Too fast. Too bright.

And none of it hers.

It tore through her, twisting and burning, and she let it.

So she could command it.

 

He would one day be her king. If she wanted them both to live long enough to see that day, she had to trust him.

Reaching out with her magic, she felt their pursuers, but she also felt the tendrils of magic that imbued all of the buildings gifted to them by the Seven Paragons.

So much magic.

Too magic.

But she had to save Prince William.