Page 49 of The Prince's Curse

Percival himself was a deeply serious man. His balding head gleamed in the bright light of dawnflame-infused torches as he accepted the package Benjin had come to deliver. Like Dexil, he bore the silver mark of the Arcanum upon his neck. Setting the package on his desk, he carefully unwrapped it, his fingers flaring with runeflame as he examined the vials and papers within.

Benjin strode over to one of the contraptions he didn’t recognize. It resembled a glass sphere inlaid with thin wires of obsidian. “What’s this for?” he asked, peering at it from every angle. “It doesn’t feel attuned to runeflame.”

“That’s because it’s not.” Percival didn’t look up from the Grand Magus’ missive. “It’s for containing and focusingdawnflame. See that receptacle there? You can adjust that to control the flow of dawnflame out of it.”

Examining the object, Benjin spotted what Percival meant. It took a moment for the mage’s words to sink in. “Hold on. Are you saying you can channel both dawnflameandruneflame?”

Percival glanced up just long enough to fix Benjin with a disdainful look. “Has Dexil been neglecting your training, boy? No one can channel two types of magic at once. I’m no exception.”

Benjin flushed. “Then, why have this equipment if you can’t even use it?”

“Didn’t say I couldn’t use it—just that I couldn’tchannelit.” Percival finished with the papers and slid them aside, turning his attention to the vials. Benjin couldn’t tell what potions they contained, though he sensed the potency of their magic. “When I came to Khordan from the Arcanum, I sought to extend my studies into dawnflame. I wanted to better understand its innate connection.”

Benjin frowned. “What connection?”

“Both dawnflame and duskflame were created by a combination of runeflame, lifeflame, and soulflame to defend us from the Void,” Percival said absently, still studying the vials. “That implies an inherent connection between them. Just because I’m incapable of channeling dawnflame myself doesn’t mean I can’t learn from those who do and apply their magic to new discoveries.”

Benjin supposed that made sense, no matter how complex it sounded. Working with runeflame alone was finicky enough. He could only imagine how much more precise one had to be to combine it with an entirely different source of magic without it exploding in your face like his botched potions for the Grand Magus.

“What about—?” he began, but Percival cut him off with an impatient wave of his hand.

“Leave me be, boy. I need to concentrate.”

Tamping down his annoyance, Benjin did as the mage requested, watching curiously as Percival examined each vial the Grand Magus had provided before carefully setting them aside. Once he’d worked his way through all of them, he shuffled over to a cabinet and extracted a parcel of his own, shoving it into Benjin’s hands.

“Tell your master those samples he provided should suffice for now, but I expect him to make good on the rest of his promise soon. And be careful with that!” he snapped as Benjin shoved the parcel into his knapsack. “That work is highly delicate. It took me nearly a year to perfect, and I won’t be held liable if you have a mishap on the road.”

Benjin forced the barest hint of a bow. “I’ll be careful. And I’ll relay your message to the Grand Magus.”

With that, he fled the workshop before the crusty old mage could shout any more orders at him. Thank the Goddess his own master was far more patient.

He made a quick pit stop by his room after flagging down a servant and deposited his knapsack there, resisting the urge to open it and study its contents. Dexil might be lenient, but that’s didn’t mean he’d appreciate Benjin’s curiosity. Besides, Percival’s dire warning about upsetting its contents still rang in his ears.

Settling down at the chamber’s simple writing desk, he tried to practice some of the latest runes Haldric had shown him on the road but found his mind wandering. How had the prince’s first meeting with Lady Katalin gone?

Not that Benjin had any vested interest in the outcome. He was simply curious—for the good of Ilthabard, and all that.

After a time, he sighed and shoved his parchment aside. His rune practice had amounted to mostly useless scribbles. Too restless to sit still, he slipped out of his room and had another servant direct him to Haldric’s suite. He rapped on the door several times without an answer before giving up.

He must still be with the princess.

The thought left Benjin ill at ease even as he chided himself for how obvious it was in retrospect. OfcourseHaldric would be out wooing his bride-to-be…although given the politics underlying the whole thing, there was likely minimal wooing required. This was more akin to a business transaction than a true romance.

Thinking about what Haldric and the princess might be up to set Benjin’s face ablaze. He hurried down the corridor, desperate to outrun the conjured images. Why did he even care? Clearly, he’d spent too much time alone with Haldric this past week and it had him all muddled.

He still had a couple hours until he was supposed to attend dinner with Lord and Lady Galax, so he decided to wander the manor to distract himself from things that were none of his concern. This was the first time he’d traveled more than a day from Revesole since he was a boy, and he marveled at the unfamiliar clothing and decorations on display. Even if the stares from that pair of Order paladins left him feeling judged for all his potential sins.

Eventually, he found himself outside in a garden lined with thick hedges. Now that the sun was beginning to fade, the heat felt a bit more bearable. Still, House Galax must’ve had at least one druid on retainer to keep their plants looking so green and healthy in this arid climate.

He was admiring a spread of daffodils embedded in the side of a hedge when he turned a corner and suddenly found himself face to face with Haldric and a woman he didn’t recognize.Haldric’s eyes widened when he spotted Benjin, something that might’ve been alarm flashing in his brilliant green gaze.

While Haldric stared dumbfounded at Benjin, the woman with him smiled and stepped forward. “You must be Benjin, the apprentice mage. It’s good to meet you.”

She offered her left hand. It was only then that Benjin realized Haldric held her right firmly in his grasp. “And you must be the princess,” Benjin blurted.

A blush coated his cheeks at her tinkling laugh as she gripped his hand and shook it. “Close enough. Here in Khordan, we have no true royalty. My proper title would be Lady Katalin Galax, but you can call me Katalin.”

“Nice to meet you, Katalin.”

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