2

“Have you gotten around to kissing a boy yet?” Councilor Ludvig asked, and I choked on my tea.

We were sitting in one of the rooms at the Gentle Oaks in Kneave, one of the rare teahouses in Odalia where asha were acknowledged. It was a far cry from the more elaborate cha-khana found in Kion, but I liked the fewer formalities required here. Fox had gone off to train with the Odalian soldiers and I’d attended a few functions that day, choosing to spend the rest of my free time with the councilor, a veritable Isteran leader in his own right. I had expected more history lessons from him or a sharp critique on current politics. I had not expected this.

“And why, pray tell,” I managed, after wiping the spill on the table and clearing my throat, “should that be any of your business?”

Councilor Ludvig grinned, making him look younger than his seventy-odd years. “Is it wrong to inquire after my favorite student? Asha much younger than you have had more experience in romance, despite having done much less for Kion. I’ve kissed a pretty asha a time or two myself back in my prime.”

“I’m…far too busy to be thinking about that.”

“Poppycock.” The councilor tore off a piece of tanūr bread. “Balance must be struck. You are still so young, my dear, and in danger of being overworked if it were up to your asha-ka mistress. Enjoy your youth. Do not let harridans like Parmina convince you otherwise. And also,” he added, chewing thoughtfully, “I have a wonderful nephew. He is only a couple of years older than you…”

I groaned. “Thank you, Councilor, but I already have my hands full juggling relationships with people I know without adding anyone new to the mix.”

“So I presume there has been progress between you and the prince?”

“Absolutely not!” My cheeks colored. “He’s a prince! And I’m just…I’m a…”

A bone witch. Feared and hated everywhere but in Kion. And even in Kion, I frequently felt that we were entertainment first and people second.

The councilor only nodded. He’d been in politics longer than I had been alive and knew the lay of the land, so to speak. “Yet you are drawn to Prince Kance.”

“Well, he’s kind. He’s the first person besides Mykaela and my brother who does not care that I am a bone witch. And he cares for his people. Really cares, not just parrots what will appease his subjects. He’s sincere about what he believes in. And he’s very…” This was harder to admit. “He’s very nice looking in the face. But not just in the face—overall. I mean—”

He chuckled. “I get the point. But marriages between asha and royalty have happened before. Even with Dark asha. It is not so uncommon.”

“It doesn’t matter. He has enough trouble helping his father run Odalia as it is.” And there’s an azi inside my head, milord, I added silently. Everyone knows daeva are a weapon of the Faceless, and I am wielding the most dangerous of them all. I don’t want the prince involved. The shadows in my head shifted, agreeing.

“How are your friendships with the other boys in court then? Prince Khalad?”

Only Councilor Ludvig would still refer to Kance’s brother as a prince, though his heartforging abilities had put an end to his claim to the throne. Khalad and I had grown close the year I became a full-fledged asha, and no other asha had his unique ability to forge memories into heartsglass. “Pretty good,” I said, “though Khalad’s even busier with work than I am.”

“And what about Kalen?”

I stared at him, then started to laugh. “Kalen? He still hates me.”

“Hate is a strong word, Tea.”

“He does. He ignores me whenever he can, and when he can’t, he talks down to me in that infuriatingly passive-aggressive way he has. I can never do anything right, if you listened to him, and if he could sever my ties to Prince Kance, he’d do it, then expect me to kowtow to his demands without protest.”

“Have you done anything to arouse his enmity?”

“I haven’t kept my resentment hidden exactly,” I admitted sourly. “And I might have ignored his orders on occasion, on account of him being a jerk with no redeeming qualities.”

I paused. Councilor Ludvig was staring at something behind me, his expression bemused. I took a deep breath. “I suppose he’s behind me.”

“Right on the first try.” Kalen leaned against the door, hands folded across his chest. As was customary for Deathseekers, he was dressed all in black, like that was supposed to make him look more impressive. His heartsglass swung from his neck, a bright silver. He gave the Isteran politician a small, respectful nod. “Lord Ludvig, it’s good to see you again.”

“Likewise, Kalen.”

“How is King Rendorvik?”

“Refusing my advice, as he is wont to do nowadays. How are the prince and his father?”

“Doing well. Please send our regards to his Highness.” Kalen turned to me. “Kance wants to see you now,” he said shortly, then walked back out.

“I’d advise you not to get on his bad side,” Councilor Ludvig said as I rose to my feet, careful not to trip over my dress. “Kalen is Prince Kance’s closest confidante after all. Perhaps if you opened up to him, he’d relent.”

I sighed, then leaned over to give the councilor a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. “Given that his point of contention is me, I believe the point is moot.”

• • •

“Wait up!” I yelled, hurrying after Kalen as he stalked back to the castle, attracting more than a few curious stares. “I’m sorry for what I said, but I’m not the only one at fault. You’ve been nothing but rude to me since we met.”

“I have no need to explain myself to you,” he said stiffly.

“I thought we’d reached some kind of understanding.” Which was true. He’d been almost friendly in the weeks after we’d fought the azi at Lake Strypnyk, but that fragile amiability disappeared and he was back to criticizing how I fought, what I did, and what I said.

“You thought wrong.”

I glared at him. “Out with it.”

“Out with what?”

“You heard me listing what I don’t like about you. It’s not very sporting of me, I know. So now it’s your turn. Say something about me that you don’t like.”

“This is not the place or the time—”

“If you had your way, there will never be the place or the time for it because you’re as dense as a rock on Mithra’s Wall, with the immovability to match. See? It’s not that hard to share your feelings. Let it all out. Give me just three things—”

He glowered but took the bait. “You’re overconfident. It always gets you in trouble. And you’re irresponsible. You don’t think through your actions and then expect someone else to bail you out—your brother, usually. You have this annoying way of scrunching up your nose when you don’t like what you’re being told to do, which makes you look even more ridiculous.”

I clapped a hand over the bridge of my nose, suddenly aware I was doing exactly that. “Fine, you’ve said your—”

“You never listen. To anyone. You’re slow to take advice, especially at sword practice. You always think life will turn out for the better, although it never does, but that doesn’t stop you from making the same mistakes again—”

“I said three things, you lout!”

He stopped. For a moment, I thought he was going to smile. A spectrum of colors spread across his heartsglass; his initial anger was abating, giving way to amusement and grudging acceptance—and something else. But when he saw where my gaze lingered, his heartsglass turned back to its unblemished silver.

“And you’re still a danger to Kance,” he added quietly. “You can just as easily lure a daeva to him as kill it.”

“But I haven’t.”

“That doesn’t matter. I’ve seen more Dark asha than you, and they’ve all burned out sooner or later. Mykaela had to kill a fellow bone witch once because she was too far gone in the Dark. You may not have stepped over the line, but you sure as hell enjoy having the magic, and that’s even worse.” His expression was unreadable—I preferred it when he was angry. “My job is to protect Prince Kance. I train you only at Kance’s request and against my better judgment. I am not your friend. And I can’t be in a position where I treat you as one.”

So that was it. With Kalen, it would always be about his duty to the king and the prince. Which still hurt. “Fine. And I’m sorry about my previous outburst. Like you said, I don’t think things through. And whether you believe me or not, I have no intentions of harming the prince. But if we can’t be friends, can’t we at least be civil?”

His shoulders relaxed. “If that’s what you want.”

That wasn’t what I wanted at all, but I gritted my teeth and swallowed my retort. “Swell.”

“Good. Let’s move. Kance is waiting.”

I slunk quietly after him. His words stung—but I couldn’t blame him. My words probably had too.

Prince Kance was up to his ears in paperwork when we entered the room. My asha-sisters Polaire and Zoya were beside him, and all three looked up as we approached. Though Prince Kance looked tired, his features brightened. I hurriedly tucked a few stray hairs back in place, my mood lifting. While seeing Polaire hard at work came as no surprise, Zoya avoided grunt work whenever possible.

Prince Kance apologized. “I asked Kalen not to bother you if you were busy.”

“Yes, he made that very clear to me.” I glared at Kalen, who showed no shame at this concealment.

“As you know, there were reports of a daeva sighted along Odalia’s borders this week,” he began, his bright-green eyes on me. I was wrong; nice didn’t even begin to describe his face.

“An aeshma, yes,” I said.

“We’ve finally tracked it to the Kingswoods. My father gives his leave for you to hunt it down.”

“I’ll get right on it.”

“I wouldn’t think of underestimating you or any other asha, but I can bring an army. More catapults perhaps. Fortifications. It isn’t safe.”

“Your High—”

“Kance.”

“Kance.” I was pleased by his concern—for me?—but I also took in his pallor. “We’ll be fine. I’ve done this before. And you need rest. I’m sure Lady Zoya and Lady Polaire can assist you in the meantime.”

“Lady Zoya is not so sure about that,” Zoya chirped and was swiftly silenced by a stern look from Polaire.

Prince Kance smiled wanly. “Is it starting to show? I’ve been having trouble sleeping. Lady Altaecia’s made me an herbal potion for it.”

“All the more reason not to overexert yourself,” I said.

He shook his head. “I’ve been working on a new form of taxation that will lower land taxes and cut out unnecessary intermediaries. The sooner we can put that into law, the better for Odalia.”

“Shouldn’t the finance minister be overseeing that?”

“The finance minister is good at what he does, but he is also part of the problem. Most officials make concessions and exemptions to curry favor with the nobility, so their reforms impose a heavier tax burden on the poor. I convinced Father that we had to lay the groundwork ourselves to weed out claims of favoritism. With my plan, we can both help our citizens and generate more revenue in under two years. Polaire and Zoya are working with me on the details.”

Kance was perfect—intelligent, compassionate, empathic. How could anyone not like him? I snuck a glance at Kalen. He had said nothing since we’d arrived and lounged by the door like a statue ready to come to life at the first sign of danger.

“And it’s a good plan,” Polaire said with a smile, though she looked tired herself. “Our young prince is quite the genius with numbers. But Tea is right, Kance. That’s enough work for today.”

The prince made a rueful face but nodded, moving to organize his papers. I stepped closer to Polaire, remembering something Kalen had said earlier.

“Mykaela killed a Dark asha before,” I said softly and urgently, not wanting the others to hear. She had told me about that once before when she had taken me to see her raise a daeva for the first time.

Polaire raised an eyebrow. “And what of it?”

“I need to know more about what had happened.”

She sniffed. “Illara was a good girl and one of Mykaela’s charges, but she was far too ambitious for her own good. She was eager to learn of the Dark, but she didn’t realize it would burn her out. She craved the Dark beyond her own limits. She called a daeva and sought to control it instead of killing it. The daeva drove her mad—and Illara became almost like a daeva herself. Mykaela had no choice. To wield anything that the Faceless would, from the most terrible of daeva to their innocent-seeming runes…there must be no compromise.”

“Oh” was all I could say.

“To be headstrong is not a flaw, Tea. Mykaela was quite impulsive when she was younger. We all were. Why do you ask this now?”

“I was only wondering, Polaire.” Because there is an azi nesting in my brain. Did that mean I was taking in more of the Dark than I should? Would I be another bone witch casualty, another Illara?

I almost told Polaire my secret. I wanted to tell her.

But if I did, would they kill me too?

Polaire shook her head, having read the sputtering strings of color lining my heartsglass and mistaking them for lesser worries. “There is nothing to concern yourself over.”

“Is something wrong?” Prince Kance approached us, a quizzical look on his face.

“It’s nothing, Your H—Kance,” I said, moving the conversation away from my morbid thoughts. “But what does this taxation have to do with me? I have no experience with drafting laws.”

The prince blinked. “Oh. No. I asked you here for something else entirely. It’s about the aeshma. I intend to accompany you when you confront it.”

“Absolutely not!” Kalen and I exclaimed at the same time.

The prince was still smiling, but he had a determined tilt to his chin that I recognized from both his older brother and their cousin. “That’s not a request, I’m afraid. To be a ruler goes beyond lawmaking, and if there is a creature terrorizing my land, then I will not hide behind my throne like a coward. Does a departure at seven tomorrow morning sound good to you?”

There was no other choice but to agree. For all Kance’s merits, stubbornness always did run in that family.