I thought the same—but apparently not. Although the cluster of buildings ahead of us is sprawling, they all belong to the same,vast complex, with just a few other structures around it. I don’t think this can be the fae court, but it’s certainly impressive.
“What is that?” I ask Phaia. I might not feel as friendly as I once did toward Leon’s soldiers, but I’m still on speaking terms with them. They were just following their captain’s orders, after all.
“It’s Vastamae,” Phaia says. I blink, surprised that the word sounds familiar. “It’s a lyceum. Filusia’s oldest and best.”
That explains it. It must have been mentioned in one of my books at the manor.
“What’s a lyceum?” Tira asks.
“It’s like a school,” I say.
“It’s a place of learning,” Phaia corrects me. “Our scholars and magical experts live, teach, and study here.”
“So, like a school,” Tira replies, rolling her eyes behind Phaia’s back for my benefit.
Leonhadsaid something about getting help for me with my magic. A place full of scholars and magical experts should do the trick. But what I still don’t understand is why we came here first. Surely the fae king Respen would be keen to see his grandson again, especially after his unexpected troubles in Trova. Yet Leon seems bent on me getting this all-important training taken care of before everything else.
That makes me nervous, even if I can’t exactly say why.
Given we’ve been camping out as we travel—and Tira and I were never brought along when some of the soldiers would go on supply runs—these are the first fae buildings we have seen up close. As we ride through the entrance of the Lyceum,I realize I have nothing to compare it to. While I’ve seen a variety of structures on my travels through Trova, from the palace in Elmere to the slums of Hallowbane, there’s something fundamentally whimsical about this place that didn’t translate in any of the pictures of Filusia I’ve seen in books.
Each window is curled at the corners like old scrolls, while steps are paved in a patchwork of differently colored marbles. The bright roofs fit with the creative decor, matching the deep blue robes of the fae who mill around us.
I don’t miss their curious looks aimed in our direction as we dismount.
“Are they expecting us?” I say to no one in particular.
“They are,” answers Alastor, gesturing to a freckled fae hurrying toward us.
“Your Highness,” he says to Leon with a low bow. “My apologies for keeping you waiting, but I was only just informed of your arrival.”
“Aren’t you supposed to train seers here?” Stratton asks with a grin. “Shouldn’t someone have seen us coming?”
Damia smirks, but the fae blinks at him in confusion.
“I’m sorry my lord, but the divinatory arts don’t quite work like that,” he says with complete seriousness.
“Why don’t you just take us to Proctor Gallis,” Leon says. The freckled fae nods at Leon’s suggestion and asks us to follow him.
I fall in beside Stratton as we walk through the Lyceum hallways, and he gives me one of his wide smiles.
“Apparently they don’t teach people a sense of humor here,” he says as a passing scholar catches his eye. He winks at the pretty fae, and she blushes, clutching her pile of books tighter to her chest.
“You’re surprisingly perky for someone who was drugged,” I say coolly. What I mean, really, is that he’s surprisinglyfriendly.I’d have expected him to give me the cold shoulder after what Tira and I did.
My comment distracts Stratton from the scenery, and he turns back to me.
“I figured fair was fair, Your Highness, after what I did.”
I frown, confused. Whathedid? But Leon’s the one who conjured up dreams so he could slip me a potion without me knowing.
“What do you mean? It’s not like you were the one who?—”
I stop at the look on Stratton’s face.
“Yougave me the potion? Why?”
“It had to be me, Your Highness. That stuff smelled foul enough. Even the captain’s dream magic might not have been up to hiding the flavor.”
