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“Interesting. What we want are curved lines that draw patterns over your skin in a way that’s unique to you.

” She brought her own magic forward and showed me.

The designs were beautiful. “It looks as though perhaps you are trying to copy what you see in others instead of thinking about your magic as its own life. You do not control your magic, Princess. You and your magic must work in tandem. Think of it as a stranger you are trying to win over. ”

“That’s okay, Princess Ripley. I did the same thing,” a small voice called out to the right of me.

I looked to see a blond boy with cute freckles dotted across his skin, a missing front tooth, and eager eyes with a dark ring around the irises. “Thanks, kid.”

Talia smiled at the interaction between us and so did the king and queen.

“How do I do that?” I posed.

“How about we all have this homework today? For ten minutes before you go to bed, I want you to sit, breathe, and listen. What is it that your magic wants? Where in your body does it rest? Does it sound like anything? What shape does it take on? What’s its temperature?”

“Cool beans, Ms. Willbe,” the class said in unison as if they had practiced it many times.

“Good. Return tomorrow with your answers. Nine in the morning.”

“Actually,” my mother blurted from the back, “tomorrow, we will be conducting a recrowning ceremony at that time.”

“Okay, then—” Talia chimed.

“The ceremony will be at ten thirty,” I corrected, glaring at my parents with narrowed eyes. Stay in control. I could feel pride for myself building in my chest and steeling my spine. I turned back to Talia and said confidently, “I will be here for class at nine in the morning.”

“Ten thirty it is then,” my father grinned.

My mother promptly pushed his arm off her shoulder and teleported away.

I looked to the king as I matched his content expression that held a bit of respect.

“Okay, class,” Talia announced, “pack up and get ready for your next class.”

The students hopped out of their desks, gathered their belongings, and headed into the building, snickering to each other and ogling at me.

The king rounded the desks and held out his elbow for me to take.

I kept my hands by my side, giving him a hard look.

He dropped his arm and scrunched his face. “Right. No physical contact.” He took a deep breath and gestured out to a long path that led from the school toward the mountains. “Right this way.”

The cobblestone path narrowed as it inclined into a beautiful, tapered passageway.

Magenta bougainvillea and vines of fuchsia petals climbed up the smooth walls of stores and hung off the arches that crossed over top them.

Rays of sunshine spilled between the arches as the path turned into wide steps.

“Thank you for giving me and your mother a chance to show you Elizy. It means a lot to us.”

The stairs were wide and flat, taking me three steps to get to the next one. I continued up the path, saying, “This isn’t a chance. It’s a bargain.”

He sighed. “I know.”

I turned to him, crossing my arms. “I will never see it any other way unless you help me get Fletcher’s magic back without strings attached.”

He pressed his thin lips together and huffed. “You are my daughter. I would fulfill any request you would have of me. And I would tell you if I knew how.”

I looked at him harshly, staring at his turned-up brows and sincere, brown eyes that were framed with graying, thick brows.

“Does the queen?”

He shrugged. “If she does, she would never tell me.”

“Well,” I turned away, “sounds like a troubling partnership,” I uttered loud enough for him to hear.

The next ten steps were silent before I heard the king say, “Fletcher is— ”

I spun, shoulder facing the king, arm flinging out toward him with fanned fingers. Deep sapphire magic swirled down my arms and brightened at my fingertips. “Say one fucking word about him. I dare you.”

The few people surrounding us stopped midstride and widened their eyes at me.

I watched the king bring up his hand, zip his lips shut, and throw away the key.

When I dropped my hand, he gestured toward the path ahead that led to the castle.

The narrow alley opened up into a square, sand-colored brick courtyard where dozens of people sold products and food out of wooden kiosks.

The king led me to a nearby stand where there was a trough of ocaberries.

He flipped a golden coin to the seller and pointed at me with this thumb.

The seller smiled then handed me a basket that fit in the palm of my hand.

“Go ahead,” the king instructed. “Fill it up.”

I held out the basket to him. “I don’t want any.”

He stuffed his hands into the pocket of his long, deep violet coat. “Then bring some to Fletcher.”

My heated gaze darted to his face. His eyes were averted to the seller and his face showed a sneaky smile that creased the laugh lines at the corner of his eyes, like he was happy that he was able to say Fletcher’s name again without pissing me off.

Then, his comment settled. He wanted me to bring some to Fletcher.

Berries that would make an Elizian’s magic stronger.

I tilted my head and narrowed my eyes at him.

Perhaps I shouldn’t have cut him off earlier when he wanted to bring Fletcher up; it may have provided more information to how he felt about Fletcher without the queen’s influence.

I huffed, trying not to think too much into it as I reached my hand to grab berries that glowed in blue rings around its navy skin.

An important sustenance for Elizians to refuel their magic.

Just as I closed my fingers around some, a tan male’s hand came into view and covered mine.

He retracted when I hauled my hand away.

Berries still in my grasp, I gently placed them in my basket and stepped away from the stranger.

I looked up to see a gentleman with ghostly white hair that fell in shiny lines to his skinny waist. His shadow covered me as he looked down his straight nose with a smirk. His eyes were extraordinarily turquoise, radiating its own light in the outline of his silhouette .

“Oh, so sorry,” he said in a higher tenor than I had expected from him. Though his tan complexion warmed his skin in golden tones, his energy emitted a frigid detachment, a callous frost that pierced the air around him.

“It’s fine.” I handed him the basket. “Take it.” I’d rather get rid of it. It probably wasn’t a good idea to be in debt to the king and queen anyway.

I watched the man’s fingers extend toward the little basket.

And when he grabbed a hold of it, only his index and thumb were able to close.

The other three digits appeared fairly dysfunctional, curved, and unable to straighten completely.

Aside from that one thing, he looked healthy and capable, perhaps even handsome to some by the way the sunlight caught the angles of his long face.

With his other crippled hand, he buried them in the pile of berries, never wavering from his eye contact with me.

His hand scooped and let more berries dribble into the basket.

“For you.” He handed the basket back to me with a glare that looked like he was devouring me.

His eyes dipped down my body, and my lip curled up with a half-lidded gaze. “Wow. Look at you. You are beautiful. ”

I scrunched my face, almost amused at his attempt to flirt with me, knowing full-well he didn’t know he’d never stand a chance against Fletcher’s sexy smolder. I took two steps back when he took one forward, hand still extended toward me.

The king cleared his throat behind me. “What are you doing, Jarvy?”

When I didn’t take the basket, Jarvy brought it back to his chest, placing his other hand in his pocket.

I narrowed my eyes between him and my father.

“Giving the lovely lady some berries.” He looked back at me. “Hi. I’m Jarvy.”

I squinted my eyes, tilted my head, and grinned. “’Kay.”

“What is your name, you opalescent goddess?”

I furrowed my brows and curled my upper lip, annoyed by the theatrical language. “Etta.”

His brows furrowed. “You certainly do not look like an Etta. Are you sure?”

Great. It sounded like my identity had already been passed along. So I looked him dead in the eyes, snatched the basket from him, and handed it to a passing child who sat on a three-wheeled stool, rolling away. The kid’s eyes widened as he yelled, “Thank you! ”

“Is the name too long for you to remember?” I turned my back to Jarvy, preparing to continue my journey through the kingdom when he caught my wrist and pulled me back to him with a grip tighter than I preferred.

My magic flared, spidering down my arms in rigid lines.

“Get off me,” I ordered through clenched teeth.

Then, the cart of ocaberries exploded into a puff of neon spores that swirled with the wind.

Berry scraps rained down on us as the seller ran over from other troughs full of goods to see what had happened.

Jarvy jumped and released me. His eyes switched from the berries back to me, his turquoise eyes drilling through me.

“But, Etta , I wish to see you again.”

I pointed my finger at the cart of exploded berries. “That will be your head if you ever touch me again.”

“But—”

“That’s enough, Jarvy!” the king bellowed, violaceous magic speeding down his hand in a repetition of geometric shapes, sending Jarvy walking in the opposite direction.

I looked at the king, curious about his geometric-patterned magic rather than the spiral curves I typically saw .

He stepped close to me and said over my shoulder, “I see your magic is still unpredictable.”

A part of me wanted to deny it. He didn’t deserve to get to know me. But, at the same time, he also may hold some much-needed answers. “Why? Why does it act like this?”

He shrugged. “Your mother and I have been researching since you were born. It still remains a mystery to us.”