Princess Aria was not one voice in a sea. Hers was the voice of the future monarch, the woman who would, in a matter of years, lead the entire kingdom. If there wasanychance, no matter how slim, that Baron could convince her that Casters deserved an equal place within that kingdom, it was certainly worth the effort.
If he failed . . .
Well, at least Leon could get his palace menu.
59 days left
While the physician evaluated Aria and cleaned and rebandaged her wounds, her father received a report from a guard. Though they stood in the hallway, her father kept one foot in her room, the door propped open against him, and their voices were just loud enough that she heard the news.
The soldiers sent to Northglen had not reached Morton Manor. They’d been met with a rockslide, forced to retreat. Several wounded. The widow had employed a Stone Caster, and she’d made her first open strike against the Crown.
They had no idea it wasn’t the first.
Once the physician gave his unintentionally ironic parting words—plenty of rest, Highness—Aria waited for her father to speak.
He did so quietly, retaking his seat. “The physician could find no diagnosis—no seizures, no injury—that would cause you to fall from your horse. Kendall is quite certain the animal did not trip or otherwise throw you. You simply ... collapsed.”
Aria’s fingers tightened in the blanket, her left arm throbbing. She looked down. “I’ve been clumsy of late. It’s not—”
“Eliza says you’ve been falling asleep. That you sometimes escape to the washroom or abandon your studies.”
Cold settled across Aria as surely as the covers, biting through the thick material and leaving her shivering. She wriggled deeper into the bed, hiding from both the cold and her father’s stricken gaze. Finally, she gave a slow nod.
“Aria.” Her father’s voice cracked. “Tell me.”
She wanted to so badly her heart lurched forward in her chest, reaching for him with every straining beat.
I’m cursed!she screamed internally, but instead she whispered, “I’m so tired, Father.”
He leaned forward onto the bed, resting his forearm parallel with her legs. “Have you not been sleeping nights?”
“I find myself unable.”
“Unable? What does that mean?”
“I ... I mean ...” Her throat tightened. As she drew in a shuddering breath, a single tear dripped down her cheek.
Her father’s expression pinched in a frown. “This is my doing. I’ve put too much pressure on you.”
“No!” she gasped. “This isn’t you. It’s—”Magic.“It’s a—”Caster.“It’s—”
Gently, he patted her knee. His face said it all.
“This is a small concern,” Aria tried desperately. “I’m feeling rested already.”
The king shook his head. “I have been blind to an ongoing problem, but no longer.”
“Father, I—”
“When I noticed your attention drifting in meetings, I thought it only a teenage rebellion, a manifestation of how our wills seem to be growing at odds. I thought to point you more diligently toward your duty. Now, I ...” He sighed. “You fell from your horse, Aria. You could have been trampled. What kind of father would I be to ignore such a concern?” He clenched his jaw, looking away. “What kind of king?”
While Aria floundered, he stood, his bearing regal. Even withhis white uniform rumpled from a worried night, he was every inch the king who’d rejuvenated a kingdom.
“Rest, Aria,” he ordered. “I will determine the solution to this matter. In the meantime, you are relieved of all duties.”
Relieved of all duties. Mark.She knew he meant it as a boon, knew he wanted to help, but she also knew he could not.
Rest,said the physician.Rest,said her father. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream.
