"I loathe magic," she whispered.
"I know." He paused. "But a spell or two is never a bad thing."
"I have a sword."
"So do I."
"I know how to use mine."
He laughed a little. "You have little faith in my skill."
"Miach, I've watched you train. If training it could be called?and with someone else's sword, no less."
"I'm fiercer in battle."
She snorted. She would have to see that.
"You know," he said slowly, "Adhémar could teach you a spell or two."
She looked at him in astonishment.
Oddly enough, he was looking at her in the same manner, as it he couldn't believe what he'd said.
"Did I say that?" he asked, sounding incredulous.
"Aye. Does he know any spells?"
"Not any interesting ones," Miach said. "But perhaps a useful one or two. "
Morgan took him by the arm and started down the passageway. "I'll think on it," she said again. And unfortunately, she suspected she just might. She loathed magic, 'twas true, though she was beginning to find that spell of concealment tripping far too easily from her tongue. The werelight, as well, was something quite useful she couldn't create with her sword.
But anything else?
If it were taught by Adhémar?
She wondered if she would manage to listen to more than one spell before she grew so irritated with him that she would skewer him on the end of her sword. She likely should have done that the first time she'd seen him. She had been prepared to do damage to him without regret, but his visage had stopped her.
Was it a weakness that would be her downfall now?
She examined that as she allowed Miach to make a diversion to get them out the front door. Even Weger had been known on occasion to comment on the fairness of a wench's face.
Never hers, of course, but perhaps he had considered her unhandsome.
She walked down the palace's front steps, then stopped Miach at the bottom of those stairs.
"Am I fair to look upon?" she asked bluntly.
His eyes widened and a look of astonishment came upon his features.
She scowled at him. "You wear that look often. "
"You catch me unawares often."
"Is the question so difficult, then?" she asked tartly.
He looked at her darkly, then turned and walked away, muttering under his breath. Morgan followed him, unsure why she felt so not herself. Indeed, her eyes began to burn and she suspected that had she had any feelings, they might be smarting as well.
"It was a ridiculous question," she announced, to save her pride.
