He blinked. Somehow, she managed to dodge every expectation. Out of curiosity more than anything, Baron accepted the journal, scanning the open pages.
They were a mess.
The princess had a loopy penmanship style, one that did not remain terribly consistent across the page, the loops shrinking on some notes and expanding on others. Hasty black boxes isolated some sections while curving arrows highlighted others. Curiously, her neatest marks were those crossing out words or lines—just a single, straight line through. Thin. As if she simultaneously wanted the information removed but also needed to clearly see what the mistake had been.
Baron tried to piece the scattered fragments.
Magic inherited. Strict bloodline, either Fluid or Stone. Skips generations.
Must choose to be Caster? Dugal writes, “The Caster is activated of effort.” Dugal is confusing.
Ability can appear as early as twelve years old.
Physical pain causes magic response, therefore the Casting test. Casting also causes physical pain? Dugal writes, “Like the man lifting a weight too great collapses, so, too, the Cast too great collapses Caster.” Really need to find a better source than Dugal.
Casting is permanent once made. No exceptions??
She had sections on the page for both Fluid and Stone Casters specifically, with arrows drawn to group information to its respective category.
Baron’s curiosity naturally led him to his own Casting type first, where she’d noted, incorrectly, that Fluid Casters needed direct contact with liquid, that they could change physical attributes—flavor, composition—and also change the effect of a liquid for someone drinking it. Along the margin, she’d writtentea cures tired, her lines particularly loopy across each word.
Most interestingly, she’d crossed out a single line related to Fluid Casters:
Safe if you don’t drink.
And beneath it, she’d written a very small word in rigid letters without loops.
Blood.
“Well?” the princess asked.
Baron looked up, realizing she’d stepped right next to him, looking down over his arm at her own journal. Her cheeks burned slightly pink.
“These are quite ... extensive.” Baron hesitated, then handed the journal back to her. “If I may, Highness, why the interest?”
Surely it concerned the matter in Northglen. Princess Aria was the royal heir, after all. No doubt she intended to gain an edge over Widow Morton, to find some weakness in Casters that could be exploited against Morton’s growing faction.
The princess opened her mouth, then clamped it shut again. She grimaced, as if finding the topic painful. Up close, Baron could see the same evidences of strain he’d seen the night of the ball—the redness in her eyes, the way her clothing hung slightly loose, as if she’d lost weight since it had been tailored. Something clearly troubled her deeply. She even swayed on her feet.
With a glance and a moment of decision, Baron guided heronto his father’s stone bench. He sat gingerly beside her, breathing through the memories.
Aria breathed deeply as well, as if sorting her own internal pain. Her eyes slipped closed.
“It’s warm here,” she whispered. Opening her eyes, she sighed. “I’m not sure I could explain anything to satisfaction. I only thought ... The night of Eliza’s ball, you seemed to want to help me, and if I may be honest for a moment, I desperately need help.”
Her brown eyes carried the red touch of exhaustion but also that lighter golden ring, as if danger and hope clashed in the same arena.
Baron nodded slowly. “This has to do with Northglen, doesn’t it?”
“It does.”
“Then a question of my own. This all began with the execution of Charles Morton, but I’ve heard multiple accounts of what happened. If you could correct my knowledge of that event, I may, in turn, correct the errors in your notes.”
The princess studied him for a moment, then spoke.
“My mother was hosting a series of musical events, so we had several families of court staying at the castle. One evening, Father was in private council with his advisers when he discovered Charles Morton concealed in the room. Spying. Because the discussion had been of sensitive matters of State, Father enforced the law against espionage himself, rather than awaiting a trial. If he’d waited, the information Morton had overheard could have been spread any time between arrest and sentencing.”
It matched at least one version of events Baron had been given. There were members of court who speculated the late Earl Morton had been tangled in treason, and that after his death, hisson was the final loose end to be tied. Others thought the king must be hiding something.
