Her lips thinned, as though she regretted having brought it up. “They are usually the main reason a human might be found in mage territory.”
“Are they mageborn too?” I asked.
“Very much so. They are an old Order made up of the most obnoxious mageborn lineages, with a deeply exclusionary ideology. To put it mildly.”
“And why would they bring humans here?” I asked. “Is that what you’re saying?”
She took another sip from her glass, her expression stiffening.
“They are mostly a legal guild for those who still believe in mageborn dominance. They hold outdated views, like calling humans inferior.” She grimaced, her feelings about the group and their ideology painfully clear.
I frowned, the pink ale settling like a weight in my stomach.
“Yes. They should keep their ideas to themselves and be forbidden altogether, but they’re a group of nobles who like to pretend their ideology deserves to be heard like any other. The problem is that there are followers within the Order, and some of them are violent.”
The more I heard, the deeper the hostility toward humans seemed to run.
“And they hurt people,” I said, my leg bouncing lightly against the chair. “Or humans like me.”
“There have been cases,” she admitted, sorrow in her tone. “I lost a dear friend to one of the conflicts started by the Scions. She was a hybrid kin. One of her ancestors was human. She wielded like any of us, and she was one of the main voices speaking for them in Erisea.”
Alameda stared at the colourful garden, and though she kept her face neutral, I noticed the corners of her eyes glisten faintly, her expression tightening just slightly.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said.
The grim smile she gave me said enough.
She inhaled deeply. “Don’t mind me. I can be such a blubbering fool. I don’t even hold back when I have company.”
My next smile came easily, the most genuine one I’d given during this trip. I could almost forget she was a lady and a ruler.
I decided to change the subject for her sake.
“I was curious about something. Maybe you can indulge me,” I said. “Do you know anything about heartstones?”
“Heartstones? Yes, I know a little. What would you like to know?”
“How do they work? What are they, exactly?”
She tilted her head. “Ancient gemstones. There are several types. They serve as reservoirs that amass great power.” She fidgeted with her fingertips, and for a second, her eyes glowed purple. I blinked, unsure whether I’d imagined it. “It’s a resource I’ve always found fascinating. There’s a saying that gemstones hum to the same tune. It means they recognise their equals and resonate with the same energy when brought together, like sisters or friends.”
It didn’t sound like she knew only a little.
Her eyes flicked to mine, gauging my reaction, and I nodded, wondering whether she’d used some ability to recall her knowledge.
“They’re beautiful as jewels,” she added, “but they also have other uses.”
Like binding sentences.
“Why do you ask?”
I shrugged. “They’re pretty.”
“Here you are,” Coriander’s voice came from behind me.
She stared past me as Lord Barrows made his way toward her, Reagan a step behind him.
“What is this smell you brought into my garden?” she asked them, wrinkling her nose.
