And when I stormed through the glass doors into the assortment of exotic plants, still dripping from my morning swim, Doran did not so much as blink in surprise.
“You’ve caused quite the fuss, you know,” he said, not looking up from where he was lovingly tending to his forget-me-nots. “Choosing to invoke the fury of Her Majesty on the morning of your Ascension Ball.”
“It’s not my fault, I am…” I trailed off with a glance at the guards flanking me. Though their faces were masked in indifference, they’d undoubtedly overheard the entire interaction between my grandmother and me. That didn’t mean they needed to hear my unfiltered thoughts on the matter. “Leave us,” I commanded, my voice tight.
Ever since the riots began, my grandmother had increased the level of security around me. The guards’ constant presence wore on me at the best of times. Today, it chafed.
With an incline of their heads, they made towards the doors of the greenhouse. Doran waited until they were outside and the doors were closed before he spoke again.
“You are what?” he asked, his eyes never wavering from the blooms he nourished with water droplets conjured from his fingertips.
I threw my arms in the air. “I am the victim here. That tea was bloody scalding.”
He stopped what he was doing long enough to spear me with his amethyst stare. “And it is a mere coincidence that the gown you made no secret of loathing was destroyed? And how fortunate that a replacement has been so promptly arranged.”
I studied my nails. “I’ll admit I didn’t weep when the gown was soiled.” I shrugged. “As for the replacement—haven’t you always taught me to be prepared for anything?”
He shook his head. “You ought to have known better than to push her today. And don’t just stand there idly, make yourself useful,” he said, jerking his chin towards a row of plants.
“Why? Is something important happening?” I deadpanned, reaching for a cannister of water.
“Try again,” he admonished, staring pointedly at the cannister in my hands.
I reached into my core to access my powers. Immediately, a body of water shaped like a cannister appeared in front of me, trickling fat droplets into Doran’s potted plants.
“Very amusing,” he said dryly. “I am pleased to see my lessons have paid off.”
Doran had been assigned as my tutor when I was born. He was loyal to my grandmother, exceptionally well-read, and so well-traveled it was something of a miracle that he was within the kingdom’s borders when the curse fell. His tales always entertained me, and I quickly learned that, if I ever grew bored during my studies, all I had to do was ask him about his adventures.
I could always detect an undertone of yearning when he spoke of his life before. To go from boundless freedom to captivity would be excruciating for someone with a curious mind and the heart of an explorer.
“Not that it’ll matter tonight. Either I possess elevatedpowers or I don’t,” I said, doing my best to sound nonchalant.
All Mer were Velcarin—near-immortal beings created by the goddesses to act as sentinels for the world. All Velcarin were born with inherent magic: elementary, elemental and, for some, elevated powers. Only the most powerful Velcarin possessed elevated powers, which lay dormant until they reached twenty-two years of age. The age I would be tomorrow. Hence the Ascension Ball.
My grandmother expected that I would ascend into one or more elevated powers at midnight. Then, I was to present my new power to an audience of courtiers and nobles to demonstrate my strength and solidify my position as the rightful heir to the kingdom.
“Your elementary and elemental powers are most impressive,” he said, gesturing to my canister-shaped water. “I am confident you will ascend. Besides, it is expected to rain tonight—an auspicious omen.”
Elementary powers were the foundations of magic—self-healing, enhanced senses, and the ability to manipulate the world, to a certain extent.
Elemental powers included the ability to conjure and manipulate the elements. They were given to Velcarin by specific goddesses. Vell gifted the Mer with the power of water, Tuli gave the Fae fire, Seru blessed the Sylphs with air magic and Ceda gifted the Elves with earth powers.
My existing powerswerestrong, but elevated powers were not guaranteed. It was entirely possible that, when midnight struck, I would have no new power to demonstrate. A pit formed in my stomach at the thought.
“Let’s hope that’s true. Otherwise, I’m fairly certain my grandmother will disown me.” I raised the pitch of my voice, hoping it came out like a joke.
He said nothing, but his grimace was answer enough.
We continued to water the plants, buried inside our own thoughts, until I broke the silence. “It still doesn’t sit right with me that she’s holding a celebration when we all know what tomorrow is. I wish we could skip the theatrics.”
“Don’t say such things,” Doran said sharply. “Your Ascension Ball is more than a celebration, it is an opportunity to demonstrate your strength and your commitment to the throne, so that no one will dare contest the Eldoris bloodline.”
I didn’t need any reminders about why this evening was critical, but his words only amplified my nerves. “You sound like her.”
Having tended to every plant in the greenhouse, Doran straightened and turned to face me. “Tonight is important; not just for you, but for the future of Vantillios. Your subjects will be watching. Closely.”
I highly doubted my subjects gave a damn. Outside of court, my subjects barely knew me, just as I barely knew them. My grandmother had seen to it that I lived a sheltered life within the confines of the palace walls. She insisted it was for my protection, but I was certain it was a way to keep me from experiencing anything that didn’t align with her curated existence.
