Finding Her Magical King novel · Chapter 7 of 24

Chapter 7: The Night Before

I wiped the mirror with my sleeve until the name was gone.

It took four tries, because the frost kept coming back.

At midnight I gave up and went out onto the guest-wing balcony in my cardigan, with Soot stalking along the rail ahead of me.

The night was clear and the whole capital lay below, lit up for the coronation.

Anselm was already there.

He was sitting on the stone floor with his back against the wall and his coat folded beside him, looking at the lights.

"I couldn't sleep," he said, before I could ask.

"I wasn't going to say anything."

"You were going to say something with your face."

"My face doesn't have opinions."

"Your face has several." He looked up at me. "I'm sorry about the hall. I shouldn't have..."

"I started it."

"You did." His mouth twitched. "I'd like that on the record."

I sat down against the wall, with a body's width of cold stone between us.

Soot stopped on the rail and studied the king for a long moment.

Then he jumped down, walked across Anselm's legs, turned around three times and settled on his lap.

"He bites," Anselm said, not moving.

"He's making an exception."

"I'm not sure I'm up to the honour."

"Sit very still," I said. "It lasts about an hour."

We watched the lights.

After a while he said, "Today's question."

"You haven't asked yet."

"I'm asking now. What did your mother sing to you?"

It was such a small thing to ask that it went through me before I could shut it out.

I had nobody to tell.

Maeve had never asked.

"A knot song," I said. "She sang it while she tied thread. It was for sleeping."

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