CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
My lungs burned with the thick summer air. A dragonfly buzzed near my ear.
My outstretched fingers flexed. A strand of hair tickled my forehead, but I didn’t dare brush it away.
When the water rose, I’d make him regret ever teaching me this spell. When it rose, I’d show him his future: one no better than the servant he taught.
Let him regret ever showing me this spell.
A thin gold thread glimmered at the edges of my mind’s eye.
In the middle of the pond, water began to gather. Small waves and lily pads brushed the stones that composed the pond’s edge. A few frogs cried out in alarm as a smile formed on my lips.
“That’s satisfactory, Lyranore.”
“Satisfactory?” I glared at him. “That’s a good foot in the air!”
He shrugged. “Two-thirds of a foot, perhaps.”
“Two-thirds?”
He adjusted his spectacles. “Were you thinking about your duty?”
Confusion cooled my anger. “My duty?”
“A few weeks ago, you mended my shirt. You told me the driver of your magic in the moment had been duty. I was curious if you felt a consistent motivator in this exercise.”
My mouth ran dry.
“It’s alright if it’s something separate. I would, however, like to know. It shall help us better develop your abilities.”
“I’m a textile mage.” My voice was quiet.
“So you’ve said.” He peered at me, waiting. When I didn’t reply, he cleared his throat. “Duty?”
I nodded, knowing the lie would likely hurt me in the end.
But how did I tell the infuriating Prince Thomas that he was becoming the motivation of my magic?
It wasn’t even to please him, although I relished the small compliments he paid me after successful feats.
No—despite the amiableness that occasionally spawned between us, I wanted nothing more than to usurp him and his smug talents.
I was just a textile mage. I was aware of that.
But I was beginning to want to be more.
After my first triumph with the water pillar spell, our chatter had turned theoretical, the sinking waters taunting me as Thom criticized my form and lectured on variations of water magic.
By the time I’d finished the lesson, I’d been able to create controlled waves in the water, rippling and splashing our feet at the shore.
And despite the room for improvement, I was proud. Incredibly proud.
The next morning, I’d never been so excited to return home to Mama and Kelara, to visit Asha, to share a little of the new world I was discovering alongside Thomas.
I only wished Papa would be able to hear of my growth, too.
I pulled my bindle closer and broke into a run down the lane. I arrived home breathless, buzzing with excitement as the door opened with a creak. I’d need to oil it again soon.
“Lyranore!” Asha cried, leaping into my arms. I pulled her in close, her dark curls tickling my cheeks.
“Hello, you,” Mama said, looking me up and down.
I sent her a wink. “Hi.”
“What’s put such a smile on your face?”
I rolled my eyes, but my lips stayed curved, as if they were light as air. “Nothing.”
A knock at the door made Asha release me. Dread and nausea filled my next breath, the smallest hint of a premonition warning me. But I didn’t need the strange magic to remind me what I’d cruelly, stupidly forgotten.
I opened the door.
David offered a wan smile. “I was supposed to walk you home?”
“I’m so sorry, David.” I wrinkled my brow. “I forgot!”
“I tried to catch up to you, but you were sprinting.”
“I can’t apologize enough. It’s been a hectic week at the palace.”
He cocked his head, more confused. “Has it?”
My eyes widened. “I…”
Mama cleared her throat, and I stepped back, grateful for the interruption.
I hadn’t thought to tell David about my lessons, but to be honest, I hadn’t been thinking of him at all. I reached down to grab my engagement ribbon, but it was tucked beneath my sleeve, out of reach.
David hugged Mama and sat beside Kelara. Asha immediately jumped into a conversation with him about his latest sighting of Princess Lilah, the youngest royal, and I chuckled to myself.
“David’s here?” Mama whispered.
“I forgot to mention it.”
“That’s unlike you.”
“I’ve had an eventful few days,” I said. I tugged at the collar of my gown.
She narrowed her eyes.
“I’ll tell you later,” I mumbled.
She nodded, then clasped her hands together. “It’s good to see you, David,” she said, interrupting Asha’s rant on the perfect tiara. “I’ll prepare another place at the table.”
“Need any help?”
She waved a dismissive hand. “You’re too sweet, but no guest of mine is setting the table for us.”
He chuckled. Mama scurried into the kitchen.
“So how’s guard work?” Kelara asked, adjusting a ruffle in Asha’s dress.
“It’s good,” David answered. “Could be better. The nobles we watch can be a bit much sometimes.”
I frowned.
“But,” he continued, “it pays well enough to support a family. I can’t complain.”
Kelara glanced at me, curious excitement dancing her eyes.
“What’s the oddest thing you’ve overheard during your work?” she asked.
He rubbed his jaw, leaning back. “I suppose the argument between the eldest two princes last week was shocking. Prince Theodore wanted to use taxpayer money—our money—to send guards to each home in the Capitol, looking for his chambermaid.”
Kelara wrinkled her nose. “Why?”
“Because he fancies himself in love.” He broke into laughter and nudged me. “Lyra knew the girl, too. Cindy, right?”
“Ella,” I corrected, my face a stony mask.
“Yes,” he said mid-chuckle. “What a waste of the kingdom’s taxes.”
“And what did Prince Thomas say?” Kelara inquired.
“Oh, that it was ridiculous. As he should,” he added. “He told Prince Theodore that tax money was for the public good, not for his ego.”
I bristled. “The pursuit of love is not a pursuit of ego.”
The humor faded from his eyes. “Theodore wants what all men want—a wife, children, a simple future. He could just as easily find someone else. I’ve heard countless noble women gush about him.”
“But what if he wants Ella?”
He scoffed, but something hard had crept beneath his expression. “Then he can go door to door by himself. No need to spend my hard-earned cash when so many are in poverty.”
I bit my cheek. “I suppose.”
Kelara glanced between the two of us, her brow creased. Just then, Mama called from the other room, announcing supper was ready.
We shuffled in, gathering around the table and diving into pan-fried herring. The air smelled of grease and sea salt.
“Grandpapa’s favorite!” Asha exclaimed, sending the echoes of smiles to our lips.
“Did you toss all of Papa’s books yet, Mama?” I asked between bites. Oil coated my lips, sea salt prickling my tongue.
“No, dear, they’re still in a pile on your bed since you haven’t been home.”
“I might sort through a few more,” I said.
“Why?” David’s eyes found mine.
I shrugged. “They might come in handy.”
“Have you been practicing?” Kelara asked, wiping a piece of onion from Asha’s cheek.
“Actually, yes.”
The silence weighed heavy as everyone’s stares fell upon me. I spotted my water glass, an idea sparking within me.
I closed my eyes.
Let me make them proud. My lips curved upward.
As if it heard me, the water in my cup began to bubble, spilling over the sides onto the wooden table beneath. Asha cried out in alarm. When it settled, I looked up to see Mama’s open mouth and Kelara’s crinkled eyes. David’s expression tightened.
“What do you think?” I asked, my nerves on edge.
“I think it’s wonderful!” Mama cried, clapping.
I bowed my head. “Why, thank you.”
“What else can you do?” Asha asked.
I paused. “That’s all for now. But I’m still learning.”
David’s index finger tapped against the wooden surface of the table. I placed my hand on his to calm it. He wrapped his fingers around mine, his thumb rubbing my knuckle.
“That reminds me,” he said. “We have something else wonderful to share.”
Kelara leaned forward.
“We’re engaged.”
Mama’s shriek made the whole house jump. Asha began dancing in her seat.
“I’m happy for you both,” Kelara said.
“Thanks.” I lowered my gaze.
“A wedding! I cannot wait! When is it?” Mama asked.
David and I shared a glance.
“Snowfest,” he said. “A winter wedding.”
Mama clasped her hands. “Oh, how lovely. We’ll have to start planning immediately.”
I furrowed my brow. So soon? I hadn’t even thought about dates yet, let alone discussed them with David.
He nodded. “I was thinking similarly.”
“Why?” I asked, my breaths coming quicker. “We’ve got months.”
Mama laughed. “Oh, to be young and ignorant of the amount of effort a wedding takes.”
“Mama—”
“I was hoping for something spectacular as well, Mrs. Smyth,” David said.
“We could host an engagement party next month as well!”
“I beg your pardon,” I interrupted. “But I don’t want us to run away with ourselves—”
“Should we book a band, you think?” David asked. “For a dance afterward? Just because we’re commoners doesn’t mean we can’t have a good time!”
“Yes, I’ll certainly inquire. I can run down to your mother’s place tomorrow afternoon and discuss options…”
I leaned back amidst the chatter, my hand rising to cup my cheek. The table was old, stained with time, the floors beneath in desperate need of remodelling. I stared at the herring, a rare luxury at home, and breathed through the frustration that threatened to make me snap at my own family.
What would Papa say to all this?
It was hard not to feel his ghost sitting with us at this table. To be reminded that on the most important day of my life, he would be in the cold, snowy ground.
Kelara’s eyes caught my own. My stomach sank at the pity lurking in her expression.
I had to look away. When Asha danced over to plant a kiss on my cheek, I plastered a smile on my face and let her rant about her role in my wedding.
But even as I injected enthusiasm into my voice, as I nodded to Asha’s rambling, every time my gaze flickered to Kelara’s, she held that same look of sorrow.
What did she know that I didn’t?
Was I not capable of making my own adult decisions?
My stomach churned, though with what, I didn’t know.
All I knew was that I couldn’t stand it.