Page 98 of The Art of Exiley

“Fishing for compliments is really not necessary when I’m clearly bestowing them freely. And you know what you look like.”

“Yes, it’s true. I’m much better looking than you.”

I don’t manage to hold back my wince, and I know he sees it because, just for a moment, he looks as if he might regret his words, but when I plaster a smile on my face, his own expression shifts into frustration.

“Why are you smiling when I’ve said something rude?” he asks, exasperated.

“It was rude but also true. And I—how can I make this clearer to you—Do. Not. Care. What. You. Think. So you can call me ugly all you want, and it doesn’t particularly bother me.” I’m proud of how confident my voice sounds.

“I didn’t say you were ugly.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not the one fishing for compliments. No need to retract your sentiment.”

He throws his hands up. “You are frightfully irritating.”

“Keep the insults coming, Your Highness.”

He shakes his head ruefully. “If it pleases you, m’lady.”

Other journeys have been meandering into the lab, their heads turning our way, clearly noticing that the bubble of frigid silence that generally surrounds our table has thawed. My neck warms at the attention.

Rafe discreetly tucks the boat away, and he spends the rest of the lab assisting Mbali in her attempt to make fingernails secrete viper venom. I test how different levels of Ha’i affect the thickness versus the length of a vine grown from a seed without sun or water. I keep my head down, ignoring the fact that everyone keeps looking between Rafe and me and whispering.

Nothing to see here.

28

“Tonight we’re going to focus on basics,” Rafe says when we meet to train later in the evening.

“Why? Haven’t I been getting better?” I ask as I kick off my shoes and twist my hair up out of my face.

“You need to learn control,” he replies. “You know how to conduct, but you need to be able to do it without thinking.”

He’s clearly just come from hoverjoust practice, so his clothes are, thankfully, less revealing than usual. But really, could those riding pants be any tighter? My arms ache from my own practice earlier in the day. I should get Rafe to also train me in how to hold a lance.

Not that lance, brain. Stop it.

“You’re getting stronger, but you’re still wildly inconsistent, and we have to get to the root of what’s preventing you from calling on your Ha’i instinctively.”

I grumble.

“Beltane is in just over a fortnight. Once I acquire the necessary supplies during the bonfire, I’m off this island whether you’re ready to come with me or not. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, yeah. I got it, Your Highness.”

“Don’t call me that. Make shiin.”

I tentatively hold out my hand in the formation.

“Now conduct.”

“Conduct what?”

“Just start with a glow.”

He holds up his own shiin and effortlessly emits a soft ball of light. Even his hand is beautiful. Fine and muscled, like a sculpture. Like theDavid’s hand.

I can usually manage a glow easily. I go through the steps in my mind like I’ve done so many times before, but nothing happens.

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