Page 92 of Lady for Embers

One particular afternoon he had been sent there for being obnoxious during his lessons. He’d been seven and had been summoned in from outside to complete his afternoon studies. His private teachers had tried for nearly an hour to get him to cooperate before they summoned his father— who had given him the option of spending the rest of the day helping Beatrix or helping in the kitchens. It had been an easy choice. The one and only time he’d chosen the kitchens, the lead cook had made him scrub every pot and pan twice to make sure they were properly cleaned. He hadn’t been served dinner until all the dishes were cleaned. It had been well into the night.

“Why does it matter, Lady Beatrix?” he whined, plucking petalsfrom the?owersshe’d pushed his way when he’d clamored up onto the stool at her work surface.

“That is a big question for a small child,” the Healer replied, tapping his hand in disapproval when he ripped a petal off too harshly and it tore down the middle.

“I am not a small child,” he cried indignantly, slowing down to make sure he did not ruin any more of the pink petals.

“Only a small child would throw a?tover learning. A small child does not yet understand what a gift knowledge is,” she said, nodding when he looked up, seeking approval at his newly plucked petals.

“It is not a gift. It is boring,” he groused, picking up the next?ower.

“Knowledge is not boring, young prince. Knowledge can make you powerful.”

He scoffed. “How can knowledge be powerful?”

She plucked the ?ower he was working on from his hand. Pulling a small knife from a basket on the table, she cut a thin line down the entire length of the stem, liquid seeping out and dripping onto the table. “Do you know how to collect the life-force of this plant? How to bottle it? Use it to heal or to harm?”

Sorin shook his head, watching it drip to the table.

“I have that knowledge,” she continued. “Does that not make me powerful? That I can use that knowledge to heal someone or end their life?”

“That is not power, Lady Beatrix,” Sorin argued, watching as she used a dropper to move the liquid into a vial. “My father’s?reis power.”

“And when I tell you I have knowledge that could keep your father from his ?ames? Then who is more powerful?”

Sorin frowned. “You cannot do that.”

“Iwillnot do that,” she corrected. “That does not mean I cannot.”

“Then why don’t you?” he asked, leaning forward to peer into the cauldron that was bubbling on the table.

“For many reasons, but for the sake of simplicity, your father has knowledge that would protect him.”

“So heismore powerful,” Sorin said, his brow furrowing as he tried to understand.

“Power is a matter of perspective, young prince. Much like history and truth,” she answered. “Power is knowing when and how to wield the knowledge you possess, but if you do not have any knowledge, then you are powerless. Do you wish to be a powerless prince when you rule this Court?”

“No,” Sorin answered quickly.

“Then what must you do?” she pressed, tapping the table by the?owers.

Sorin sat back, picking up a yellow blossom and resuming plucking the petals. He sighed. “Pay attention during my studies.”

“Yes... and no.”

“No?” he asked, ?ngers stilling on a petal.

“You should always seek any knowledge you can, Sorin, but there is not enough time to learn everything there is to know, even in our seemingly extensive years. So you also seek out those who possess knowledge you do not,” she answered, handing him small satchels to ?ll with the petals.

“That is why you work for my father?”

“We work together,” Beatrix countered. “We share our knowledge with each other.”

“But you answer to my father.”

“Do I?” When Sorin’s brow bunched in confusion at her response, she said, “Knowledge can be power, and it can also be a curse. Sometimes, young prince, it is best not to seek knowledge until you are ready to bear the weight of what you will learn.”

As he got older, he’d ?nd himself making sure he set aside time in his week to spend time in her alchemy room with her. Hisstudies got more intense, his magic training became rigorous. His physical training became grueling, and he began traveling more. But when he would return home, he would ?nd himself wandering into her alchemy room. She was always there, as if she were waiting for him, even in the middle of the night. It wasn’t until he was in his adolescent years that he realized she had more gifts of the sight than she let on.

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