“You are all my sons,” King Frederich responded. “None of you are expendable. But you have a different responsibility. One that I expect you to fulfill.”
“Yes, Father,” Ian replied, his voice returning to his usual respect at the mention of duty. Aden’s oldest brother was nothing if not honorable.
“Erich is gone?” Aden asked. That would explain why he’d never returned.
“Yes,” his father replied. “Two unidentified ships are still offshore. I need to write messages for the other kingdoms. Ian, come. You can help me with that.”
Aden listened to the sound of the footsteps disappear down the length of the hall. He returned to his own room, more restless than before.
He and his brothers had trained for war their entire lives. Iseldis was the kingdom of warriors. Now that a battle was on their doorstep, Aden was useless.
He paced his room until the sun set. At least the rest of the castle was as restless as he was.
As he lay in bed not sleeping, he heard a small scratch at the door. Just as he had been for the past few nights, Warrior was at the door, looking for his old friend.
Aden got up from the bed and stepped gingerly toward the door. For being twice as large and heavy as he had previously been, he could walk more quietly than he ever had. When he reached the door, he undid the latch and opened it a crack.
Warrior wriggled into the room. Aden could hear him sniffing his way to the bed, then wandering around when he discovered the bed was empty.
It took him a surprisingly long time to discover Aden, who was still standing behind the door. Snarling through puppy teeth, Warrior growled at the massive beast who had replaced his favorite person.
Hopefully, the pup’s future fierceness would compensate for his lack of brains. He was not the smartest wolfhound Aden had met.
After the dog had dashed from the room, Aden closed his door again and dragged his broken heart back to bed. He was heartened that Warrior kept trying to find his old friend, but that only made it all the more difficult to bear his barks of rejection.
Just when his tired mind had finally dozed off, another scratch at the door brought him instantly to wakefulness.
“Psst. Aden?” Onric’s voice whispered through the door. “Are you awake?”
“I am now,” Aden grumbled back. “Your tramping through the halls would wake even a hibernating bear.”
As his brother entered the room, Aden quickly recognized the softer footfalls of Ashlin Cabril, the girl who had stolen his brother’s heart.
“Who else is with you?” Aden asked, referring to a third set of footsteps.
“Mistress Cedrice, the seamstress from town,” Ashlin responded. “She...”
When Ashlin paused, Onric finished the sentence. “She may have some insight into your... condition.”
“I said no more physicians.” Aden’s voice came out closer to a growl.
“I am here in secrecy, Your Highness,” Mistress Cedrice interjected, “because I have a trifling knowledge of the Majis and their ways.”
Aden could not make out any identifying features of the older woman, but her presence was calming. She was nothing like the physicians and surgeons that had bowed and scraped their way into his presence. “Tell me what you know, seamstress.”
“Very little, I am afraid,” she replied. “These two have given me several accounts of what happened that night, but I should like to hear what you experienced.”
He thought back to the events of that horrible night, as he had many times, but the specifics were as hazy as his eyesight. “When the room grew dark,” he said, “I saw Ian just standing there, and I knew the ball of light from the attacker was gathering power. So, I jumped forward to protect him. I do not remember anything else. I did not even feel the orb hit me. I just woke up some hours later with a sharp pain in my head and... like this.”
“You heard the attacker chanting?”
“I suppose I did. I do not recall it as I was focused on getting to Ian in time.”
“This self-contained orb is beyond my limited experience.” Mistress Cedrice sighed. “I have no idea how powerful this Lord Munney was. I have never experienced a magic that was entirely contained in itself. The only magic I have seen requires an object to interact with.”
“Like needing the shard of glass to create my shoes for the ball,” Ashlin said, her voice dawning with understanding.
“Precisely.”
