Peeking with one eye, I see no fire emitting from my palm.
I wave my hand from left to right, surging my palm towards the logs. “Fire,” I repeat. Nothing happens, causing me to let out a groan of annoyance. “Come on, fire! I’m freezing at night!” I sigh, dropping my arm back to my side.
“Okay… shape, don’t take. Shape, don’t take.” I repeat the mantra over and over as I try to focus. Trying my best not to overcharge, I will the magic into my palm exactly as Wrath taught me.
Several silent moments pass, but then, I feel something. A slight heat creeps across my skin. I squint to look at it. There’s a tiny spark forming on my fingertips, but no flame. It fades instantly. Sighing, I open my eyes and drop my hand.
“Think… think…” I tell myself to keep going, refusing to lose motivation.
Picking up a small piece of kindling, I hold it between my fingers as I try to summon the sparks again. I close my eyes and steady my breath. Shape, don’t take. Draw from the earth into my fingertips. I feel a fiery spark between my fingers, slowly growing into something hot.
I open my eyes, and the spark fades immediately.
“This is so difficult!” I whine.
The space around me is so quiet, so still. It reminds me of all the time I spent locked in my room back home in Cathros, lying on my back as I counted the stones in the ceiling. It is one of the ways I coped when Valentin was gone. Winter was the one time of the year we got to spend together, the one time my isolation was bearable. Even though we were within the walls, his company made them seem far less constricting.
I flop on my back, holding my right hand into the air above me, aimlessly snapping my fingers as I try to imagine sparks shooting from my fingertips. Since arriving in Khalessor, I have been far from alone. Yet I still feel unfulfilled. What is my purpose? My place? When I’m finally free, I might be able to learn those things. I barely know who I am; my sole focus was on surviving Margaret’s abuse and fulfilling the roles my father expected of me. I enjoyed playing the pianoforte and eating pumpkin scones, but didn’t dwell on much beyond that.
The longer I think about who I am, the more blank my mind becomes. Like my favorite color, or what season I enjoythe most. I feel like a shell sometimes. Alive but hollow, breathing but not prospering, conscious but neverhappy. All that kept me from hurling myself over my balcony’s railing in Cathros were the few good memories with Valentin and endlessly re-reading The Warlord Chronicles. Those pages were my only comfort in the loneliness.
I snap my fingers absently one more time, my palm shifting from hot to cold as a flicker of heat and flame sputters to life in the blink of an eye. It vanishes as quickly as it appeared, my body shooting upright as I gaze at my open palm in shock. Magic, however small and fleeting, emitted from my hand.
There’s a soft knock at my door. I stand and open it to reveal Aurelia, who steps inside. She appears tired, her eyes a little weary, but she still radiates a friendly warmth.
“Is there something you need, Princess?” Aurelia asks.
“Do you know where Lord Cerian is staying in the castle?”
She ponders my question for a brief moment, tapping her foot a few times. “I think I’ve delivered food to his room once before.”
“Confirm which room he stays in and slip this under the door for him.” I pull the letter from my sleeve and hold it out to her. “When you do, leave as quickly as possible. Do not let anyone catch you, understand?”
Aurelia nods, her brown eyes wide as she takes it from me. “All right.”
“This is very important, Aurelia. You must do this soon,” I urge her, my voice unwavering.
“Yes, Princess,” she obeys.
“Thank you,” I say softly. “You’ve been a great help.” I dig through my satchel, pulling out some of my pay from the tavern and handing it to her. “Here.”
She shakes her head. “I can’t possibly take that much. That’s a whole week’s pay?—”
I take her hand in mine, turning it over and dropping the ten silver coins into her palm. “For Violet.”
“Thank you so much, Princess!” She bows. “I’ll handle this right away.”
“One more thing–!” I call out, stopping her from leaving. I have been purposefully avoiding this for weeks, trying to find the right time to explain her father’s death.
“Yes?”
“Your father…” My voice trails off as I try to find the confidence to tell her. “He’s no longer with us.”
The edges of Aurelia’s eyes water. “Thank Seluna.” She inhales a shaky breath. “That’s a relief.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
The doorto Wrath’s war room flings open, slamming against the opposite wall with a loud bang. A booming voice fills the space. “Begone. Now.” Wrath’s voice echoes down the hall, stopping me in my tracks.
