Page 88

“That’s good then, isn’t it?”

Veronica sets the letter on the table. “The appointment of a general has to be made in person by the king. The high duke will use this to force Constantinos and Nicostratus south.”

I tense.

“Too much is at stake for him to get rid of them before peace is secured—he’ll use the time to assume more power here.”

“Willyoube safe?” I ask.

“My father would withdraw his troops if the duke moved against me or our son. No, this time we’re safe.” She lets out a relieved breath and grimaces, rising fast to her feet. “I must see Constantinos.”

* * *

Veronica’s foreboding clings to me like a shiver that won’t cease. All night and the following morning, I feel it. Even as the sun breaks over the royal city, I’m still shivering.

With bead-passes secured from Nicostratus, I lead my fellow mages up to the tower roof to watch the procession. The king and the prince ride at the forefront, their armour gleaming silver in the dawn light, flanked by disciplined ranks of redcloaks. The crowd below is one of cheers and fevered excitement. Even my companions mirror the mood—save Florentius. His frown carves shadows over his eyes. Like mine.

I grip the stone ledge, the cold biting into my fingers despite the rising sun. I once watched another man ride off on horseback, his cloak flaring behind him as he disappeared into the horizon. He didn’t look back, and I hadn’t known it would be the last time.

A thumping ache lodges in my chest and I shake my head. Quin is the king; Nicostratus has led men in battle before. They will return. They must.

And yet... watching them riding ahead into the distance has my stomach heaving and that ache deepening. It’s the same kind of ache that once made me search all the places Maskios and I had ever been together.

“Are you alright?” Florentius murmurs.

I let out a laugh, but I can’t speak for fear it’ll give me away. My gaze follows the procession and stays on it until the last gleam of silver armour is swallowed into the distance.

Back at the apothecary, we force ourselves to settle into the routine of our studies. Time drags; it’s over an hour before Chiron finally arrives. His grim expression silences even Mikros and Makarios, who usually can’t sit still for more than a few minutes.

“The complex-medius examination has been pulled forward,” Chiron announces without preamble, his voice as sharp as a dissection spell. “By order of the regent.”

Florentius stiffens beside me, his spine going rigid. My own stomach churns. We’re the only two who haven’t sat this examination.

“When?” My voice comes out steady, despite my shivers. “Into autumn?”

I need those months—desperately. With my performance on King’s Island counting against me already, every day of practice counts.

Chiron’s lips press into a hard line as he glances at his son. “End of the week.”

Mikros and Makarios jump to their feet, outraged on our behalf. I grow colder with every breath. We’ve barely grasped the basics of transplantation. We’re supposed to have another half year to perfect it.

A dry laugh. “The king leaves, and immediately he uses his power as regent to bring up the exam?” Florentius stares stone-faced at his father, unsurprised and disappointed. I know what he’s thinking. The rumours grow in the capital every day: one day, any par-linea could become an official mage. It’s making my throat seize up, my eyes water, my teeth grind. I only realise I’m growling when Chiron scowls in my direction.

“You were never going to succeed. This only affects my son’s prospects.”

“Father!”

“You have four days,” he snaps, directing his words to Florentius only. “Spend every waking moment perfecting your spell and show me your progress at the end of each day.” With that, he storms out.

Florentius doesn’t look at me.

A strange, heavy chuckle escapes me. “He’s right. Because of me, you have to take this examination early.”

Florentius stares grimly at our desks; I let out a frustrated breath. “Half the officials in the court were against me entering the palace. I—I was to expect I’d encounter difficulties.” I look at him. “You warned me as much that first night.”

My stomach clenches along with my throat and fists. “Look at me.”

Slowly, Florentius raises his gaze.