Page 52 of Stolen Magic

I hesitated a moment before walking away. There was a risk he might detect the potion. I debated casting a concealing charm, but any trace of magic would be more detectable than the brew itself. If I wanted to outwit him, I had to rely on something more unpredictable than power: instinct. He had made his move by confronting me, now it was my turn to respond to his challenge.

After all, what was revenge without a little risk? All I had left to do was wait.

I sent Myst to follow the royal mage’s movements; she slipped through the court’s shadows, silent and unseen. I passed the long hours seated by the open window; the fresh breeze stirred loose strands of my hair but did nothing to dispel the scent of herbs still clinging to my skin. Faint smudges of powderedwillowshadestained my fingertips like guilt that wouldn’t wash away.

It wasn’t until near dawn that the click of claws across the floor roused me, signifying Myst’s return. Her silver gaze met mine, calm but sharp:the deed is done.

Later, I would hear whispers from passing servants: the court’s magical advisor had collapsed mid-consultation in his study. Pale and disoriented, he’d been carried to the infirmary muttering nonsense, his strength all but drained. No one dared suggest foul play aloud, but the event had unsettled the court.

But moments after the event had transpired was my chance.

When I’d brewed the draught, my intention hadn’t just been to remove an enemy…but to create an opening to discover what secrets he kept hidden behind his locked door and enchanted wards.

With a single, deliberate tilt of her head, Myst beckoned me to follow. The palace was quieter at this hour, the sconces along the stone halls casting flickering shadows. I kept to the side corridors, my slippered feet making little sound against the stones.

Myst padded ahead, her paws whisper-soft, and stopped just outside the door I’d been seeking: the advisor’s private chamber. I crept closer, heart hammering. My hand hovered above the knob, but stilled at the first brush of magic against my skin.

Wards pricked my fingers in warning—not crude, easily breakable charms meant to deter servants or curious apprentices; this enchantment thrummed like coiled lightning beneath my palm—ancient, complex, and dangerous. These weren’t meant to just repel intruders, but were built to punish them.

With my rudimentary training in ward-breaking, one wrong move meant I likely wouldn’t survive whatever trap lay in wait. Despite my small victory, the royal mage’s countermove would protect whatever secrets he guarded just beyond the door, remaining out of reach.

Disheartened, my arm fell limply to my side. I hadn’t expected it to be easy, but it still stung to fail when I’d come so close. But I hadn’t come this far to give up completely.

Don’t, Myst warned.It’s too risky.

I knew she was right, but I didn’t care. While my mother’s magic had been discovered elsewhere in the palace, I had no doubt that the mage’s chambers harbored magical secrets, perhaps the answer to unlocking my mother’s hidden magic. I bit my lip as I glanced up and down the empty corridor. The guards had rotated, the nearest posted two corridors down, enough distance to give me, at best, a minute. Maybe two.

I crouched low and whispered a charm of unweaving, one I’d used to dismantle simple magical locks in the past,an untraceable and nonaggressive beginner’s spell unlikely to trigger a defense. The air around the door shimmered faintly, and for a moment I dared to hope…then a soft pulse of resistance rippled through the wood before the spell dissolved like mist.

I swore under my breath and leaned against the cold stone wall, considering my next move. There had to be another way, and I would find it. The man who had murdered my mother wouldn’t keep his secrets forever.

A sudden chill prickled the back of my neck, alerting me to an unexpected presence behind me. “Strange hour for a walk, isn’t it?”

The quietly dangerous voice was frighteningly familiar. For a breathless moment, I thought the royal mage had somehow countered my attack and been summoned by the disturbance. But when I slowly turned, the man I encountered waiting behind me instead was far worse. Dread curled my gut.

The King of Eldoria.

The man who had ordered my mother’s execution stood cloaked in shadow, his mantle of dark velvet catching the glow of the torchlight. Every inch of him radiated control and power. There was no malice in his expression, but the calculated suspicion was far worse, his appraising gaze fixed directly on me like a man inspecting a blade he suspected to be poisoned.

Fear seized my breath, rendering words impossible…though I knew no excuse would save me. The king regarded me with the patience of a predator, savoring the moment before the kill.

I swallowed hard and finally found my voice. “Apologies, Your Majesty.” I dipped a curtsy so quickly my knees wobbled. “I wasn’t aware this part of the palace was restricted.”

The glint in his dark eyes grew more dangerous. “But now youareaware that it is restricted?”

My heart seized. I opened my mouth, but no sound emerged. His lips curled in triumph.

“Few are bold enough to wander near the court mage’s chambers. Fewer still would linger so soon after his…unexpectedillness.” His gaze shifted to the sealed door, then back to me. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

I couldn’t breathe. My mind scrambled for a plausible lie, any escape, but there was none. This was it: my vengeance would end in failure, and my mother’s fate would become mine. I closed my eyes, bracing for the inevitable—first imprisonment, then questioning, and quite likely eventual execution…but all I could feel was regret for the life I might have had, had I chosen a different path.

Footsteps echoed behind us, and before I even looked, my heart recognized my rescuer: Callan. His calm voice cut through the tension. “There you are.”

I turned, stunned. He strode towards us with that practiced ease I’d come to recognize, princely poise that masked purposeful urgency.

“I’d hoped to catch you earlier,” he said to me with a courteous nod. “I thought we might watch the stars before they fade; the sunrise will begin soon.”

The king’s attention remained fixed on me. Only after a long pause did he finally shift his attention to his son. “At this hour?”

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