When the news of peace had reached Elias, he had packed away his mask and blue robes in a secret compartment at the bottom of his trunk. The trunk always travelled with him. But he’d not worn the mask or robes since then.
Elias forced himself to turn his head away from Prince Gerard and listen to the grand monk.
“We of course have designed many elements of the upper monastery with our guests’ backgrounds, cultures, and powers in mind.” The grand monk smiled at his father. “We have the courtyard for those from Draconia where they can land in their dragon form.”
And as the grand monk continued to speak, Elias found his gaze and thoughts drifting back to the dragon warrior.
Elias’s heart rate picked up as he gazed upon those strong brows and jaw-line. He found himself watching those full lips, which the scars touched. Elias thought the scarring made him appear more distinguished and tougher. They showed his strength.
But perhaps that was just Elias’s ego. After all, the man’s face had been touched by Elias’s magic. And Elias loved his magic and its strength.
I still cannot believe he stands!
Elias was part of the small number of lightning archmages. As such, unlike other sorcerers, he worked alone. Most sorcerers had to work in a cell so they could combine their powers. Most sorcerers also lacked proper control of their magic. So they wore inscribed bracers to control it.
Elias lifted his chin. But he did not need to work in a cell or wear inscribed jewellery. He’d killed dragons completely on his own. He also cast far faster than a typical lightning sorcerer.
He’d been twelve when he’d been tested and told the extent of his powers. His great-uncle on his mother’s side had been adamant that he should be the one to test Elias. At the time, Elias had no clue why he’d pushed so hard. But since then, he’d learnt that his mother’s family had produced quite a few lightning archmages.
A truly powerful lightning sorcerer was worth thirty normal sorcerers. Not only because they were stronger, but because they could travel more easily and attack the enemy unexpectedly. Which was what he’d been doing when he’d faced Prince Gerard.
But being a lightning archmage also made you a target.
A century ago, during one of the many times when Voltaria and Zephyrias were at war, Zephyrian assassins had killed seven lightning archmages in one night. That was half the archmages Voltaria had.
Since then they hid their identities. And they created rumours. Like that lightning archmages trained far from civilisation. In forests and caves and other unpleasant, dirty, damp places.
In reality, an older sorcerer took on and trained a younger one. Like he was doing with Colette. They trained wherever they went. It was true that some lightning sorcerers had such weak powers that they were practically useless and could not be placed in cells. But Elias was not one of those individuals.
Yet that narrative was the perfect cover to hide his true power. Honestly, Elias kind of liked playing everyone for a fool. He liked walking around, knowing how much more power he had than everyone around him. And no one had any clue.
Prince Gerard exhaled. For a second, it seemed as if hewas about to turn towards Prince Elias and look at him. Instead he took a sip of wine from his goblet.
Elias lifted his left foot from the ground. The leg that had been pinned and smashed. He circled his ankle. For some reason, he wanted to touch his leg. He wanted to show Prince Gerard his scars.
Because beneath his hose and shoes, Prince Gerard had marked Elias. Just like Elias had marked the dragon warrior prince.
Chapter
Eight
From the upper floor of the ballroom, Gerard stood, watching Prince Elias stride across the floor below, head high and white hair flowing behind him. A silver circlet on his head caught the light from the chandeliers. His hips swayed as he walked.
Tonight he wore a sheer black tunic with blue floral patterns embroidered into it. Over that, he wore a long coat. The silver circlet sat on his white hair. Everyone he passed turned to watch him.
He really is too fucking beautiful. Too bad he is a naive fop.
Gerard forced himself to look away. He glanced at Senta beside him before he looked out over the crowd of monks, royals, dignitaries, ambassadors, and nobles as they talked, drank, ate, and swirled across the dance floor.
Several times now, Gerard had felt the intensity of Prince Elias’s piercing gaze.But why does he watch me?
Unlike Prince Elias, Gerard was not pleasant to look at. Usually people looked away, not at him. Gerard stopped himself from turning to stare at Prince Elias once again.Instead he focused on the grand monk speaking to Empress Emmeline.
I really should not be so captivated by the lightning prince.Just because he was beyond pretty, didn’t make up for the absence of intellect or character.
Gerard had heard the man speak. That should be enough to stop any stirring of attraction. Still, Gerard often found himself watching the prince. Earlier that night, he’d observed as Prince Elias appeared to be flirting with Luther, Gerard’s younger brother.
Gerard pressed his lips together.Fucking Luther.It was his betrothal ball to Warden Onyx! He should not be flirting with someone who was not his future spouse.
