“I’ll think about it,” she finally said.
He nodded tightly. “Thank you.”
They walked again.
This time the silence was both not companiable and somehow more intensely awkward.
Liris felt that was unfair—surely not every social interaction deserved to feel awkward.
“What I was going to say,” Vhannor finally broke the silence, “is that while encouraging you toward research seems like the obvious path, especially given your unique knowledge of Thyrasel, you’re so good under pressure it seems like a waste to keep you back from the field.”
Liris stumbled.
“Do you want to be a researcher and don’t want to sway me, or do you not want to? At this point you could persuade me either way, but to do so you’re going to have to say whatever you’re thinking out loud.”
Liris took a breath. So far he’d helped her every time he could. Maybe he’d guessed what made her freeze. Maybe this was a long setup for a later betrayal. But maybe it wasn’t.
Maybe she could test him.
“Then I’ll be honest,” Liris said.
“I’d appreciate it,” he said with unexpected fervor.
“Since the moment you implied all I’d have to look forward to is research, I’ve been thinking about how I can leverage my skills to do literally anything else.”
Vhannor let out a crack of laughter, which at any other time she’d have reveled in.
But Liris wasn’t laughing.
“It’s true I’m good at learning,” Liris said, “I’m frankly excellent. But what I want, what I have always wanted, was to be out in the world, using all my knowledge to make the world better for the people who live in it. Becoming an ambassador was the only way I knew to leave Serenthuar. I understand there will be studying involved, and I don’t begrudge that—I enjoy learning. As long as that’s not all I do. In Serenthuar every choice was a test was a battle, and after spending twenty years trapped in it, I will never be able to look on a life of research as anything other than a trap. That is the honest truth.”
Leaves crunched beneath their feet in the silence that followed.
“At first,” Vhannor said, “I thought it was your focus that made you adapt so well, in battle and out of it. Then you explained your training, and I thought it was your expectations—your lack of them, and that you always expected to learn new ways. But it’s that you’re always ready for battle, isn’t it? That’s why nothing flaps you.”
Liris shrugged. “I suppose that’s a fair characterization, yes.”
“A harsh way to live.”
She frowned at his back. “Is that so different from you?”
Vhannor fell silent. After a long moment he said, “No. So I’m no model of how else to be. But I will endeavor not to make your life in Embhullor feel like a trap. If you want to be in the field, you’ll still have to do some coursework. I can’t change the fact that you don’t have a license.”
Liris dared, “I hear an implicit ‘but’.”
His lips curved upward slyly, and Liris’ heart thumped when he looked over his shoulder at her. “I can get you a head start.”
“Autocracy,” Liris muttered, even as her spirits lifted.
“Oh, even worse.” Vhannor actually grinned, and this time she enjoyed that expression, just for her, way too much. “Schoolwork.”
By the time they arrived in Embhullor, Vhannor had answered her initial spellcraft questions and a lot more besides.
They’d taken a train, passed through two Gates in one day, and spent hours and hours hiking. Liris wasn’t conditioned for this, but she knew how closely Vhannor watched her by how he knew when she needed rest without her actually saying so.
He kept looking at her strangely, like he was waiting for her drive for learning magic to burn itself out. It wouldn’t. Liris absorbed all the information like a fish that had finally found water and couldn’t wait to swim.
Liris couldn’t get enough. Of magic, of the world. Of him.