Every morning after he mistphased me to the field, he would cast warded magic around my work area before disappearing. If any snowgums came prowling, the wards would alert his guards, giving them precious seconds to mistphase me out of there.
Luckily, the giant cat that I’d burned during the previous attack had yet to make an appearance, and I had a feeling it remembered my scent and chose to stay away. I had no idea how badly I’d burned it, but its skin had been charred in places. And luckily, considering they were territorial creatures, I had a feeling it was the only giant cat in the area for millees.
As though the prince had come to the same conclusion, he seemed to feel comfortable that my safety wasn’t compromised, so each day he left me in Isalee with his magic in place, under his guards’ care, and asked me to continue my work.
I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d regretted our date, perhaps regretted many things regarding me, especially when stress lines marred his features, and his manner remained closed off and guarded.
I tried not to care that for the first time since he’d begun demanding that I use my affinity to heal our land that he wasn’t at my side, and I firmly reminded myself that his absence was what I wanted. Yet his presence had become familiar in a way, and as much as I didn’t want to admit it—I missed him.
“What is it you’re doing every day?” I finally asked him on day three, no longer able to keep my curiosity at bay.
“Princely duties,” he replied, annoyance in his tone.
“Oh . . . sorry I asked,” I mumbled as I slipped off my gloves and plunged my hands through the snow toward the dirt. A bubble of the prince’s magic surrounded me and his guards, so despite the howling wind and fierce cold, where I worked was relatively comfortable.
A low growl came from the prince, and then he knelt by my side. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
Haxil glanced over his shoulder at us, but when the prince bared his teeth, the guard turned back around.
I shoved my hand more through the snow, my movement agitated. “It’s fine. It’s not my concern. You don’t need to explain what you do to me or divulge how you spend your time.” I broke through a layer of ice at ground level. Cold, dry soil greeted my searching fingers.
“Perhaps not, but I didn’t mean to sound irritated with you. It’s not you who’s annoying me. Council meetings are what have been pulling me back to the castle. I’ve been missing them as of late, and my father isn’t happy.”
“Oh.” My erratically beating heart slowed as I remembered Lord Crimsonale’s visit to the healing infirmary, and it struck me anew that spending all morning at my side while I worked the fields was incredibly draining of the prince’s time. It also reaffirmed that I literally had no idea what the crown prince normally did or what his daily duties were, which reminded me of what he’d said on our date. With royalty comes demands. With demands come chains.
“Do you normally attend all council meetings?” I asked hesitantly.
His irritated scowl didn’t lessen. He tore a hand through his hair. It was unbound today, and silver locks hung loosely around his strong jaw. “I’m supposed to, although our meetings haven’t been pleasant lately.”
“Because of the diminishing orem?”
He nodded. “Tensions are running high. Lord Crimsonale and Lady Wormiful are insisting we move our race to the southern continent and abandon our land before it’s too late. My father is resisting.”
A wave of relief billowed through me. “Because the king doesn’t want war?”
The prince snorted. “I think the real reason is because he’s stubborn, and he doesn’t think the orem is truly vanishing.” I frowned and wanted to ask more, but the prince stood. “I really must go. I shouldn’t be late, but that’s why I haven’t been very pleasant lately and why I haven’t been accompanying you.”
I sat back on my heels, realizing it was the most he’d ever revealed about his daily life. I knew he regularly visited the territories and was required to uphold the law using his death affinity, but I hadn’t considered the more diplomatic sides of his life. Council meetings. Political discussions. Subduing territory squabbles.
For some reason, I couldn’t picture the crown prince sitting in the council chambers each day, listening to angry territory archons fight and bicker over the direction of our great kingdom. It seemed too caged of an existence for the prince, like it clipped his wings. He had so much power and strength in him that it almost felt as though he needed to move and roam, and a stuffy council chamber certainly wasn’t for that.
When the prince made to turn away, I grabbed his hand. He stopped, stilling completely as his gaze fell to where I’d touched him.
I hastily removed my hold. “But why is Lord Crimsonale still insisting on moving south when Harrivee’s field is showing signs of life? Don’t they know that whatever I’m doing is working?”
The prince’s eyes darkened, those sapphire blue irises like a raging storm. “They don’t know yet, Ilara. I was waiting to tell them. If this field also shows signs of life, then I’ll reveal what we’re trying to the council. Until then, I don’t want anyone’s eyes on you.”
An ominous shiver ran through me, and not for the first time, I thought about what had occurred within the castle’s walls—the fae who’d gone missing. The ones who’d disappeared without a trace. They’d all been actively involved in the diminishing orem, either talking about it or trying to raise the alarm. None of them had ever been found.
And now I had dove headfirst into that very problem, a problem that had put targets on the missing fae’s backs.
“Up you go, now!” Matron Olsander said shrewdly as I balked at returning to the balance beam. It stood nearly twenty feet in the air, yet from the floor, it looked like an imposing cliff.
I swallowed the hesitation in my throat yet still didn’t move.
“None of this dilly dallying. Your first test will be upon us before you know it.” My tutor swatted my rump, getting a yelp out of me.
I rubbed my backside and glared at her, but she merely shooed me forward, so I reluctantly began to climb the ladder.
“You can do it, Lara!” Meegana called, an encouraging smile on her face as she watched from below.
I gave her a small nod. Cailis had confirmed following the first Trial dinner that Meegana always spoke truthfully when she addressed me. Beatrice usually did too. Because of the trust I was developing in them, both of them were becoming my friends despite the Trial requiring us to compete with one another.
As for Michas and Nuwin, Michas was surprisingly honest when he spoke, most of the time, but Cailis said at times he’d bleed gray, which was her affinity’s way of telling her he wasn’t outright lying, but he was skirting the truth.
And Nuwin . . . I nearly snorted thinking of him. He was a true trickster, oftentimes pulsing in lilac waves, indicating he was fabricating stories to elicit a response from those around him. I hadn’t been astonished in the least to learn that.
Not surprisingly, Georgyanna lied regularly, but her manipulation affinity was strong enough that even Cailis had a hard time seeing which colors she bled whenever she spoke, so Cailis and I had decided that it was best I avoid the female as much as possible.