“I donotgossip—”
“Second,” he interrupted, “You must pretend like I’m not a prince. I realize some of the maids gain unrealistic expectations…”
My nostrils flared. “Are you referring to your brother and El—”
He held up a hand. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
I crossed my arms with a huff.
“And finally, I will need your assistance in a personal project of mine. I’m supposed to be completing research for an academic treatise that could fast-track my certification...”
The very idea of working side-by-side with a mage like him, one talented enough to lead the council, one who could teach me all the secrets of the craft and unlock the abilities kept behind a wall within me…
“… with an emphasis on plague curses that must be kept top-secret—”
“Alright.” The words were out before I thought them through.
He blinked. “Are you positive?”
“As long as I can quit at any time.”
“Of course.”
“Then yes. Please teach me.” My lungs expanded; the air feltfresher, the world wider. I closed Papa’s journal with a soft thump, tucking it behind me before turning to him. “Where do we start?”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“And that’s the history of the legality of domestic magic.”
My body jerked and my eyes fluttered open. I clapped weakly, my body slumping further against the boulder. “Incredible.”
He grinned. “I appreciate that.”
I rubbed my fingers down my cheeks. “Prince Thomas—Your Highness,” I said gently. “When I asked where we were going to start, I had meant which spell you wanted me to practice.”
He furrowed his brow. “Theory comes before magic, Lyranore.”
I fluttered my fingers, a slight yellow shimmer hovering in the air between them. “I’ve been managing just fine.”
“I beg to differ, textile mage.”
Something within me sparked. “I beg your pardon?”
He fidgeted with his glasses. “I simply mean you obviously lack experience in any significant magic.”
I exhaled sharply. “Typical.” I got to my feet. “I don’t know why I expected any differently.”
He stiffened. “Did I say something wrong?”
I laughed bitterly. “No, Your Highness. Of course not.”
“It seems as if you are angry with me.”
“Not at all.” I smoothed out my nightgown, then took Papa’sbook in my arms. “On second thought, Prince Thomas, I am not sure this arrangement is for the best.”
His brow creased. “Miss Lyranore…”
I held up a hand. “No,” I said. “Do not worry your crowned little head. I think I’d prefer to tutor myself.”
