I strapped on my armor of composure as Catrin led me through a servant’s hall so I could enter away from the crowds. Knowing her mischievous nature, I braced myself for a sudden push into the tumult, butshe showed remarkable patience and waited by my side as I watched and grew re-accustomed to the overflow of emotions surrounding me.
The scent of wet wool and muddy clothes from the throngs of people packing the hall overpowered the more familiar smells of good food and mead I associated with the space. The high-arched windows let in a pale, cold light that silvered the stone floors.
Instinctively, my gaze searched for something—someone—solid to focus on. The golden torcs Nisien and Emrys wore around their necks were new to me. Except Emrys wore his like it was a burden instead of a priceless mark of rank. He sat beside his twin, both of them robed in dark, austere fabrics that marked them as rulers even without the gold adorning them. Nisien leaned back in his chair with careless grace, like a man waiting for applause, while Emrys sat straight, hands folded, unreadable.
I stood in the shadows behind the banister, trying to make myself small.
But Nisien spotted me anyway. I’d begun to suspect that he was constantly, subtly searching for any trace of magic around him—a shrewd tactic for a ruler.
“There she is,” he announced, loud enough for the murmurs in the gallery to hush. “Lady Isca of independent Caervorn. Don’t be shy. Come forward. We have a chair waiting for you.”
He’d enhanced his voice with magic, which could only mean that he wanted the room to see me. Emrys remained silent, but the air around him turned colder.
I curtseyed, face flushing from all the attention. Maybe that was why Catrin had insisted I wear the pink dress—my burning cheeks matched its color. Plus, its intricate beadwork of pearls at the collar and waist shimmered, catching the light, making me stand out even more.
I glanced at Emrys, but he didn’t look at me. His gaze remained locked on a farmer who’d stepped forward a few minutes before, hat in hand, speaking of a dispute with his neighbor. Something about barley, boundary stones, and a goat.
But everyone else had fallen silent after Nisien’s greeting. My slippered footsteps echoed as I crossed the floor. The weight of a hundred eyes pressed against my back as I took the seat to Nisien’s left. Emrys’s knuckles whitened on the chair’s armrest, but he said nothing.
“Lady Isca is here on behalf of the Mage Assembly,” Nisien announced, voice warm. “She’s our honored diplomat, a skilled negotiator with a knack for finding common ground. She also possesses a talent quite useful for a royal audience.”
I shot him a glance. I didn’t like it, but he was right. If there were more empathic mages around, we would probably be in every court.
Smiling innocently, like he hadn’t just put me on the spot, Nisien gestured toward the arguing farmers.
“You’re an empath,” he said quietly. “Use it.”
My mouth went dry. I sensed no malice from Nisien, more like innocent curiosity mixed with excitement. I couldn’t fault him for it. This was an appropriate place for a supposed diplomat to apply her empathic skills.
A tremor of timidity ran through me. I’d spent most of my life hiding what I could do in the outer ring of Caervorn. The thought of using magic in front of so many people was terrifying. But the men’s voices started to rise now that Nisien wasn’t speaking. And it was clear no one else intended to stop them—that was my job.
I closed my eyes to shut out the pressure of so many gazes upon me and reached out.
The first farmer was a furious blaze with a seed of betrayal hidden in his core. While a swarm of self-righteousness and poorly hidden guilt consumed the second man. I’d heard enough of their story to piece together the truth of it from their emotions. A private understanding had existed between them, but the second farmer had broken it. He’d likely moved the boundary marker stones to take a stretch of fertile land for himself. When he was caught, he’d allowed his goat to wander onto the second man’s fields to make it seem an accident.
I opened my eyes to a sea of faces staring at me expectantly. “Prince Nisien, Prince Emrys, this man is radiating guilt, but the man accusing him feels the betrayal of his neighbor most deeply.”
The accused farmer’s face went white then red while the other man swore under his breath about being deceived. The room immediately erupted into chatter. The majority of the audience were mundane, so they probably hadn’t felt my magic probing the two men—for all they knew, I was lying.
Nisien leaned ever so slightly in my direction and whispered, “I’ve been told you can push. Make a display they won’t forget.”
What else could I do but comply? I wasn’t certain if Nisien wanted his people to fear me or love me, so I settled on the emotion I was most comfortable with, one I thought wouldn’t land me in trouble with the Assembly or the aristocracy of Darreth.
The wave of soothing energy I sent out felt like the first breath of spring, soft and fragrant with the memory of the sweet scent of wildflowers, promising better days and sunshine ahead. Gratifying silence spread over the room.
Out the corner of my eye, I saw Emrys slump in his seat. His shoulders drooped, and a silent sigh escaped his lips. The energy I was spending with this trick was far greater than the time I’d attempted to calm Emrys through his door. I wanted to slump too, but there was no way I could get away with it with so many eyes on me.
With the magic cut off, it didn’t take long for the guilty farmer to shout his defense, voice raw with indignation. “I-I don’t know what she’s—”
“You do,” Emrys roared, his booming voice cutting like a blade through the quiet.
The man’s body then moved as if yanked by strings, like a puppet, straight to the ground. His face was against the stone with so much force I feared his skull would burst.
“Apologize to the lady,” Emrys growled.
Nisien turned to his brother with a bored expression on his face, but I sensed the concern radiating from him. He looked composed, but he was worried that Emrys would murder the man.
I was too.
