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Authors: Elana Johnson
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If he could sense my pulse, though, he would find it galloping. “Nothing of consequence.”
Cris nodded, but a new edge had entered his eyes. One that spoke of mischief, of little boys who had buckets of ribbiting frogs in their mother’s kitchen sinks. “I know a little magic.”
A smile sprang to my lips, surprising me. Ten years seemed to melt off his face when he spoke of magic. “Oh? Royal tutors, I suppose.” Nyth kept its magicians closely monitored, and surely the High King would only allow the best to teach his son.
He drained the rest of his coffee as the youth left his face. “Yes, they tried. But most of what I was able to learn, I gained from trial and error.”
I waited for him to continue, to tell me how powerful he was, but he didn’t. He studied me, as if I might snap my fingers and send a funnel cloud into the sky. I’d accomplished elemental magic in Iskadar, but I didn’t want him to know that.
I suspected he knew already—after all, I’d fought his guards when they’d come to collect me—but I wouldn’t confirm it. If he was in Umon to find and control magicians the way his father did in Nyth, he was just as dangerous as the High King’s hunting parties.
Yet the silks I wore testified that as the Prince’s wife, I would never want for anything. I didn’t know if I could truly marry him simply for his money. It felt much the same as him marrying me for my magic. Neither option felt genuine, or remotely right.
I glanced at him, but found him admiring the river in the distance. I couldn’t make the pieces of Cris fit together. Here from Nyth, a country that had been expanding its empire through magical means, yet the Prince admired the landscape of Umon. The High King of Nyth had a reputation as dark as night, polluting magic and using it against his own subjects, but the Prince discussed magic as if it was normal breakfast conversation.
“Why are—?”
Bo interrupted my question with his harsh voice. “Your Majesty, your next appointment is here.”
Eight
“Sit here.” Bo pointed to a straight-backed chair and left. I’d been rushed out of the sunroom, down a hallway and into this closet of a room. It held a bare desk with a cushioned chair on one side and the hard one Bo had indicated on the other. Drapes held the sunlight hostage, casting the room in shadows and fear.
I barely had space to turn around, let alone smooth my skirts to sit in the chair.
“Sit, sit,” Bo said again as he re-entered the room. Another man followed him, and I wanted to shrink into the wall to avoid the sight of him. He wore a uniform that spoke captain instead of soldier, and his dark eyes broadcasted so much coldness I actually shivered. He was the second man from my rebound.
“You have made the initial cut,” he said. I supposed he could have been congratulating me, but it sounded more like an execution order. “His Majesty has appointments with several girls today, so after we take care of a few of the finer details, you’ll be free for the day.”
Free for the day sounded fantastic. I sat up straighter and pasted on a smile to show that I’d do anything to cooperate.
“My name is Gibson, and I make sure we know everything about the girls.” He sounded like he’d been through this process several times before, and my suspicions about the Prince and his bride-finding excursions reared. Gibson dropped a thick sheaf of parchment on the desk in front of me. “I’ll need you to fill this out.”
I flinched as he flicked a quill in my general direction. He waved his hand and a pillowed recliner sprang into existence. The sizzle of his magic set the silence in the room on fire.
I felt a ribbon of magic tying him and Bo together. Bonds?
Gibson settled into his recliner, leaning away from Bo in a subtle yet distinct manner. I glanced at Bo, catching a scathing glint in his eye as he glared at Gibson. If they were bonds, they were definitely not friends.
Dangerous drifted through
Cris nodded, but a new edge had entered his eyes. One that spoke of mischief, of little boys who had buckets of ribbiting frogs in their mother’s kitchen sinks. “I know a little magic.”
A smile sprang to my lips, surprising me. Ten years seemed to melt off his face when he spoke of magic. “Oh? Royal tutors, I suppose.” Nyth kept its magicians closely monitored, and surely the High King would only allow the best to teach his son.
He drained the rest of his coffee as the youth left his face. “Yes, they tried. But most of what I was able to learn, I gained from trial and error.”
I waited for him to continue, to tell me how powerful he was, but he didn’t. He studied me, as if I might snap my fingers and send a funnel cloud into the sky. I’d accomplished elemental magic in Iskadar, but I didn’t want him to know that.
I suspected he knew already—after all, I’d fought his guards when they’d come to collect me—but I wouldn’t confirm it. If he was in Umon to find and control magicians the way his father did in Nyth, he was just as dangerous as the High King’s hunting parties.
Yet the silks I wore testified that as the Prince’s wife, I would never want for anything. I didn’t know if I could truly marry him simply for his money. It felt much the same as him marrying me for my magic. Neither option felt genuine, or remotely right.
I glanced at him, but found him admiring the river in the distance. I couldn’t make the pieces of Cris fit together. Here from Nyth, a country that had been expanding its empire through magical means, yet the Prince admired the landscape of Umon. The High King of Nyth had a reputation as dark as night, polluting magic and using it against his own subjects, but the Prince discussed magic as if it was normal breakfast conversation.
“Why are—?”
Bo interrupted my question with his harsh voice. “Your Majesty, your next appointment is here.”
Eight
“Sit here.” Bo pointed to a straight-backed chair and left. I’d been rushed out of the sunroom, down a hallway and into this closet of a room. It held a bare desk with a cushioned chair on one side and the hard one Bo had indicated on the other. Drapes held the sunlight hostage, casting the room in shadows and fear.
I barely had space to turn around, let alone smooth my skirts to sit in the chair.
“Sit, sit,” Bo said again as he re-entered the room. Another man followed him, and I wanted to shrink into the wall to avoid the sight of him. He wore a uniform that spoke captain instead of soldier, and his dark eyes broadcasted so much coldness I actually shivered. He was the second man from my rebound.
“You have made the initial cut,” he said. I supposed he could have been congratulating me, but it sounded more like an execution order. “His Majesty has appointments with several girls today, so after we take care of a few of the finer details, you’ll be free for the day.”
Free for the day sounded fantastic. I sat up straighter and pasted on a smile to show that I’d do anything to cooperate.
“My name is Gibson, and I make sure we know everything about the girls.” He sounded like he’d been through this process several times before, and my suspicions about the Prince and his bride-finding excursions reared. Gibson dropped a thick sheaf of parchment on the desk in front of me. “I’ll need you to fill this out.”
I flinched as he flicked a quill in my general direction. He waved his hand and a pillowed recliner sprang into existence. The sizzle of his magic set the silence in the room on fire.
I felt a ribbon of magic tying him and Bo together. Bonds?
Gibson settled into his recliner, leaning away from Bo in a subtle yet distinct manner. I glanced at Bo, catching a scathing glint in his eye as he glared at Gibson. If they were bonds, they were definitely not friends.
Dangerous drifted through
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