I thought back to his expression—intrigued and studied—when he’d asked me to try ripping it. He’d told me he had a theory he wanted to test. What theory?
Was it possible Prince Thomas expected more of me all along?
Had he suspected something about my magic that no one else had, including myself?
I pressed my fingers to my temple, an ache building within. There was so much I didn’t know, so much left to learn. About magic. About myself. About others.
And I couldn’t just assume the answers anymore. I’d already missed too many opportunities by letting my assumptions shape my destiny, my view of myself.
Something was missing.
And by the Great Mage, I was going to figure out what it was.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
“Good morning.” Master Carter wiped his dripping hands on his robes from behind a steaming cauldron. I hung my light spring coat over a hook.
“Morning, Master Carter.”
His gaze dropped to the folder in my arms. He held out a hand. “Your proposal?”
I nodded. “Thank you for taking it to the palace for me.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t want to take it yourself.”
I shuddered even thinking about the trek to the castle. Since becoming a Master’s apprentice, I’d only snuck into the servants’ quarters once or twice to visit Anna. There were too many ghosts, too many memories of my own foolishness haunting its halls.
I tried to hide my embarrassment with a shrug. “You already attend the weekly Mage Council meetings.”
He flipped a few pages, skimming my findings. “And what conclusion have you come to during this independent research project of yours?”
The breakthrough had come from one of Anna’s smuggledbooks, late one night when I read only by the flickering light of a lone candle as my family slumbered.
I took a big breath. “That the plague was planned.”
“I beg your pardon?”
I stepped forward, pulling out the map tucked in the pages, the one I’d torn from the very atlas I’d bought Papa when he first fell sick. “The plague has spread throughout the continent rapidly, but after assembling a crude timeline, I realized the first cases appeared in Lakeview. Convenient for it to start in a port city that leads out to the ocean, no?”
He frowned.
“From the port, it spread throughout the Amouridian prairies, from city to city, and then on to Junira. A few old reports show Kerimiyans also falling to the disease in the following year.”
“So that leaves…”
“A potential origin in Cobleran or Pa’abo.”
He rubbed his jaw. “So which is it? And how will you disprove the assertion that cases arose from a natural source?”
I fidgeted under his scrutiny. “I couldn’t—and wouldn’t—feel comfortable pointing a finger at any kingdom. I’m not a politician, after all. But several signs do seem to point to the disease being planted here.”
“Such as…”
“It seems to have started with a single merchant ship. The boat stopped at both Cobleran and Pa’abo. When it arrived at Lakeview, only one passenger was left alive, barely clinging to the helm. He died shortly after.”
He raised an eyebrow. “And no other sailors on the docks seemed to have similar symptoms? No rats on deck with curious signs at the time?”
“All the rats onthisship were dead, yet there was ample for them to eat. And from there, the sickness spread to the sole survivor’s family, extended family, colleagues, and so on.”
