The furrow in Emerys’ brow became even more pronounced. “You forgot about yourapprentice?”
“No—it’s just…” Evariste sighed and shifted so he sat upright. “She’s so clever. I don’t think she realizes how fast she’s been learning illusion weaving. Her power, it’sbreathtaking.And she has no idea! She could have stabbed me straight through, but I felt her react and yank back in a split second. No inexperienced student could do that—not even most veteranmages!”
Evariste stared at his bed’s canopy again, unable to faceEmerys.
“Really, it’s not so much that you forgot her, but that you forgot she’s not yet on your level,” Emerys said. “You’re hoping she’s as strong in her magic as you were, which is why you let yourself bestupid.”
“I don’t know.” Evariste tiredly ran a hand through his hair.Why did I have to befriend an Elf King of allpeople?
He knew the answer to that: it was because there was no oneelse.
Being a prodigy—and now, perhaps, legendary—made for a very lonely life. Regular mages were overly pleasant to him of course, but even other enchanters and enchantresses always beheld him with too muchrespect.
No one actuallylikedhim—or at least no one wanted to befriendhim.
Emerys was in a similarposition.
He was the youngest Elf King in centuries, and he hadn’t been prepared at all for his parents’ death, which plopped him on the throne in a rather abrupt manner. He was more sarcastic and brash than an average elf—never mind the Elf Kings beforehim.
And so, their friendship was a bond forged out of shared experiences, and a desperation for a friend who would see them as they really were and wouldn’t be afraid to speak theirmind.
Though sometimes I do wish Emerys wouldn’t speak his mind quite sobluntly.
“I need to tell Angelique that this wasmymistake, not hers,” Evariste saidfinally.
Emerys snorted. “Obviously. She’s walking around like a kickedpuppy.”
“Can you talk to her about it, too?” Evaristeasked.
Emerys tossed his head much like his pet unicorn. “What?Why?”
“Because she needs to hear it from someone else besides me, or she won’t believe it,” Evaristesaid.
“I don’t want to deal with your sugary-sweet apprentice. She’s going to cry,” Emerys saidplainly.
“She’snotsugary-sweet, she’s just acting like that,” Evariste said. “I told you the night we arrived that she has war magic—she has bones of iron. But that’s going to make it worse in this case because she’s going to take this as a sign that she’sevil.”
Emerys rolled his eyes. “So, she’s not just sugary-sweet, she’s dramatic too. Charming. My answer is stillno.”
“Emerys…”
“Ask Alastryn. She actuallyknowsthe girl,” Emeryscomplained.
“Yes, but you are my personal friendandthe Elf King. She’s less likely to think you are lying,” Evaristecountered.
Emerys groaned but finally conceded. “Fine. I’ll talk to your dear apprentice,” he growled. “But if she cries, I’m leaving withoutfinishing.”
“She won’t cry,” Evaristepromised.
Emerys looked unconvinced. “Stay in bed. If you come tottering outside like a babe first learning to walk and your dear apprentice sees you, you’re only going to make her feelworse.”
Evariste nodded. “As you say.” He waved farewell to hisfriend.
The dark-haired Elf King grunted once then strode off, looking as excited as a weasel caught in a trap. He ducked out of the palace’s sick room, leaving Evaristealone.
Evariste scratched his forehead and leaned back against his bed’sheadboard.
It seems I won’t be getting any awards for my skills as a teacher.He ruefully smiled and shook his head.Particularly not if I forget that my student is on a different knowledge level than Iam.
