Chapter 2 #2
She was pulled from her reverie by the strange way the candles flickered—or didn’t. The frantic dance of flames slowed before her eyes, and Nes watched for a moment, wanting to be sure it wasn’t her imagination before she spoke.
Across from her, the king and queen casually debated who the goblet between them belonged to as they’d both been drinking from it. To her left, the twins bickered about something trivial, as siblings do.
The princess jabbed at her brother with a fork, and the prince reared back before pulling a blob of something from thin air, flinging it at his sister’s face.
She shrieked, her small hands flying up as she struggled to pull the sticky substance from her skin.
Wide-eyed, the prince’s gaze darted between his hand and his sister’s face.
The queen and Nesrina moved at the same moment, but Queen Hevva retook her seat, giving Nes a nod to go ahead and handle the situation.
Mind clear, her humming body calmed by the opportunity to teach, Nesrina moved between the two siblings to squat behind their chairs. First, she turned her attention to the girl. “Are you all right, Princess?”
“It’s so sticky!” She struggled with the goo clinging to her hair and hands.
“I think your brother and I can help you out.” Nes gave the girl a half-smile before turning her attention to the boy. “Prince Ataht, can you take a deep breath for me?”
He nodded, gripping the arms of his chair.
“In through your nose.” He followed her lead. “And out through your mouth.” They exhaled together. “Good. Now, can you still feel your magic? It might feel like little pinpricks on your palm.”
The chestnut-haired prince nodded, his eyes glued to his hand, searching for what she described.
“Wonderful. Now take another deep breath, and let it go. Release the sticky ooze you imagined. Picture it falling apart, unraveling.”
As the prince exhaled, the substance popped away, vanishing, residue and all.
“Ah, splendid!” The king clapped.
A blush heated Nesrina’s cheeks. She’d forgotten her audience, finding it was far easier to teach the twins than to consider how best to lift her glass when in the eyeline of a monarch. Offering the king a sheepish half-smile, she complimented the prince, “Excellent control.”
“I didn’t have any good control when I made that stuff.” He gestured toward his sister’s face, and she pursed her lips, nodding fervently.
Nes sighed empathetically before launching into a brief but thorough lesson about big feelings and how they can make it easy to lose control of one’s power. “Did you see the way the candles slowed before you made the sticky ooze?”
The prince and princess shook their heads.
“I promise to explain more about it later. For now, it’s important to practice staying calm even when you’re feeling frustrated. If you breathe the way I taught you, it’ll help you control the chaos.”
“Do you promise?” Small and timid, the prince’s question wormed into her heart.
“I do. If you accidentally create something you didn’t mean to make, take a deep breath, and remember that it’s not real.”
Princess Adella cocked her head to the side. “What do you mean, it’s not real? That splat was really sticky on me.”
“It might look and feel real, but our magic—it allows us to create a powerful illusion. Remember that. It’s an approximation. Find your calm in the chaos, breathe, and you’ll get through it.” Lesson complete, Nesrina stood and smoothed her dress.
When she looked up again, she saw Queen Hevva lean toward her husband and whisper in his ear.
He grunted in response. It was the sort of sound that indicated a “yes” rather than a “no.”
When the queen bestowed a gleaming smile upon her, Nes exhaled slowly. “Miss Kiappa, welcome, officially, to Kirce Palace.”
Her father would have been so proud, but it should’ve been him at dinner. Tamping down the heavy feeling that threatened to dampen her success, she forced her grin larger.
As she passed behind Adella’s chair on her way to her seat, the door flew open, and the man strode in—the rude, not-a-gentleman from the grand hall.
Lened, damn, damn, damn. Her favorite Old Tongue term was swiftly replaced by its modern Selwassan counterpart as composure fled the room.
Nes spotted a familiar head of flaxen hair behind the unwelcome guest, and Rihan shot her a quick grin before the door was pulled closed by an invisible servant, blasting Nes with a rush of air.
“You’re late,” the queen said dryly as the children shrieked, “Uncle Kas!”
Uncle? Oh, no. His eyes met hers, flashing with recognition, before he moved on to greet each of his family members in turn.
She took her seat, busying herself with her colorful array of vegetables as she consciously ignored the beat of anxiety picking up tempo in her chest. Who knew carrots come in purple?
“Apologies, Hevva, Ehmet. Please don’t shout at me. I got caught up with work,” he explained casually, all but ignoring Nesrina as he pulled out his own chair and joined them. His foot brushed hers as he moved his seat closer to the table. She shivered—out of fear, obviously.
Low and calm, his voice rumbled as he addressed his family, any vestige of his terse demeanor from the grand hall vanished.
Or maybe it was reserved for her? He was no longer wearing the deep blue jacket from earlier and instead donned a simple forest green tunic that highlighted the auburn tones in his disheveled hair.
That messy hair. She wanted to reach up and push it back from his forehead, maybe give his perfectly straight nose a flick in the process, for the way he had treated her earlier. The thought assaulted her before she could get a grasp on it. But she did and forced it to the back of her mind.
“Brother, no worries. I’m pleased you could join us.” King Hethtar made the introductions, “This is Miss Nesrina Kiappa, the twins’ new magic tutor. Miss Kiappa, the Duke of Stormhill, Akkas Kahoth, my brother-in-law.”
The duke pivoted toward her, knocked her thigh with one of his bony knees, and dipped his brow. His messy hair flopped into his eyes, and he peered at her through long lashes.
“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Kiappa.”
He sounded out her name, “kee-arhh-puh,” like he was chewing on the vowels. She squelched the pulsing low in her stomach as she processed the rest of his words. Pleased to make my acquaintance? So, that was how he was going to play things.
Head cocked and eyebrows raised, she blinked at him. “How lovely to be introduced, Your Grace.”
He lifted his face, and his hair sort of brushed itself away from his eyes. With a tilt of his head that mirrored hers, he stared at her with—
Is that mock innocence? From a grown man?
The queen coughed, and Nes was reminded of whose table she shared.
The duke’s eyes bore into hers with an intensity that made her feel like her skin was coated in the tiny text of an old book, and he was trying to read her. The candles flickered strangely, and she glanced to where the children sat calmly on her left, enjoying their supper. It wasn’t them.
“Kas, get your magic under control,” the queen chided.
As abruptly as it started, the breeze ceased, and the flames resumed their rapid dance.
“I’m certain we haven’t met,” he said bluntly, having picked up on her innuendo.
We most certainly have, you pompous arse.
She wanted to scream, but she was playing at professionalism, and the king and queen sat not five feet away.
“You must be correct, Your Grace.” She homed in on the windows behind the infuriating duke.
It was still pouring outside, a continuation of the rainstorm he’d forced her into earlier.
As she dragged her gaze back to rest upon her unwanted conversation partner, she caught a flash of something confusing in his eyes.
Mirth? Ooh, this man. Never mind the flutter in her chest, she narrowed her eyes at him and continued, “I had the most startling exchange in the grand hall earlier.”
“You did? What occurred?” Queen Hevva asked sweetly, sipping from her glass.
“I was directed to the service entrance by an exceptionally temperamental individual, despite having a summons to appear.”
The duke stared at her, his face an impassive wall of stone as rugged and angular as the palace walls themselves.
She could feel the beginnings of a blush creeping up her bosom, momentarily hidden beneath the high neckline of her dress.
His jaw tensed, and his eyes glittered.
Oh my. She had only just managed to secure the position as the twins’ magic tutor. Had she already gotten herself terminated before beginning her new role?
“Staff tend to enter via the service door,” the duke said flatly. “It’s understandable that someone could get confused.”
“Who would send her to the service entrance?” The king huffed, effectively drawing Nesrina’s attention away from the difficult duke as he spoke to no one in particular.
“She may be staff, technically, but Miss Kiappa is a Guest of the King. And furthermore, she”—he gestured with an open palm—“is the daughter of Hothan Tarisden, my tutor—my mentor.” The king spoke with reverence regarding his late teacher.
His eyes took on a faraway glaze, but as quickly as the look came on, it faded.
He huffed again, exhaling loudly through his nose. “Service entrance my arse!”
“The children, dear,” Queen Hevva tutted, swatting her husband softly on the forearm.
Adella and Ataht giggled into their goblets. “Arse,” one whispered to the other, sending them into peals of laughter.
The king ignored his kids and continued, “I am terribly sorry for your experience. If we can figure out which fool sent you around back, I’ll happily have words with him.”
Nes pressed her lips together to keep herself from laughing. The queen went for it, chuckling into her wine.
Nesrina desperately wanted to turn to see the look on the duke’s face but couldn’t risk losing her composure. Instead, she glanced down, eyes drawn to where the fingertips on his left hand drummed lightly on the table before they stilled.
With deceptive sanguinity, he reached forward to pinch the stem of his wine glass, fingernails going white before he relaxed his grasp. “It must have been a terrible fool, a true idiot,” the duke responded, his voice low as he moved to sip his wine.
He glanced at her as she turned her gaze on him, surprised by his quiet contrition. “To be sure. It must have been someone rather distracted,” Nes replied, offering him an out.
He chuckled, a heavy, low sound, and one corner of his small mouth quirked ever so slightly.
She still thought he was rude.