Jovine paced restlessly across the worn carpet of her bedroom floor.

Biting her nails in anxious contemplation, her mind ran through her conversation with Erin over and over again.

“Have you ever heard the story of a world touched by magic?”

Jovine frowned. “Like the legends and fables we used to read as children?”

“Not exactly,” Erin grimaced. “More like theories and history.”

“History?” Jovine repeated in surprise.

“You won’t remember this, but just a few days ago, Lady Margaret and I raised a concern to you about —” Erin hesitated, biting her lip in apprehension.

The stab of guilt pricked the Empress. In the past, she had lashed out prematurely, especially in the face of her ladies who expressed their reproach towards the Emperor who had cast her aside. Even then, she was foolishly tied to Richard, desperate to cling onto the idea of him rather than the reality. And now, in Erin’s cautious nature around her, she saw the extent of how sightless she had truly become.

“Speak freely, Erin. I am listening now.”

Erin nodded, taking a breath before starting again. “Many people of the Empire are unhappy with the Emperor’s rule, Jovine. They claim he is a power-hungry tyrant tarnishing the legacy of the late Emperor and Empress and that he doesn’t deserve the crown. And, in light of all that, there are rumors of a magical lineage that bears the rightful claim to the throne.”

Jovine widened her eyes. “What?”

Erin continued. “As I did, most brush it off as baseless folly, but after what’s happened to you…I can’t help but feel there’s weight in the whispers out there.”

From the way she avoided her eyes and the slight fidgeting movements of her fingers, Jovine knew there was more. “Erin, what are you holding back from me?”

“W-well, I don’t know if it is true…I mean no reason to bring it up if it’s just foolish gossip,” she mumbled nervously.

“Erin,” Jovine urged.

With an audible gulp, she finally met Jovine’s eyes. “I think there’s a rebellion forming. I’ve had strangers come up to me asking if I’ve ever dreamed of a world ruled by magic.”

Jovine stopped before the window, resurfacing from the memory of her conversation.

Long hours after Erin left, her mind wouldn’t stop running.

A world touched by magic. Dreaming of one ruled by it.

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A rebellion. A magical lineage.

She couldn’t even begin to comprehend the extent of what she had heard. Magic only existed in books and daydreams, and never has there been a question that it could be real. So, why now?

Something mystical was occurring within the Empire, and she needed to know more.

Grabbing her robe and a lighted candle, Jovine rushed out of her chambers, heading straight to the Palace Libraries. Erin mentioned something about theories and history, and there was something she had said that was particularly lingering in the back of her mind.

Walking briskly past the darkened hallways and down the grand, marble staircase, Jovine advanced towards the large, oak door. She was bound to find something useful in the Imperial archives.

The scent of old paper, ink, and embers enveloped her as she stepped into the large expanse, the sight of ceiling-high ledges stacked with countless books greeting her. The warmth of the kindling fire and the red and gold furniture intertwining the endless shelves felt familiar, and it helped her breathe a little easier.

With years of Imperial Education and the long nights she had spent perfecting her role as the Crown Princess, Jovine seamlessly maneuvered her way through the rows. Specifically looking for the historical account of the Empire, Jovine stopped by a large, velvet-lined tome resting near the back.

Found it.

As she touched the soft padding of the spine to heave it out, the sound of ice clinking against a glass tumbler froze her.

“Well, this is certainly a surprise.”

The sound of his slurred words tensed her body until it pained her. This was the last person she wanted to see right now.

“You always did like to read in the dead of night,” Richard murmured.

Jovine slowly turned, facing her husband who sat on a plush, burgundy settee with a glass of spirits twirling around in his hand. His face looked flushed and dark as the burning hearth flickered lights of reflection across his complexion.

Palpable hatred flared within her as she stared at her intoxicated husband.

“Hm,” Richard mused. “You’ve never looked at me that way before. It almost looks as if you hate me.”

“And, if I do?” Jovine asked coolly.

He tilted his head, studying her. “I’d tell you it’s been a long time coming.”

She frowned. It wasn’t the answer she was expecting.

“But, I have to say I never expected it to feel like this,” he mumbled as an afterthought.

Clenching her jaw, she looked away. If she wasn’t so consumed with abhorrence for him, she could have laughed at how predictable he was.

Her manipulative, scheming husband was well-versed in playing her heartstrings like a meager puppet, and it would have stirred her before, but not anymore. Besides, if fate — and liquor — were on her side, he wouldn’t even remember this pathetic encounter in the morning.

“This. Your little outburst earlier tonight. Is it all some new way to get my attention?” he rambled on.

“Think as you wish, Your Majesty,” she dismissed, turning back to the book she had come here for. Taking it off the shelf and blowing the dust settled on the black covering, she flipped it open, browsing through the pages and ignoring the spike of awareness prickling down her spine from her husband’s gaze.

“If it is, it’s working,” he admitted.

Closing her eyes, Jovine slammed the book shut. Rage bubbled in her veins, eager to burst out and strike her pompous, lying, cheating husband. If she stayed any longer, she would end up doing something she’d regret. Now was not the time.

Without even sparing a glance, Jovine moved to walk away.

“It’s your husband’s birthday,” Richard cried out, his voice raised. “Do you have nothing else to say to me, Jovie?”

She flinched at the long-forgotten nickname he had called her long before, when life felt like a promise and her love overflowed in abundance. Turning her head, Jovine blankly looked at him, slightly pleased by the haughty ire displayed across his face.

“May it be your happiest birthday, Your Majesty.”

As his eyes flared in understanding, Jovine left him behind.