“You first.” Isahn sent a tendril of water magic, not even trying to conceal it, directly at the princess. A crystalline serpent, it slithered through the air at eye level.
She slapped it with her hand and leapt back, scrambling for the door. The invisible hands, her touch magic, barred Isahn to the wall again. The silent guard, the mirage, stepped forward, menace in her eyes.
“Wait, wait, wait!” Isahn withdrew his magic rapidly, letting it curl and twist in the air between them. “I’m not going to hurt you. I promise, Princess.”
She spun to face him, her back pressed against the door and a knife gleaming in her left hand, produced from some hidden pocket in her robe. She slashed at his magic, but the blade passed straight through before the cord re-formed. Pointing the weapon at him, her hand shook slightly, the only tell of her nerves.
“My name’s Isahn Yaranbur, Earl of Midlake,” he offered outright, needing to earn her trust. He truly wasn’t planning tohurt her. He’d intended to touch her arm, maybe her hair, to see if he couldn’t get her to drop the mirage she insisted on keeping in place.
“Who do you work for?” She brandished the knife, ready to slash at his magic again, should the tendrils move any closer. It wouldn’t have done anything.
“Myself?”
She scowled.
“You can drop the act, you know.”
“What act?”
“The blonde hair, the blue eyes, the decidedly Selwassan visage.” If Isahn could have gestured with his hand, he would’ve. As it was, he sort of wiggled his shoulder in her general direction.
“Excuse me?” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“Here... use your touch magic to slice through my water.”
A muscle in her jaw tensed.
Slowly, he eased a cord of magic toward her.
An invisible knife whizzed down and sliced off the tip. Droplets splashed to the floor as Isahn hissed in pain.
The princess’s eyes snapped up from the small puddle. “That hurt you?”
“Yes.”
“Why’d you let me do that?”
He blinked.
She pursed her lips before relaxing. Her hands dropped to her sides, fingertips brushing the patterned silk of her robe as she leaned against the closed door.
“Do you mind if I use my magic to clean up?”
“I’m not uncuffing you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Then, go ahead,LordYaranbur.” The princess unfurled her fingers, swooshing them gracefully—and flippantly—through the air.
Isahn smirked. She didn’t believe him.
“You know,” he began, winding his water magic over his body without holding the liquid back from drenching his clothing and skin. “I would’ve been able to prove I’m the earl, if you hadn’t stolen me away from Sorhaven.”
Her narrow lips pressed into an almost invisible line.
“My signet ring, along with the rest of my belongings, are back at the Djemirian.” He gave her a look. “I had no opportunity to retrieve them.” Using a high-pressure stream of water, he cleaned the dirt from his boots and his feet while he was at it.
She ran her tongue over her teeth. “Under what name?”
