She barely knew this man, but he didn’t seem to be someone who used many words. In the quiet moment, she took him in. He was dressed in a tunic and flowy pants, clothes not particularly made for fighting and slaying.
“That’s a neat trick.” Iskra pointed to his hand.
He looked down at his palm, like he had no clue what she was talking about.
“The light. Though I don’t believe that will be helpful when it comes time to slay the dragon.”
Jasyn kept quiet, so Iskra kept talking.
“I never realized such magic existed in this court. I thought it was only flames.”
Still, nothing from him. Was he ashamed? He wasn’t even looking at her.
“This training might also be more helpful if you had an opponent,” she continued, only saying things to disturb the silence. She was tired of the quiet. She’d spent too many years in her head. Now that she had a reprieve, she wanted to fill the world with her words. A whiplash of memories hit her: of being in the fields as a young girl, her mouth blabbering and her mother shushing her for some peace. She blinked, preferring to avoid thinking too much about the past, before Kryth stole heraway from her home, the brand a magicked mark on her skin cursing her to shift each night and a way to keep track of her movements.
“I like training alone,” Jasyn said.
He speaks, she thought. Still not a lot of words, but enough to keep the conversation flowing. Esi had told her that on top of pretending to be Lady Esi, Iskra should also try to woo the prince. This marriage was advantageous for both her and the royal family, so even though Esi had wanted a small sliver of freedom before marriage, she was committed to making this work when the time came.
“You're very good with that sword,” Iskra praised in hopes of him responding. Esi had mentioned men thrived on compliments.
“Is—” He swallowed. “Is there something I can help you with?”
Hewasnervous. He had seemed confident yesterday, but perhaps that was just a show for his parents. Or maybe it was something deeper.
“To answer your earlier question, I’m out this early because of the freedom.”
“Freedom?”
Iskra nodded. “I’m sure you must know what it’s like to be duty-bound, how it can feel like a cage. I’ve been in my own cage my whole life. It’s freeing to be outside it.”
That was a light way of describing her current situation.
“I’ve been lucky enough to have a key to my cage. My siblings were the ones stuck inside theirs,” Jasyn explained.
She dipped her head. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
He shrugged. “It’s not your fault.”
And yet, Iskra felt like it was.
He sighed looking down at his hand. “My power is unique, and it would be wise you keep it to yourself.”
“Was that a threat?”
Jasyn snorted, and his nose crinkled. She wondered how he would look if he fully and freely laughed. It must be a contagious sight, because although he seemed to shrink into himself, there was still something composed and regal about his presence. He captured her attention and held it.
“I don’t think it would go well for me if I threatened my future wife. It was only a suggestion.”
“It’s beautiful. I don’t know why you would want to hide it.”
A warm gust of wind blew, and Iskra’s skirt billowed while her hair attacked her face. She went to brush it back from her lips, but Jasyn was there, pushing it away before she could. Usually, the sudden contact would cause her to flinch, but something about Jasyn only calmed her. She blinked her amber eyes at him, and her heart stuttered at his solemnity.
“My power is not what it has once been.” His voice was raw, pained. She could tell he was uncomfortable. Yet, she didn’t want this conversation to end. There was something so normal about talking to him, even if he was a prince.
“Do you do everything alone?” she asked, trying to change the direction of the conversation.
“Most things. Sometimes with Mych, but he’s usually busy being a guard.”
