Rebel Spring

But to her recollection, he’d never been cruel to her. Only kind. Only encouraging.

“Thank you, Father.” She sat up, ignoring the dizziness that came from such a sudden movement, and embraced him. He was the strength she needed today.

“Of course, my child.” He patted her cheek. “Now, I must make the journey to the temple. I only wish you could be there today, but it’s best that you rest.”

The temple. The wedding. “Father . . . Magnus doesn’t want to marry the princess.”

“But he will. Despite any initial protests, Magnus always does exactly what I tell him to do.” He studied her face. “In part, I did this for you, you know.”

She frowned. “For me?”

“I know how Magnus feels about you.”

Shame swelled inside of her and her cheeks warmed. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You needn’t say anything. It’s not your fault. It’s his. It’s a shameful weakness on his part that he can’t seem to control—and I can’t allow it to continue.”

“And you think forcing him into a marriage with Princess Cleiona will make him feel differently?”

“If nothing else, it’ll be a distraction. And they’ll be leaving at first light for their wedding tour, which will give you the time to fully focus on your magic and not worry about your brother’s unrequited love.” He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t share Magnus’s feelings, do you? While I don’t approve of the desire he harbors for you, if you felt the same for him—that would change everything.”

Her face heated even more. “No, I don’t. And I never will. The way he looks at me . . . I wish I knew what to say to him—to make him forget such unwelcome thoughts.”

The king turned his head slightly. “You know how I feel about eavesdroppers, my son.”

Lucia was confused by his words until she looked past the king to see that Magnus stood in the doorway to the room. Her heart sank. How much had he heard?

“Apologies, Father. I only came to say farewell to my sister.” Magnus’s flat gaze moved to her.

“Magnus . . .” she began, but he turned and left without another word.

The king’s attention returned to Lucia as she settled back down upon her pillows, her stomach now a hard, twisted knot. She’d hurt Magnus with her unthinking words.

She seemed to always be hurting him.

“It’s for the best,” the king said. “Everything turns out the way it was meant to in the end.”

“Of course,” she whispered.

When he left for the wedding, Lucia was all alone with her thoughts and regrets until the elementia tutor arrived much later.

Her name was Domitia, a witch who lived in a village a few hours from the City of Gold. She had a bright smile, long, strawcolored hair, and fine lines around her green eyes. She coaxed Lucia out of the bed slowly, and soon the dizziness faded and strength returned. The sleeping potion had finally left her system, the weariness dissipated, and Lucia felt ready to learn more about her magic from a knowledgeable tutor.

“I’m so pleased to be able to assist you!” Domitia said—no, gushed. “The king was very wise in choosing me.”

If the king did not find a specific use for a woman accused of witchcraft—be it in Limeros, or now here in Auranos—they faced a death sentence. Domitia quickly explained that she’d been captured in a recent sweep by guards, based on local rumors about her talents. Luckily for her, the king was searching for a suitable elementia tutor for his daughter and had freed her from the dungeons.

No wonder the woman’s demeanor was so cloyingly chipper.

“Let’s start with something simple, shall we?” Domitia said. “I’d like you to concentrate on these candles and light them one by one. I’ve been told you have a strong hold on fire magic.”

The witch had lined up ten candles of differing heights and thicknesses on a nearby table.

“You could say that.”

The witch had no idea Lucia was a prophesied sorceress. For all she knew, the king’s daughter was just another common witch saved from the dungeons by only her royal status.

“I can do fire magic myself. Allow me to demonstrate.” The witch’s forehead wrinkled as she studied the bare wicks of the candles. It was an amusing sight as she strained, her face scrunching with effort as if she was seated upon a chamber pot.

Lucia kept watching. One of the wicks began to glow. The witch’s breath came quicker and a thin layer of perspiration appeared on her forehead. Finally, a small flame danced upon the first candle.

Domitia exhaled shakily. “See? It can be done.”

“Very impressive,” Lucia said, even though a prickly impatience had now taken seed beneath her skin.

The witch nodded to acknowledge the magnitude of what she’d done. “It’s your turn, princess.”

Lucia’s gaze lingered on the unlit candles. “Do you know anything about prophecies, Domitia?”

“Prophecies, your grace?”

“Those pertaining to elementia.”

Domitia pursed her lips as her expression grew thoughtful. “Of course, there are many rumors of such things. It’s difficult to piece together what is real from what is false.”

Lucia had to determine if this woman was of any true worth to her. Alexius was gone and, while she hoped he would soon visit her dreams as he’d promised, she had to look for other answers. She required a skilled guide with knowledge of what she was and what she could do.