I’d never witnessed a courtship founded on feelings—on love. I couldn’t remember much about my parents’ relationship. There was a fog that existed over my early years. Ophelia had told me it was due to witnessing such a traumatic event. I remembered almost nothing of my father. He’d left no impact on me, other than feelings of abandonment. I knew deep in my bones that he and my mother hadn’t been a love match.
Just like the women that came before me, I wasn’t destined for love. Thinking I had choice would only complicate things, if I managed to get back to Erador. I’d channel all of these feelings into serving the Crown… even if I didn’t want it. Romance only existed in books anyways. And love with a faerie Prince… it was so unfathomable, it was laughable.
He didn’t want a mortal human. He’d grow bored of me once the novelty wore off, then disappointment and pain would be all that was left. I’d made the right decision.
I didn’t have much time to ponder my feelings. Lusha came in with a tailor and they began getting me ready for my first day of training. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing as they fitted me for tunics, shirts, leggings, and even leather armor.Why did I need armor?
“Who sanctioned this? Surely not the Queen,” I said while the tailor circled me, measuring and pinning.
Lusha giggled before saying, “Prince Louis and Rafael both insisted it was necessary for your training. You don’t like pants, Miss?”
“I don’t dislike them, I’ve just never worn them,” I said defensively. Lusha raised her brows in confusion, as if she thought I’d lived under a rock before coming here.Not under a rock; just from a different rock entirely.
“Lusha, I need to tell you something—privately.”
She nodded before asking the tailor to leave us for a moment. “What is it, Miss?” Her blue eyes were so sincere, it was easy to open up to her.
“You may want to sit down,” I said, pointing to one of the cushioned chairs in front of the hearth. She hesitated for a moment before complying.
“Lusha, I’m not from Nymera.” Her eyes grew large, but she didn’t interrupt me. “I lived in Erador until a few days ago. I somehow crossed a bridge to this world while I was sleeping. The Princes found me in the forest… and I believe you know the rest.”
Lusha’s face contorted from surprise to professional neutrality. “Please don’t tell anyone,” I pleaded. “I don’t knowhowto world walk—I don’t know that I’m capable ofanymagic. I don’t want to become a false prophet for your people. I just want to get home.”
Lusha gave a firm nod before standing and brushing her skirts. “Well, that explains a few things,” she said slowly. “It seems almost too good to be true. We’ve waited so long for a way back to Erador. Your secret is safe with me. I’ll do what I can to help you adjust to your new life here. And I might have the occasional burning question or two.” She gave a shy smile and I felt a wave of relief roll through me.
“Of course. I’m happy to answer questions. After all, it’s the home world of your people too.”
“So you don’t wear pants in Erador?” We laughed together before inviting the tailor back in.
thirteen
Imet Louis on the terrace overlooking the gardens. He was wearing a sky blue shirt that complimented his copper hair. Over it he wore a brown leather vest that laced up the middle. He also wore bracers, brown breeches, and a sword at his hip. It seemed a little overkill for our first lesson. He led me to a private space, a short walk away, while I stayed tucked behind him, feeling self-conscious in leggings and a tunic.
White Corinthian pillars lined the small circular area that appeared to be designated for sparring. Crows sat atop the pillars, cawing and flapping their wings at us. They were heckling me—waiting for me to embarrass myself. I scowled at them.
Springy, soft grass blanketed the ground. Haystacks draped in a tough canvas material looked designed for target practice. A rack of wooden swords and other weapons I’d never seen before sat outside the circle, waiting to be wielded. I shuffled my feet nervously, feeling exposed without heavy skirts to hide beneath.
“Is your clothing uncomfortable? You keep tugging at your pants,” Louis asked with a playful grin.
“This is my first timewearingthis type of clothing, thank you very much. You may keep your observations to yourself.” I crossed my arms and glared at him, daring him to say another word.
“Now, how would you learn anything if I did that?” Louis circled me with an eagle-eyed keenness. I stiffened as he moved my feet wider, tucked my shoulders back, and told me to engage my core. A mask of anger was better than how I really felt—like an absolute fraud.
“Have you ever used a weapon before? Have you ever been taught to defend yourself? Any experience hunting?” Louis asked.
No, no, and no…
“Unfortunately, where I’m from, women of my position aren’t allowed to participate in such things. We’re taught the life-saving skills of cross-stitching and pianoforte.” I couldn’t hide my bitterness. If Opheliahadsomehowknown I was going to come here, she’d left me ill-equipped.
“So we’re starting from scratch. Well, the good news is, we have a blank canvas to work with.” He gave me a kind smile. I already felt defeated. “Don’t look so blue. We’ll ease you into everything. There are certain exercises you can practice to quiet your mind and still your body. They’re necessary for controlling your magic. We’ll start there. Then, we’re going to work on some basic movements that’ll help you find balance and build strength. Next, I’ll teach you how to defend yourself. You’ll learn to wield magic as you grow stronger, both mentally and physically.”
“Will you teach me to attack too?” Defense was great, but I wanted to be self-reliant. I didn’t want to depend on anyone in this world—or Erador, for that matter. If I ever got back.
“Yes, but that’s not a priority at the moment. We don’t know what kind of magic you wield yet, although Galen mentioned something about healing powers? Some magic takes as much effort as breathing. Other types take practice and precision. Your healing seems to happen passively, but there’s likely more to it. I’m not a healer, so we’ll have to find someone who is—someone who can mentor you.”
Melisandre. I’d ask Galen if I could arrange a meeting with her. “I’ve been healing quickly since arriving here, but I haven’tfeltany type of magic when my body has mended itself.”
I tried to remember the last time I was truly injured or sick. It had been a long while. I’d gotten Scarlet Fever as a child. Perhaps I’d been healing fast for years now, but with my sheltered lifestyle, hadn’t noticed. That felt too pathetic to admit out loud.
