“No!” Vi reached out her hand as the papers—all her work—caught the fire. She’d never seen parchment go up in smoke so fast.
Control it,Vi willed mentally. She tried to envision her magic extending out from her, engulfing the flames, gaining command over them. But they wriggled and writhed, slippery and shifting; she couldn’t get a grab on it and before she knew it, her whole precious study would be gone. Her only connection with the home she was supposed to have would be ash. She would be—
The flames blinked out of existence without warning.
Vi stared, wide-eyed, at the blackened edge of her desk. In the moment, the fire had burned for what seemed like forever. Like a whole inferno had surrounded her. In reality, it had been a scorch and mere seconds.
But had she really… Vi brought her hand to her face, staring at her palm in wonder.
“Don’t get too excited.”
Vi’s back went rigid and she turned slowly to the source of the voice. Jax leaned in the door frame, arms crossed over his chest. His long black hair, the same color and nearly the same length as Vi’s, was tied in a messy knot at the top of his head. Half of it was spilling down his shoulders.
“It was you, wasn’t it?”
“You’d know if it was you,” he replied, painfully simple. Sure, she’d know if she suddenly had control over her magic. Just like she’d know if she was fully Awoken to it and not just peering through the crack in the wall between her and her power. “I see you found your presents.”
The change in topic was welcome. She’d postpone thinking about magic for as long as possible.
“Thank you for dropping them off. It was a nice surprise.” She knew the presents had been sent ahead months ago. But Jax always kept them hidden, waiting for her birthday. She knew he did it to try to cheer her up on the day and Vi never had the heart to tell him it made no difference in her overall mood.
“You get anything good? Or just more boring books and maps?”
“Books and maps arenotboring.” Vi knew he was trying to get a rise from her and she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. “Maybe if you’d tried reading one once in a while, you wouldn’t be such an uncultured vagrant.”
“That’sLordUncultured Vagrant, thank you very much.” Vi gave a snort of laughter at the remark. “What’s that?” He motioned to the watch in her hand.
Vi stared at it, forgetting she’d been holding it at all. The metal was warm under her skin, almost too warm. She’d melt the delicate gears inside if she wasn’t careful. Luckily it’d been broken before her spark had decided to dance around it.
“The Minister of Sorcery—”
“You can just say Fritz.” Jax chuckled.
“Fritz, right… Well he sent this for me.” Vi fastened the watch around her neck.
“It suits you,” her uncle appraised. His eyes lingered, as though he too found it oddly familiar. It seemed his mind went in a similar direction as hers initially. “Did your father make it?”
“He didn’t say.” Vi shrugged. “Just said it was my mother’s.” And that alone was reason enough for Vi to keep it close to her heart.
“You’ll have time to go through the rest of the gifts later.” Jax looked to one of the windows of her study. The dark morning was finally giving way to the first hazy colors of dawn. “We should get down to the pits.”
“Do I have to?” Vi dared to ask, knowing better. “It’s my birthday.” She may hate the day, but she’d gladly use it as an excuse.
“Yes.”
“You are truly heartless.” Her words had no bite and Jax’s grin assured her he didn’t take them personally.
“One of my many positive traits.”
“Let’s get this over with.” Vi rolled her eyes dramatically as she started for the door.
The rules of her life were simple, structured, and painfully clear.
If she followed them to the letter, remained the model future Empress, her reward would be reuniting with her family. She would be liberated from her beautiful, comfortable prison.
Intheory.
In practice, she was supposed to have been returned when she turned fourteen. But three long years had dragged on, and here she was on her seventeenth birthday. Still in the North. Still a ward confined to Soricium—the fortress, specifically, for her “safety.” Still stuck feeling trapped, repetition defining her days as she continued to try to jump through political hoops so high and obscure, she barely knew where she was half the time.
