“I—”
“Perhaps you’ve forgotten your place. Your duty to my city.” His backhand sent me sprawling. The stone floor hit hard and cold against my cheek, and I tasted blood where my teeth had cut the inside of my mouth.
“You’ll make up for lost time,” he said as if nothing had happened.
I pushed myself up slowly, carefully. My hands shook. I noted all the eyes again, wondering if one of them was Vitoria’s mysterious patron as I rose, feeling suddenly, dangerously alone.
“I can try,” I whispered. Weak. Demure. Playing the role, despite the anger burning, and the griffin, no doubt full size somewhere, rattling our bond.
Tiberius hit me again.
I fell harder this time, vision blurring. The ringing in my ears made his next words distant.
“You will nottry. You will succeed.”
I stayed down. Kept my head lowered. Acted appropriately broken.
Because I finally understood. This wasn’t about my absence. This was about control. About reminding me exactly where I stood in his hierarchy.
“Rise,” he commanded.
I obeyed on shaking legs.
A young witch was escorted in, barely older than twenty, if I had to guess. He held a piece of bloodstone in trembling hands, trying to carve a rune that clearly wasn’t working. Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the room’s chill.
“Show him what he’s doing wrong,” Tiberius ordered me.
I moved closer, studying the witch’s attempt. The runework was technically correct, symbols carved with sufficient precision, and the intent clear. But the magic wouldn’t flow.
“It’s not a matter of doing it wrong,” I said, keeping my voice gentle despite the taste of blood in my mouth. “It’s about strengthening a muscle. Magic requires practice and patient endurance.”
I turned to the terrified witch. “Try again. This time, when the magic wants to stop, refuse to let it. Push through the resistance.”
The young witch shook his head. “It’s so hard in this building. The wards fight me.”
Tiberius made a sound. Something like a pig’s grunt.
Fitting.
I ignored it, keeping my focus on the young man. “You’ll grow strong from practice. Nothing else will make it work, no matter how much you’re pushed.” I spoke to him, but really to everyone watching. “You’ll need to try very hard, but also to sleep, eat, and rest when your body tells you to.”
I was saving him. Giving him permission to have boundaries.
Tiberius stepped forward and grabbed the young witch by the throat.
“You will not make excuses for your lack of power when we’ve just learned it’s a simple matter of perseverance.” He leaned closer until my entire heart stopped. “You’ll weave my runes or die trying.”
He released the man, who stumbled back, gasping. “You’re dismissed for now, witch.”
The young man fled.
“The rest of you as well,” Tiberius said to his watching advisors.
They filed out, having never spoken a word, leaving me alone with the Magistrate again.
“What do you know of curses, Syneca Black? And I hope I’ve been clear. You will not lie to nor outsmart me.”
He had never addressed me by my full name. Terror crawled up my spine as I gave an answer I knew he wasn’t going to like. “Truly nothing. I thought I could be more of an asset to you as a Rune Weaver, so I focused my studies on that, rather than darker magic. I just know once a curse is triggered, it’s almost impossible to escape.”
