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“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.

“Oh look, there’s Constantinos.”

I snap my gaze across the courtyard to Quin’s stubborn cheekbones and poise. The sight is a slice of light cutting through the dimness of the garden, enough to make me blink.He’s not just Quin. Not just Nicostratus’s brother.

He is the king.

My shield jerks and expands with vines of shimmery blue roses, then fires out in a multiplying boom into the courtyard.

Nicostratus steers my hands and helps me rein it in. “I’m perhaps not the best person to practice with in this instance. Constantinos!”

I drop my shield and the roses burst into petals that disappear in a waft of perfume as they hit the ground. I palm Nicostratus’s knuckles at my stomach, my palms sweaty as I clutch him tight. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

I dare another glance at this new figure before me and murmur under my tongue, “It looks like he’ll use the opportunity to kill me.”

Nicostratus’s laughter is as genuine as he is. “He’ll do no such thing.”

Across the courtyard, Quin raises a daring brow.