“Dearest,” I begin. The women sigh in one heaving breath. Oh please! I give them a stern stare over the parchment and startover.
Dearest,
If you haven’t already heard, I am in Alps of Alconea, where a terrible avalanche nearly destroyed the village of Alkin. I was able to stop the destruction and hopefully further solidify my honor in your eyes. For one note of appreciation from you is all I’ll ever seek in this world. One day I hope we can walk side by side on these beautiful mountains. How I long to be near you again! My heart punches in anticipation.
Wishing you my love,
Jatin
It is a complete farce. I have not seen the boy since that night I “punched” him in the face. Thinking back, what I did should be categorized under a shove or a slap, not a punch. I barely grazed him. But details get exaggerated with time. Or better put, Jatin likes to exaggerate. In reality, we don’t like each other. And we certainlydon’tlove each other.
Glancing up, I watch the kitchen staff hanging off each other and melting into the rugs. “Really,everytime, guys?”
“He is so passionate and romantic,” our cook, Meeta, says.
Zara croons, “Read the part again about appreciation in your eyes is all he seeks.”
I push off the table and turn to go. Most of my audience heeds the signal and slips back to work in their designated parts of the house. Only Willona and Zara stay behind, probably to talk to Mother or Father about some chore or other.
“Where are you off to? Aren’t you going to help me in the clinic today?” Mother asks, annoyed at my rudeness. “And you need to deliver firelight to the East Village, right?”
I swivel back. “Um, I need another hour to get the firelight ready for the East Village.”
Her fingers full of upma stop midair. “You didn’t finish last night?”
“Ah yes, that is what I’m saying. Didn’t finish.”
“Oh, Adraa.” She releases her frown, the signature one. “That’s the fourth time in the past two months you have been behind.”
“Training first, then one hour of work, and I’ll be right on schedule.” I put on my best “it’s no problem” face.
She sees right through me. “Training first? Adraa,no.Basu expects a thousand firelights by midday.”
I shove at the swinging door, desiring escape. If Mother pushes about why I didn’t get the firelight done, she might start to piece together what I really do at night. I can’t let that happen.
Willona saves me, with a joke at my own expense. “Oh, Miss Belwar gets so enthusiastic for training after getting one of Jatin’s love letters.” She grins and places one hand near her heart.
“Probably to burn off that blush.” Zara fans herself and giggles.
I gesture to my face. “I’m not blushing.” Although it might be hard to tell even if I were. After Mother I’m the darkest in the room, sometimes in the entire palace.
“Oh, guess you aren’t,” Zara says, sounding way too disappointed. A blush lies over her own cheeks, however, which makes me smile. She will surely sneak out for the festivities and I could ask her later how Jatin’s parade went. Then I could ask about more than just the parade; I could ask about him. Did he look kind? Did he look nice? Did he look as powerful as he mustbe?
Ah, why do I even care about the jerk?Walk side by side on the Alps of Alconea? He knows I’ve never truly traveled, didn’t join him at the academy a year after he started. I’m the oddity with a one-armed Touch and thus have been bound to this part of the world to preserve the Belwar reputation. Can’t have the heir to the throne running off to the academy, a place to showcase the next great leaders of our generation, and embarrassing herself. I push at the door again, thinking about training. Maybe I am an embarrassment. Unlike Jatin, who at nine could cast all nine types of magic, my white magic casting is bloody awful. If Alkin had had to rely on me, that village wouldn’t have survived.
“Fine, one hour to train, one hour to make the firelight, and then you are getting down to the East Village,” Mother says.
“Thank you. You’re the best, Mom!” I call.
Father looks up from his reports and raises both his arms. “I’m still here, you know.”
“You are the best too, Dad.” And he was, for getting me out of seeing Jatin today.
“Can I go to the parade, then?” Prisha asks. “If Adraa doesn’t want to see Jatin, I do.”
I hold my breath. In no way wasthata good idea.
“Prisha, you have an exam,” Mother argues.
