Page 2 of A Witch and Her Dragon
Warmest regards,
Headmistress Lysandra Moonhart
Coven Crest Academy
Before Ms. Fairhaven can ask me what it says, I scream and throw myself at her, wrapping her in my arms. Yuki yips in surprise.
“I got in! They accepted me!”
Laughing, she wiggles her arms free of my grasp to return the embrace. “Of course they did, Your Highness.”
I pull back and arch a brow at her. “You think it’s only because of Grandfather?”
Ms. Fairhaven shakes her head. The thin strands of gray in her upswept brown hair shine in the sun. “No, Your Highness. It’s because you’re an incredibly talented witch.” She squeezes my arms. “They would be foolish not to accept you, regardless of your lineage.”
Warmth swims in my chest, and I clutch the letter to my breast.
Then my stomach falls. Because I still haven’t asked Grandfather if I can go. I didn’t even tell him I applied. I figured it would be better to ask him if I could attendaftergetting accepted—more granddaughter leverage that way.
My gaze shifts upward, toward the soaring towers of Ravenscroft Castle, and homes in on Grandfather’s study, at the very tip of the tallest spire. The purple flags atop the castle flutter in the wind, and the hundreds of windows reflect the spring sunlight.
“Well,” I say, drawing myself up despite the anxious thrumming in my chest. “I suppose now I must meet with the king.”
MS. FAIRHAVEN WISHES FOR ME to bathe before seeking an audience with my grandfather, but I don’t bother to. I pass through the large solarium, my boots clipping across the sun-warmed stone underfoot, and barely hear the burbling fountains but for the thoughts racing through my mind.
What if Grandfather says no? What if his plans for me don’t include furthering my magical education? What if he wishes for me to focus on politics instead?
Like Mother . . .
My chest pinches. If only Mother had been given the opportunity, she could likely rival the witches in Grandfather’s personal coven, the Shadowfall Court. But many years ago, when she married my father, it was considered unbecoming for a woman of the royal family to pursue anything outside of having heirs and dancing in ballrooms.
But things are different now. Times have changed—thank the goddesses. And I refuse to become just a pretty thing hanging from a prince’s arm.
No. I’m going to learn how to control my frost magic. I’m going to become the most powerful witch I can. And then I’m going to join the Shadowfall Court, like my mother always wished she could.
“Your Highness, the mud!” Ms. Fairhaven calls from behind me, snapping me out of my thoughts. “And you too, Yuki. Wipe your paws. They just polished the floors!”
Yuki lets out a snuffling laugh.
I quickly unlace my boots and tug them from my feet, then drop them beside the doors leading into the castle.Now in only my stockings, I pull the doors open, surprising the guards on the other side.
“Your Highness,” they say in tandem, bowing their armored heads.
I sweep past them, walking as fast as I can without breaking into a run. Yuki’s paws whisper along beside me, his nails clicking. We’ll need to trim them again—he hates it, though, so I’ll have to woo him with cinnamon buns and strawberry tarts.
It’s still early afternoon, so Grandfather will likely be in his study, where he prefers to spend his time when not seeing to his duties as the king of Elarwyn.
There are many,manystairs between here and Grandfather’s study. But thanks to one of the air witches in his coven, there’s a shortcut.
Feet thumping across the plush runner lining the long hallway, I move through the shafts of sunlight streaming through the high windows, then pause before the wind tunnel and turn to face Ms. Fairhaven. She’s only just catching up, and one of the kitchen maids is right on her heels, moving toward me with a tea tray held in her hands.
Perfect.
Grandfather never misses his afternoon tea and cake. This might help me butter him up.
“I’m going to speak with Grandfather alone,” I tell Ms. Fairhaven as she comes to stand before me, slightly winded from the jaunt down the halls. “And I’ll take that.”
The kitchen maid lets out a surprised breath when I place my letter upon the tray and then pluck it from her grasp.
