Page 7

The proctor settles herself down on a cushion on the floor, her robes pooling gracefully around her. She gestures for me to follow suit, and I sit opposite her, crossing my legs beneath my skirts.

Because of the Lyceum’s scholarly image, I assumed my lessons would lean toward the academic side, with some practical exercises sprinkled in.

But the room Gallis has chosen is laid out more like an arena or sparring ring.

Rows of benches are stacked on one side, while the green floor is springy to the touch.

When I look closer, I see it’s covered in dense moss.

Is that for comfort or for protection? Do people often get knocked off their feet in this room?

“I imagine you’re aware a celestial twin-blessed is most unusual,” Gallis says. “In fact, we have no record of another one currently in existence.”

“Is that so?” I say, unable to keep the wry note from my voice. I’m grateful for my power, but being a solari already makes me different enough. I’m not exactly thrilled to hear I’m even more unusual than I thought. In fact, it feels…lonely.

“Tell me,” Gallis continues, “do you find you lose strength quickly when conjuring your magic? That your magic burns out, leaving you physically drained?”

I nod. “I passed out the first time I orbited something.”

“Yes, that makes sense,” she says.

“It does?”

She nods. “It comes up often in the historical records of solari with multiple abilities.”

“So it’s tied to being twin-blessed?”

“To a degree, yes. In Trova, all twin-blessed are claimed by the Temple of Ethira, is that correct?”

I remember the cleavers with a shudder. “Yes. I’ve come across some of them. Being twin-blessed didn’t slow them down.”

“Because they’re probably trained to overcome it.

You have only so much energy, and wielding different abilities uses it up faster.

My studies tell me this is particularly true of solari.

The source of our power is more directly connected to the gods—it’s purer and more unfiltered than the other three classes of power. ”

I’d not considered it before, but from her words, I now realize celestial magic must be its own entity, separate from terrial, sensic, or viatic abilities.

“That means it can overwhelm the mortal body more easily,” Gallis continues. “Building up your control and stamina is essential. The good news is if others can do it, so can you, solari or not.”

She stands, picking up her cushion and carrying it over to the benches before returning to the middle of the room.

There’s a clatter as the training room door swings open.

“Oh good, we haven’t missed anything,” Stratton says as he strides in, followed by the rest of Leon’s unit…but no Leon, I notice. He escorted me here this morning, then left without a word. Maybe all my warnings about not wanting to be around him are finally starting to sink in.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“You don’t mind if we observe, do you, proctor?” Alastor addresses Gallis rather than answering me.

“ I mind,” I say before Gallis can respond. “The last thing I need is you lot throwing me off while I try to focus.”

“Actually, it would be good for you to have an audience,” Gallis says. “There’ll most certainly come a time when you’ll need to perform under pressure. Better to prepare for that from the start.” She beckons to the other fae. “Stay.”

“Thank you, proctor,” Phaia offers as they settle themselves on the benches. Eryx still has a slight limp and so arrives there last. He eases his leg up with a groan until it lies flat on the bench.

“Anything else we can do to help, proctor? The occasional heckle, perhaps?” Stratton calls from the stands. To my horror, Gallis’s lips twitch a little in amusement.

“If you like,” she says.

Lusteris help me, Gallis has been charmed by Stratton, just like everyone else. I throw him a deadly glare, but the proctor is soon calling my attention back to her.

“Now let’s start with something relatively simple,” she says. “That cushion over there on the bench. Send it to me.”

I allow myself a small sense of relief. At least I know I can do this . I reach into myself for my magic, focusing on the one thing that has the biggest draw for me in this moment: my need to be able to make my own choices, to run my own life, free from the demands of a certain fae prince.

The cushion floats across the room, coming into my orbit. I can’t resist smiling a little, but Gallis’s expression is unchanged.

“Now send it back to the same spot, and faster this time.”

I concentrate. I’ve been this precise with smaller objects before. But while the cushion isn’t heavy, it is a little unwieldy. I have to be careful as I send it zooming back across the room.

“Again,” Gallis says. “Now in a figure eight around us.”

I exhale, but obey, sending the cushion floating in a loop around her and then me.

“ Faster ,” she orders, and I push harder with my magic, yanking on that “pull” inside of me. The cushion skids across the bench as it lands, toppling off the edge and dropping onto Eryx’s outstretched leg.

“Watch it,” he grunts. The soldiers snicker, and Damia reaches out to pick up the offending object.

“Aw, did the big bad cushion get you, Eryx?” she smirks as she tosses it back into the arena.

“You lost control,” Gallis says, raising an eyebrow at me. I suppress a huff of frustration. She’s not going to be an easy teacher. I remind myself that I don’t want easy. What I want is to get better at this as soon as possible.

“I was trying to go faster,” I explain.

“With brute force,” she replies.

I shrug, unable to argue. “When you said ‘faster,’ I pushed harder. I don’t know how else to do it.”

“His Highness has informed me of the unusual levels of power you possess,” Gallis says.

“Oh, he has, has he?” I can’t help but bristle at the idea that Leon’s been sharing all my secrets, even if by now it shouldn’t surprise me.

“Yes, because it’s relevant,” Gallis points out dryly. “With that much power, you don’t need to push anything. The challenge for you is in learning how to moderate your magic despite your natural strength.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Stratton calls to me from the stands. “Didn’t anyone tell you it’s not about the size of your power but how you use it?”

I glare at the blond fae.

“Lord Mureln is right,” Gallis says. “Now, let’s try again.”

We only practice for an hour, but it feels like a lifetime, especially when Gallis asks me to change things up and start using my sun beam power too.

I start to really feel the strain then, while switching between two powers.

It’s not as abrupt as in the mountain tunnels—where I was injured and exhausted from running for my life—but my body starts to ache, and my focus wavers.

The rabble on the benches doesn’t help. When I misfire a sun beam, singeing the floor, they start taking bets on who I’ll burn a hole in first.

I stare at the smoking black gash running through the carpet of moss, defeated.

“Don’t worry, we have a mage who grows it back good as new,” Gallis explains. She pauses, examining my face, which I know must be red and sweaty.

“Incidentally, when you reach your magic out to it, what do you feel?”

I blink at her, confused. “Feel? From the moss? Nothing. My magic can’t interact with it; I’m not a geostri.”

“No, you’re not,” she says, looking thoughtful. “But after all, all life starts with a celestial spark. His Highness and I have been discussing certain old theories regarding the connection a solari can make with living things. It’s something I think we should explore.”

I’m about to ask her what she means, but there’s a sudden shift in the energy of the soldiers that makes me follow their eyes to the door. Leon’s there, leaning against the frame. As always, he’s managing to pull off princely grace despite his intimidating physical presence.

“Let’s leave it there for today,” the proctor says. “After all, you have other lessons to learn, and I have other duties to attend to.”

I’m still not sure what she meant about the moss, but now doesn’t seem to be the time to ask. I’m more focused on the way that, as she leaves, she stops by the door to murmur to Leon, and then both of them glance my way.

More secrets. Great.

“Alright,” Leon says, clapping his hands together and nodding at his soldiers. “Now it’s your turn.”

“Their turn for what?” I ask.

“To play,” Damia says. She may be a snake speaker, but her grin is nothing short of wolfish.

“You want to learn how to protect yourself against sensic magic,” Leon says. “They’re going to help you. You’ve got to get hit with it to learn how to block it, after all.”

Suddenly nervous, I stare at the group of soldiers.

“Relax,” Alastor says. “It’s only in your head.”