“Mum thought it would be for the best if we weren’t friends.”
“What?”
“She…She doesn’t want you hanging around anymore.”
“And you?”
Young-Bash doesn’t answer.
“Wonderful.So, what? I’m getting cast aside because you can’t keep your ego in check forfivefucking minutes? Was trying to get a smidge of magic seriously worth all this?”
Young-Bastion surges forward, trying to push Young-Will’s arm away, but Young-Will holds him in place.
“You don’t get it,” Young-Bash growls. “The pressure of being next in line. I have to—”
“You don’thave todo anything, idiot.Youmake the rules.”
“Of course you think it’s that easy. You can do anything you want with magic!”
Young-Will sighs and finally lets the prince go. He falls back against the stone wall opposite and wipes his hair back.
“Not everything. Have you been up there since?” he asks.
“…No.”
“It’s a mess. One nearby village had their entire spring harvest die. The soil is ruined, and it won’t be long until they’re forced to move. I tried but I couldn’t— You need to help them or find someone who can. It’s your fault after all.”
“What am I supposed to do? If magic can’t undo it, what do you want me to do?”
Young-Will wrinkles his nose in disgust. “You’re pathetic.”
Red creeps up the prince’s neck. He straightens his shoulders.
“Don’t come near me again, Will.”
Just before he makes it back to the street, Young-Will lunges forward and slaps a hand to Young-Bash’s forehead. There’s a short glow of magic.
“Get off me, jerk. What are you doing?” Young-Bash says, pushing him off.
“I’ve revoked your privileges,” he hisses. “You can no longer get past the wards to the cottage. Enjoy your loneliness,Your Royal Highness.”
Young-Bash doesn’t quite succeed in seeming unbothered.
The scene spins and we’re in the cottage. Ruth stands solemnly beside her husband, a hand on his shoulder. The man looks gaunter than before. He hunches in one of the wooden chairs he made as both parents watch Young-Will rant, kitten Gill trailing behind his every step.
“How do we know the tree didn’t cause this?” Young-Will seethes. “It killed everything else, and you were thererightafter. Bash and I must not have been affected because of my shielding spell.”
“It’s the hand we’ve been dealt,” Ruth says.
“Don’t give me that,” Young-Will says, spinning on his heel. “There has to be something we can do. You’re a healer.”
His parents exchange a glance.
My breath catches as I realize what’s happening. This must be how Will’s dad passed away. He must have gotten sick not long after the incident.Oh,gods,Will.
“Marc…” Ruth says to her husband, “talk some sense into him.”
My Will squeezes my hand and smiles down at me.
