Page 51 of Forged in Flame and Shadow

As he obeys, my grandfather gives me a withering stare before turning to speak to Ana.

“Now, it seems you have passed the test, Princess Morgana. Your skills are certainly unusual. Enough that I would agree to proceed with your proposal.”

Relief floods through me.

“I’m pleased to hear it,” Ana says, her eyes flicking to me and then Velrir. I instantly know what she’s thinking and hurry to take my cue.

“What happened when the spider collapsed the second time?” I ask. “Things seemed to be going well until then.”

A rustle of heads turn toward me. The king’s nobles want to know the answer to that too.

“I hesitate to suggest such a thing,” Ana says, playing the part of diplomat well, “but I’m sure I felt the force of terrial magic at work on the aisthekis, some kind of aesteri magic conjuring cold air. I suspect it was an attempt to make me fail the test.”

“A very serious accusation indeed,” my grandfather says, his expression tightening minutely. I can see it clicking into place for the others: the strange setback in Ana’s magic, the sword flying through a crowd to cause distraction.

I clear my throat, ready to sow more chaos.

“Isn’t thatyourterrial power, Velrir? Cold air?”

If my grandfather’s guard dog could harm me just with the force of his glare, I’d be dead right now.

“It is,” he says. “Though it’s not a unique ability among aesteri.”

“Of course,” I reply lightly.

“Surely you’re not suggesting Velrir had something to do with the sabotage, Leonidas?” Every one of grandfather’s words sounds like a warning.

“I don’t know,” I say. “But we can just ask Alastor here to clarify the truth, and then we can put this whole thing to bed.”

Grandfather’s expression is still locked down, but there’s undeniable coldness in his eyes when he looks at my friend. He’s always resented that Alastor wanted to stay in my unit rather than join his menagerie of powerful sensic casters. He covets myfriend’s power, but the Gyrions are one of the most influential families in Filusia, and even he’d look bad forcing their son into a post he didn’t want.

“That won’t be necessary,” my grandfather says flatly, looking to Velrir. “Just be honest, Velrir. Did you tamper with the test?”

Velrir’s eyes flick between us, his face coloring. I grin. There’s little I enjoy more than watching him turn beetroot as he squirms.

“It was…an accident, Your Majesty.”

Someone in my unit snorts.

“Is that so,” my grandfather says, deeply unimpressed. There’s a long silence as he seems to weigh exactly how to deal with this. “In that case, you are dismissed for the day, Velrir. We will discuss this later.”

Velrir can only look silently enraged as he sketches a bow and retreats from the gallery. I try to read my grandfather’s expression, but I have no idea whether he was behind Velrir’s plan or whether this was Velrir taking initiative. I suppose I’ll have to see how badly the captain is punished.

A dryad appears in the gallery wing, and I beckon them forward. My grandfather notices, using the moment to skillfully brush the Velrir incident aside.

“Ah, here is your healer, princess. I must suggest you go and rest now. You’ll want to regain your strength before you attempt any more complicated magic.”

He has a point—sheshouldrest and heal before trying to revive Fairon.

“In the meantime, you are an official guest of this court.” He opens his arms wide, as if offering the most generous of invitations, and smiles.

She returns his smile. “Thank you, Your Majesty, that is very kind of you. I wonder, may I ask for one small token as a welcome present?”

My grandfather looks surprised but not displeased. In fact, I think he’s intrigued by her audacity.

“Of course, if it is in my power to give,” he says.

“I would like to keep the korigos used as bait in the trial,” she says.

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