2ND OF RADIA, 1574
In an ideal world, Ilain would never have left her parents’ home in Faurna. She would have grown up among the rolling moors, riding horses through the heather, and enjoying a small life.
Instead, her skin itched, and her hair was greasy. She’d been traveling so long that she should have become used to dirt under her nails and the constant ache in her limbs. It wasn’t her age that made the journey difficult. Being a forty-three-year-old Mage was not the same as being a regular human in their forties. Magic kept her from feeling the natural weakening of age. Her muscles were still strong, her body in its prime.
No, the bone weariness within came from a distinct incongruity to who Ilain really was at her core.
Using the back of her wrist, Ilain brushed the hair from her eyes. Her fingers were caked with spices as she seasoned the rabbits. As she finished her task, she handed them over to Auden—some for drying, others for dinner that night. The meat sizzled in the pot, letting the scent of robust coriander and sharp rosesprig drift through the air.
Tucked between her brother and her betrothed, Ilain glanced longingly at Brea and Isla, lounging a few feet away and teaching Thom the rudiments of the Schonese language. She didn’tparticularly care for their company—though she loved her sister-in-law and did miss Thom’s regular conversation, oddly enough—but she envied their freedom from the slime and sinew of raw rabbit.
Ilain was a woman wholikedbeing a woman. She enjoyed the finer, more feminine things life offered—dresses, of course, and regular bathing being chief among them. But she also loved embroidery, poetry, music, drawing, and dancing. She liked grand parties, palatial luxury, and overindulgent food. Her life as a Mage granted her access to many of those things. Yet, it also came with the weight of injustice.
If Ilain could have chosen any life for herself, she would have remained in Faurna, non-magical and insignificant. She would have still worn many beautiful dresses, danced at all the local parties, and maintained the freedom of the tranquil life she truly preferred.
No one would guess that Ilain desired such a menial life. She’d worked hard to ensure it. Why should she—the ostentatious, flippant, reactive flirt—care to live a life of tedium?
Don’t let people know what you value, and they can’t take it away from you.
That was Ilain’s guiding principle in the thirty-two years she’d lived in the Order of the Flame’s tower. It was the only thing that kept her safe, kept her sane. The mantra and Auden.
Handing another fillet to her brother, Ilain smiled to herself. Auden had always been there for her. Even when he traveled for his work as a magister, he sent her constant notes to keep her company. And he had never been gone for long.
As a viceMage, Ilain’s duties kept her bound to the Order’s tower continually. When the breadth of her magic had been discovered, she quickly became a political figurehead, a symbol of power, both for the Order and for the Alliance. The people began to recognize her as Pyra reincarnated, and she’d climbedranks quickly throughout her youth, moving from probate to aterian within ten years, a pace unheard of amongst the Orders. Yet, she’d never spent her time hired out as a regular aterian would.
Not with the power she wielded.
The Order of the Flame’s archMage, Hybold Daleran, saw Ilain’s potential from the start and wanted to ensure she never got away. Unlike the other aterians produced by the Order, he wasn’t willing to sell Ilain off to the nobility’s highest bidder. She was more than a simple guard, he’d professed. She was an asset to the whole of the Order. And so, he set her up to become his right hand, training her in politics and nurturing her mind as well as her power.
“It will be good for you, Lainy,”Auden had told her.“These are the skills you’ll need when things change—whenyourun Doorstunds Reach.”
They’d always been careful when discussing the Alliance within the Order’s walls. No one would be shocked to hear that Ilain aimed to take ArchMage Daleran’s place. But they needed everyone to believe it would be upon his retirement and not through a coup that overthrew all the Orders and the monarchy itself.
“Do you really want to rule . . . or is it just what’s expected of you?”
Ilain glanced at Ethenn on her other side. He was almost finished butchering the rabbits while she and Auden prepared and preserved them. How had Ethenn known her doubts? After all these years of preparing to become the Highlady Chancellor of Doorstunds Reach, Ilain harbored her uncertainty deep within. She hadn’t even voiced her hesitation to Auden—and she told Audeneverything.
Yet, somehow, Ethenn suspected the truth.
Perhaps that’s why she liked the young man so much. He was vastly observant and keenly alert. He knew her and her heart without needing a word to be spoken between them, which was strangely touching. It made her feel seen in a way she had never been in her entire life.
Vayden dropped down beside the campfire. His tunic collar was rimmed with sweat from training. On the far side of camp, Hewitt’s ghost stood with Deckard, Evylin, and Rafferty. Ilain was glad for their final days with the man, even if she still found his ghostly presence unsettling. It wasn’t natural, no matter how safe Lord Obel claimed. And she knew that it made Auden uncomfortable as well.
“That’s exhausting,” Vayden said with a huff. “I haven’t trained so hard in years.”
Auden and Ilain shared a grin. “You are quite old,” she teased. Though Vayden was only four years older than her, his non-magical bodyhadexperienced the rigors of age. And despite his lifetime as a spy impersonating Prince Rouland Blount II, he’d been out of the service for the past seven years.
“So are you, Lain,” he returned good-naturedly.
Ethenn shifted uncomfortably beside her but kept his eyes down.
However, Vayden caught the movement. Ilain saw the shift in her eldest brother’s demeanor. He remained playful, but his eyes studied the young Warrior with pointed interest.
Casually, Vayden cleared his throat, gaze locked on Ethenn. “While the others are distracted,” he said, a light tilt to his voice, “I think it’s the perfect time for me to do a little brotherly bonding.”
Ilain snorted, hearing the truth behind his words. “You mean brotherly interrogating,” she said.
“Not at all,” he argued. “I’ve hardly gotten to know my little sister’s betrothed. Seems an error of my judgment, and I’d like to rectify it.”
