“Where is Bridgette?”
Garrett’s deep laugh rumbles through me. “Still sleeping. The three of us had a, ah... long night of goodbyes.”
That must have been nice. For a moment, I miss Dom and Olbric fiercely as I bury my face against Garrett’s broad chest. All of the things I have to do today suddenly feel overwhelming. Like I’ve taken too big of a bite and am just now realizing that I have to chew through it all.
Garrett must feel something in my stance, because his arms circle a little tighter. “What’s on the docket today? Anything I can help with?”
I keep my face firmly against his chest. “Would you be willing to keep an eye on things here this morning?”
“I can,” he says, but his unasked question hangs between us.
“I need to go to the palace and speak with Queen Tramella,” I say.
“Ah,” Garrett says, but something in his tone makes me wonder.
“Does the King’s physician have any advice on dealing with Strae royalty?”
“When speaking to the Queen Mother, directness is, ah, appreciated,” Garrett says carefully. “She is not the most patient woman.”
I hum as I loosen my grip enough to look up at him. “Do you think showing up unannounced to request an audience will be direct enough?”
Garrett chuckles. “It’s bold, but I have a feeling that boldness will be appreciated. Arlon has always stepped carefully around the Crown, and I think Tramella gets frustrated by that hesitancy.”
I tuck that bit of information away. Arlon comes from nothing, so it’s no surprise that he doesn’t feel comfortable inserting himself into royal affairs. But I was raised doing it, and if I’m going to save my family’s name, if I’m going to succeed at becoming Grandmaster permanently, I need to make a strong first impression.
“Thank you, Garrett.”
One strong hand gently squeezes my shoulder. “Just breathe. You can do this.”
I take that boost of confidence with me before I ask Symon to ready a carriage. As he does, I hurry upstairs and change into my robes, putting my masteries on display.
I try not to think too hard about the two I’m still lacking. Transmutation and enchantment are the final hurdles to my full mastery, and it’s no question as to why that is. Both schools require a certain level of... debasement, a stripping away of dignity that’s difficult for me.
I force the thought away as I head into the courtyard. The delegation has departed, leaving no trace behind save for the small group of loiterers still outside of the Crux’s gates. The majority of the crowd departed when the remnants of the royal procession returned to the palace, but a few loudmouths linger, their jeers and calls carrying across the drawbridge. Teagan, the Royal Guard on duty, looks annoyed at the hecklers, and I silently wonder why she hasn’t told them to leave yet.
The distrust and hostility towards wizards has spread through Straetham like a sickness in recent months. It’s been exhausting to deal with. We can barely go into town without getting harassed, and there are groups that seem to come to the Crux with the sole purpose of creating a headache for us. Hearing the shouts and jeers, the “thots” thrown across the fence today, hardens my resolve.
“Allisande Maxwell should hang for pitching us into war!”
The bold voice carries across the courtyard, and a figure I hadn’t noticed sitting in the shade along the inner wall abruptly stands. I barely see the gleam of black horns before Margeurite is at the gate. A spell flashes out on her necklace, and fear makes my stomach drop at the open fury on her face.
I reach for my own spells on instinct before Margeurite’s voice booms out, “Leave immediately, or I will make you.”
I wince at the volume as much as the threat.That’scertainly not going to help us, but at least she doesn’t outright blast the man. Yet she’s only reinforcing the idea these people hold that wizards are dangerous, and in that moment, I believe she could be.
Margeurite’s eyes are rimmed with red, her teeth bared in a furious snarl as she glares through the bars of the portcullis. She’s usually so calm, so collected, that seeing her like this is startling.
“Mags,” I say, my surprise turning my voice sharp. She whirls to face me, and I see every bit of the anger and helplessness she’s feeling. Having Allisande ripped away from her again has broken something in her, but before I can offer any word, her expression crumples. She flees, tears spilling fresh from her eyes before she disappears back into the Crux.
For a moment, I’m not sure what to do, but Margeurite’s threat worked. The crowd disperses, and Symon uses the cleared path to bring the carriage to a stop in front of the Crux. I swear, feeling pulled in two directions at once.
“One thing at a time,” I say before I head towards the gate. I’ll give Margeurite a chance to cool off before I talk to her.
“That’s one way to disperse a crowd,” Teagan mutters as I approach, working her finger into her ear.
“My apologies,” I say.
Teagan just shrugs. “I’ll take the ringing ears. She saved me from yelling at them myself.”
