I cry.
And when the tears begin to fall, so does the rain. Not drizzle –rain.The droplets come thick and fast, and I hold on to the sadness, letting myself feel it, gazing up in astonishment as it takes form above my head, streaming down my face, soaking the book in my lap.
After all these years of believing myself empty, it appearsmy gift is not gone for good. My gift is anchored to my grief. To sadness. Toher.
Power that arose out of pain.
And somehow, I find I’m smiling.
I turn back to the book. Already ink is running down the margins. I squint at the words scrawled there, attempting to blot the page dry with my sleeve.
Conceal, I read.Conceal, contain, control.
I take a few deep, shuddering breaths until the tears subside. Blinking hard, I push the memory of my mother away, watching it recede before my eyes. Then I concentrate on reeling my power in, as though it is something tangible, something alive.
Conceal, contain, control.
I watch as the rain slows before stopping entirely.
Drenched to the skin, heartsick but grinning, I grab the book, stuff it under my tunic and don’t stop running until I reach my chambers.
15
‘And why do you seem so cheerful all of a sudden, sister?’ Flint asks as we make our way up the spiral staircase towards the training room.
I shrug innocently. ‘Maybe I’ve just decided to be more positive about my situation.’
‘How very intriguing,’ he says. ‘You see, you’ve always struck me as such a carefree, optimistic sort of person.’
I raise an eyebrow. ‘Would you prefer it if I went back to being miserable?’
‘By no means,’ says Flint, tugging on one of my braids. ‘But does this drastic change in mood have anything to do with a certain prince? Only, last night you were nowhere to be found and I noticed Hal slipping out of the banquet hall during the speeches, and I just wondered if maybe you … you know, were together.’ He clears his throat. ‘And as your brother I feel it’s my duty to make sure that you’re being …sensible.’
‘Sensible?’
‘Responsible, then.’
I stare at him with unconcealed horror. ‘Are you trying to give me thetalk?’
Flint shudders theatrically. ‘I don’t know. Do I have to? I mean, you’re seventeen and it’s not like you have much experience with the ways of the world, and what with all the attention he’s been paying you recently, I’m just saying –’
‘Well, don’t,’ I interrupt. ‘I spent last night in bed.’
Flint looks aghast.
‘With a headache,’ I add, jabbing him in the ribs.
I’m not ready to tell Flint about my discovery. It still feels too raw, too personal, and I’d rather keep it to myself, for now at least.
Elva had been waiting in my chambers when I arrived back from the library, clutching the book to my chest. She left without a word when I dismissed her, and I spent the entire night in the bathing room practising, surrendering to my emotions without letting them swallow me, letting myself cry and calming myself down. Gradually I was able to tap into that sadness without letting it show, concealing as well as containing and controlling it, forcing my eyes to remain dry and my face to remain impassive, even when it felt like my heart was breaking. I did it again and again. I must have got through two dozen candles. I also must have nodded off at some point, because I awoke on the cold, wet tiles to Flint and Spinner hammering on the door, shouting at me that I was going to be late.
‘What time do you call this?’ Marina asks loudly as I approach the pool.
‘Thank you, Marina,’ says River. ‘Blaze, please join us.’
He sets the Heirs a few exercises to do and makes his way over to me, a question in his eyes. I nod, biting back a smile. ‘The book. You were right – it found me.’
‘And was it helpful?’
