Page 120

“Seen him? I spent the better part of three hours kicking his ass in the training ring.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“If I didn’t know firsthand how skilled he is, I might believe you. How do you not have a scratch on you?” I rose my eyebrows in disbelief.

He chuckled. “I think we parted within the hour. I came back here to wash up. Time flies in that marvelous tub.”

“Hm.” Maybe he’d made his way to the kitchens for some food after that intense workout. I knew how exhausted and hungry I’d become after training with Odion.

“Did you just get back? How’d it go?” he asked.

My finger circled the back of the sofa. “Really good.” I shuddered a laugh. “It felt like what I was doing mattered. Those people, the hope in their eyes, the access to resources I have now… Feels like everything’s falling into place, finally.”

“You’re a natural. Did it end up being mostly medicine like you thought?” He pushed off the chair, joining me in the sitting area.

“Yeah. A few things I’d heard of, but some things I hadn’t. Like, boat dock root or something.” I knew it wasn’t right, but I couldn’t recall without looking at my notes.

He smiled, “Burdock.”

I pointed a finger in his direction. “Yes! That’s it. Do you know what it’s for? I didn’t pry about their illnesses.”

He sighed, sinking into contemplation. “It’s not surprising your people might be in need of it. Highcrest is overflowing with iron. Iron affects magic, a suppressant in most cases, but too much exposure acts like a cancer to magic cells. Burdock separates the bonds that iron fuses to magic cells and flushes it from the body.”

He worked his fingers, as if holding something back. “What is it?” I asked.

“King Taja has requested a steady supply to his people. We have a lot of wild burdock in Duski, it’s our main export. I’m just, I’m torn. Rumors of Windguard’s treatment toward magically blessed have never been good. Hearing from the mouths of my own men the blatant hatred and annihilation essentially was something else, though.

“What I’m struggling with is why would a king who treats his magical population like dirt beneath his boots care for their treatment? Something about it doesn’t sit right with me, and in the quantities he’s requesting, I don’t doubt something nefarious going on. Sure, his population is massive, but not one other kingdom we trade with has requested that much.

“And of course, of course I want to offer treatment to wielders who are suffering, but that would just encourage whatever he’s doing to them. No population should require that much burdock root. If I agree, am I condoning whatever conditions he’s putting his people through? Has he found iron mines in his own land, and is using the magical population to extract it? But that doesn’t track because he’s requested increased supply from Nick. I can’t make sense of it.”

Slumping back in the chair adjacent to the couch, he rubbed his temple. “I’ve offered transport. If his citizens wish, they could board a ship and find refuge in Duski. Hell, even Nick is on board with accepting more refugees, he’s told me. I’d send a few ships a year, offer them free passage to Duski. Taja’s denied it.”

“That’s awful.” I’d barely given a thought to the magical population of Highcrest before all this. I’d thought they’d had it bad, but I had no idea things could be so much worse. I wouldn’t pretend to know the complexities of trade agreements with other kingdoms, but I could see the strain it had on Marco.

For someone who acted so unbothered and carefree, I could see the mantle this placed on his shoulders. How burdened he’d become. I had no wisdom to give, since my education didn’t extend beyond mandatory schooling. If he wanted advice on how to soak up ale spills, I’d be his girl. So I offered the only thing I could—distraction. “Is that why your hair’s white? From the stress?”

His cackle filled the room. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. That’s purely a gift of good looks, my dear.”

We laughed, taking the edge off the serious conversation. “I trust you’ll figure out the right thing to do.”

He flashed me a look that said he wished he agreed.

Muffled conversation carried through the door, followed by a knock. “Come in,” Marco said.

His guards opened the door. “Your Highness, a messenger for Lady Nora.”

One of the correspondence deliverers, Nisha, strode in, her gaze targeting me immediately and not wasting a moment. “Ma’am, I’m sorry to disturb you, but you have a visitor. She says someone very close to you, a Mr. Chol, is in danger.”

My heart became an ashy mound in my chest, incapable of beating. I sprinted out of the room.

61

Nora

Evenita had been escorted to a plush sitting room. She stood, wringing her fingers, the only time I’d ever seen her look anything but content.

“Where is he?” I asked, horror wanting to swallow the question.

“I-I can’t see much. There’s a shield. It comes in blurred visions and unclear images. I see the prince. He’s on the ground and bleeding. There are glimpses of the ocean, a view I recognize from the market. I think he’s there.”