Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
She picks up a teapot to pour. “Every time we have tea, you’re distracted.”
“Forgive me,” I say, turning all my attention to her forgiving smile. I hand her a spoon. “Whack me with this next time.”
She laughs, like the tinkling of fine crystal. “Is something the matter?”
I rub my temples. “Between health checks and studying,”—and revelling in these deep feelings for Nicostratus—“I barely get a moment to dwell on other thoughts.”
She smiles into a sip. “You’re at peace to think with me.”
“You’ve always offered calm and insight.”
“Flatterer.”
I smirk and say cheekily, “You think I’ll get in trouble with the king?”
“I think you are in trouble with the king.”
I jerk back in my seat. “What?”
“I’m not sure why, but when he watches you and Nicostratus practice—”
“He’s been watching us?”
“Whenever he comes to visit his son, he observes you both, frowns, and leaves abruptly. Something about you bothers him.”
I swallow. “He’s very protective of his brother. He wants to be sure I won’t get him in trouble.”
Veronica cocks her head and hums. As if she’s aware of my role in the last time Nicostratus got hurt. “I’m sure you won’t intend to.” Her gaze absorbs mine like she’s piecing me together, bit by bit, trying to get a clear picture of all the possible outcomes I might have now I’m back in her life.
My stomach tenses.
She smiles at me, too brightly. “Nicostratus speaks of you with a fondness I haven’t seen in him in years. Constantinos? Well, let’s say you bring out his sharper edges. He’s protective of his brother in ways most don’t understand, and you . . . you’ve added more concerns.”
I gulp down the last of my tea.
She looks up, a sparkle in her gaze. “They’re both good people. They mean well. They tell me everything about you.”
“Including clinging to the king’s leg at bath time?”
“Including that.”
I croak, adding a laugh that feels feigned. “I can never look you in the eye again.”
Veronica watches me for a few heart-pounding beats and then smiles. “They ask many questions about you. I do have fun telling them all your misadventures.” Her eyes twinkle and she gestures to the plum tree closest to me. “Remember how I tricked you into learning drakopagon?”
“You told me the first ripened plum of the year was magical and could make any wish come true. You told me I could have it if I learned drakopagon and helped you win against your brothers.”
“You really believed it. I’ve never seen someone master a sport so fast.”
“I wished to become a healer!”
“Looks like the plum was magic after all?”
I clear my throat. “Ah, did you really tell them that story?”
“It’s part of the reason I love plums so much.” She gazes at each tree, smiling. “I love this garden. I used to have another tree, right over there, but I donated it to the capital when the little prince was born.”
Heat sneaks up my throat. “I—I’m familiar with it.”
Her gaze descends to me. “You are?”
“I may have, sort of, accidentally destroyed it?”
“Cael!”
“Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to.” I peek at her through the gap between my arms, which are shielding my face. “Let’s call it . . . payback?”
Veronica tuts. Forgiveness and understanding. I hope, but I’m not sure, I deserve it. She looks over my shoulder, past my flushed cheeks. “Prince Nicostratus is approaching. Practice. I’ll visit my son.” She stands, and pauses before pivoting away. “Don’t hurt any more of my trees.”
To make sure of that, I guide Nicostratus deeper into the garden. The air is thick with the scent of violas and the tang of upcoming rain. It mingles with Nicostratus’s familiar smell: metallic and sharp, a trace of the long days he spends training. Letting them abuse him.
Then he comes here to train me.
He curls behind me to correct my hand motion and slides an arm around my waist, the flat of his palm on my abdomen. “Breathe in.”
“You must be tired,” I murmur. “Maybe we should stop for the day.”
He presses me closer, hand a hot imprint on my stomach. “The deeper you call your shield, the stronger it’ll be. Try to connect it with an emotion.”
“Emotion?”
“Haven’t you wondered why people leak magic when they get angry, upset, or even happy?”
I’ve leaked magic like that, of course. We all do. “It comes naturally.”
“Exactly.” His nose brushes my ear. “Feelings amplify magic.” He leads my hands into a dance that fires up nervous shivers. “They strengthen your attack, and your defences.”
The earthy shield before me pulses, thickening with bursts of colour like flower-heads before whizzing up over my head, behind me, to my side—
Nicostratus laughs softly, pleased. “Of course the stronger the feeling, the harder it is to control.” He turns my hands out and tells me to breathe in. I regain hold of the shield and keep it steady around me.