At the center stands Valric, his full attention focused on me. Then he lifts his hand, and a glimmer of sapphire blue flutters into view. A beautiful butterfly, its wings shimmering like stardust, lands on his outstretched palm. Valric’s expression is calm, almost reverent, as he holds the butterfly up to his face.
“I’ve never seen this species before,” he marvels.
With a blink, I stand up to round the small table, and approach him. More butterflies emerge from the roses, each a vibrant blue like the first.
“When you’re calm and at peace, so is your magic.”
I nod absently as I crouch down, running my fingers over the rose petals. I draw a deep breath, hands trembling just slightly.
The doors to the room creak open, and I look over to see Alivar stroll in, his usual effortless grace on full display. His footstepsfalter slightly as his eyes sweep over the room, taking in the rose bushes now invading the area.
“Doing some remodeling?” He quirks an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
I stand, brushing my hands down the front of my dress. “Something like that,” I reply lightly. “What are you doing here?”
Before Alivar can respond, Valric answers for him. “I thought the Seelie Prince could be useful in getting you to train magically.”
I blink, my grin faltering. “But I thought you said it’s all instinctive. I just need to channel it better, right?”
“Under pressure,” Valric clarifies, folding his arms. “Instinct is powerful, but it’s raw. I want someone who can push your buttons, someone who can bring out the emotions driving your magic.”
I snort, crossing my arms over my chest. “Bring Fenris in here, then. He’s got a stick up his ass about something, and would love a chance to wipe the floor with me.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Valric flinch, just the slightest twitch of his shoulders.
I tilt my head, narrowing my eyes. “What was that?”
“What was what?” he replies, avoiding my stare.
“That look,” I press, stepping toward him. “You know why Fenris is so pissed at me, don’t you?”
Valric sighs heavily, running a hand over his head, clearly debating how much he wants to share. “He’s angry about a lot of things, Princess.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Alivar watches the exchange with obvious interest, leaning casually against the wall. “Whatever it is,” he says, his smirkreturning, “I’m sure it’ll come out eventually. Fenris isn’t exactly subtle with his emotions.”
I give Alivar a dry look. “Helpful as always, Your Highness.”
“You’re welcome,” he replies, utterly unbothered.
Valric clears his throat, drawing my attention back to him. “Right now, your focus should be on your training.” His voice is firm, though there’s still a hint of discomfort there.
“Fine,” I relent, my shoulders drooping. “Where do we start?”
Valric rises from his chair, his gaze lingering on me. “I think that will do for today.” His tone leaves little room for argument, and I frown, my eyes flicking to the window. The sun has disappeared beneath the horizon, its golden glow fading into deep purples and blacks of night.
“Have you even eaten?” Alivar inquires, his voice tinged with concern. “I heard you were at the arena at dawn.”
My attention snaps to him, my frustration bubbling to the surface. “I don’t have time, Maxon–”
Valric’s low growl cuts through the air, silencing me. Instinctively, I recoil as I swivel to face him.
“What?” I demand, more defensively than intended.
“Do you think Maxon would want you working yourself to death? Starving yourself like this?”
Anger flares, hot and bitter. “I can’t eat,” I retort sharply. “I can’t sleep. I need to keep busy.” My voice cracks, betraying the storm raging within me. I glance between them—Valric’s unyieldingstare, Alivar’s quiet concern. Their judgment feels suffocating, even if it comes from a place of care.
