Page 29 of The Prince's Curse

“Please, Your Highness, just until the Summit. I suspect you may be pleasantly surprised. I learned much from practicing with my peers at the Arcanum.”

Stifling his complaints, Haldric inclined his head. “Of course, Grand Magus. I will do my best.”

It’s only another five weeks until the Provincial Council meets,Haldric consoled himself as he exited the tower, leavingDexil to his work.And who knows—maybe by then the Grand Magus will have found a more suitable apprentice.

The next few weeks passed all too quickly. Haldric’s days remained as packed as ever, practicing his swordplay with Marshal Fendrel and attending to his other lessons with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

Every new morning brought him one day closer to the Provincial Council’s arrival. A gnawing worry grew in his gut that he couldn’t seem to dispel. His father would be relying on him to hold his own against the other governors, and Haldric felt increasingly certain he’d let him down.

After how their first session together had ended, Haldric had expected his bi-weekly practice sessions with Benjin to be yet another source of stress. But to his surprise they proved, if not exactly enjoyable, then at least bearable.

There was something about the apprentice he found strangely compelling. Benjin was undisciplined to be sure and liable to take offense to even the smallest perceived slight. Yet in a strange way, their sessions offered Haldric a reprieve from the rest of his overwhelming duties.

Everywhere else, he was the prince and heir with the weight of the kingdom resting on his incompetent shoulders. But in that sitting room, he could let his mask slip a little and pretend he was just a boy again, studying runeflame for the sheer joy of it.

Benjin didn’t have any lofty expectations of him because he was a prince. If anything, Benjin seemed to resent his title and look down upon it. And while Haldric still sometimes found himself yearning to slap the insolent brat, it was also refreshing to feel like there was someone who didn’t expect anything from him due to his impending crown.

Perhaps there was hope for Dexil’s unorthodox apprentice yet.

“You’re still doing it wrong,” Haldric sighed. Ignoring the light brush of Benjin’s shoulder against his arm, he leaned in and gestured to the rune scribbled on the parchment. “Those lines are too close together, and the tip of the bottom line doesn’t curve inward enough.”

“It looks exactly the same as yours,” Benjin said.

Haldric shook his head, exasperated. “No. It doesn’t. If you’d just properly apply yourself, then you’d have gotten it by now.”

“Iamapplying myself. Though it would be a lot easier if you’d stop hovering.” Benjin slumped back in his chair and stretched. When Haldric caught himself tracking the lithe movement, he jerked his gaze away. Benjin continued, “Plus, I still don’t see why I need to memorize all these runes before we practice more spells. Hand gestures can achieve the same effect with far less precision.”

“Which is why we’re starting with the runes first,” Haldric said. “Otherwise, you’ll enforce bad habits and sloppy spellcraft. Now, pay attention, and you might actually learn something. Here, let me demonstrate again.”

Haldric reached for the quill. Instead of handing it over, Benjin tossed it atop the parchment and stood. Haldric scowled at the fresh ink bleeding into the paper and marring the runes etched there. “Be careful!”

“Goddess’ mercy,” Benjin said, spinning on him. “Can you at leasttryto set aside your superiority complex and your hatred of lowborns for onesecond?Believe me, I don’t want to be here any more than you do. But this is the task the Grand Magus set for us, so I intend to see it through.”

Haldric blinked, his usual mask of calm slipping before his shock. “What in the name of the Goddess are you talking about? I have nothing against lowborns.”

Benjin snorted, rolling his eyes. “Of course not, Your Highness.”He managed a mocking bow. “My humblest apologies.”

Forcing down his anger, Haldric said, “If anything, it seems to me likeyouhave a problem with nobles. Ever since you first saw me in Dexil’s chambers, it’s as if you’ve been looking for any excuse to hate me.”

“I don’t need an excuse,” Benjin snapped. That gave Haldric pause. Before he could question it, however, Benjin turned away. “Let’s just get back to work.” He settled back into his seat and picked up the discarded quill.

Haldric watched Benjin resume copying the runes Haldric had shown him, silently replaying Benjin’s accusations in his head.

“The Grand Magus is lowborn,” he said, earning a surprised glance from Benjin. “And I have nothing but the utmost respect for him. It’s the actions and achievements of a person that define them, not the circumstances of their birth.”

Benjin arched an eyebrow, and Haldric found himself momentarily captivated by the shimmering gray depths of his eyes. “So, you’re telling me that if a maid and a lord both came to you, begging your attention, you’d treat them the same? Give both their statements equal weight?”

Haldric hesitated, and Benjin shook his head, returning his attention to his parchment. “That’s what I thought.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” Haldric said after a moment’s consideration, relishing the startled look that flashed across Benjin’s face. “Perhaps it’s a failing I need to work on.”

Benjin recovered quickly, his expression turning mocking. “What’s this? The vaunted prince admitting he might be fallible? My ears must deceive me.”

Though it wasn’t much different from the countless other jibes Benjin had thrown at him, something about the words cut moredeeply, lodging in Haldric’s chest. He couldn’t help but think of Melisie, and just how inadequate he’d proven at filling her shoes.

Perhaps he’d have been happier as a lowborn, living in a small hut in some unimportant village somewhere. But alas, he’d been cursed to be born a prince.

He cleared his throat. “Enough banter. Focus on your runes.”

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