Page 64 of A Storm in Every Heart
I shake my head. “It’ll take too long.”
“Well then, what?—”
He stops mid-sentence, his eyes widening as my wings slowly stretch and unfurl from my back. I stretch them wide, feeling the tension release from each joint, and give them a gentle shake.
I have to go find Odessa—wherever she went. Hydratta, anywhere in Ellender, or the bottom of the fucking ocean…
KASTIAN, AGE 18
“We missed you at the race today,” Mother says over dinner.
I take a sip of my wine, feeling all eyes on me. “I went to mingle with the crowd. Isn’t that the point of these events—to get to know one another?”
Father nods, looking pleased with my response, but his is the only smile I see. Prince Thorne exchanges a dark glance with his father, King Florian, then turns to me. “I didn’t realize you were friendly with any members of our court.”
I take another sip of my wine to give myself a moment to think. “I wasn’t until today.”
Thorne and King Florian exchange another glance. It looks to me like one of those silent conversations my father and I sometimes have. The king clearly wants Thorne to do something, and Thorne is making a silent effort to resist. Heevidently loses, because he looks back at me a second time and smiles.
“I can introduce you to some of my friends tomorrow if you like. You might have more in common with them than with the, uh,lessernobility.”
I frown, but my father catches my eye and nods almost imperceptibly. I resist the urge to sigh. “Sure,” I say to Thorne. “I’d like that.”
Prince Thorne and King Florian look satisfied and go back to eating their dinner. I watch King Florian out of the corner of my eye. When he glances up, I notice that his eyes are a familiar emerald green.
A sense of satisfaction washes over me. I knew I wasn’t imagining things.
“Ithink I’ve inadvertently caused a problem,” I say, marching into Magnus’s study later that evening.
My father’s adviser is standing by his large arched window, holding a bit of parchment up to the light. At the sound of my entrance, he lowers the paper and spins to face me. “Your Highness, good evening.” He smiles. “What was that you said?”
“I think I’ve caused a problem,” I repeat, stopping in the middle of the room and crossing my arms.
Magnus steps away from the window and crosses to stand behind his heavy oak desk. “What kind of problem?”
“Did you know that King Florian has a bastard son at court?”
Magnus’s eyebrows raise. “No…well, I should say, not officially. Why?”
I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to think of the right words to describe the problem.
Normally I would go to my father with something like this, but he’s currently far too busy with the summit for such a trivial issue, and I’m sure he would somehow make this out to be my fault. Magnus isn’t my first, or even tenth choice of confidant, but he’s the only person I can think of who would be able to help me.
“I spoke at length with the son today,” I explain. “I didn’t know who he was at first, but upon a second glance, it was impossible not to see the resemblance to the king.”
“If you noticed a resemblance, then I’m sure it’s no secret. What’s the problem?”
“I think the Vernalli royals must have noticed us speaking. I’m concerned they’ll think I was making some kind of political maneuver.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Magnus says bracingly. “They’re not likely to say anything to you about it.”
“It’s not me I’m concerned about.”
“Then who? Don’t worry about the summit, Your Highness. Nothing will derail our negotiations with Vernallis.
I grind my teeth. He doesn’t get it.
Because of course, like my father, Magnus would only ever think about politics. He doesn’t care about individual people.
