I swallowed and nodded. I ran my fingertip over the tear ever so slowly, the two sides of fabric held together with my other hand. His warmth was a comfort to my chilled fingers in the night air, his body as still as a statue.
A yellow shimmer wrapped around his bicep, refracting glimmers of starlight. I wanted to fix this. I had to.
But why? It was just a tear—easy to sew. Why would I need to invoke magic for such a simple feat?
I knew why. Because I had to prove him wrong. I had to prove that I had the talent, the nerve, to meet him where he was, exceed his expectations, prove beyond a doubt that his royal blood could be evenly matched by a commoner. I felt him watching my face but ignored it, instead letting my nostrils flare, my brows wrinkle as anger surged within me.
I had to return the shirt to what it was before my insides had begun to squirm. Before I’d been bothered by the way the mage prince peered at me, as though my presence were an unwelcome intrusion of his pampered world.
Golden waves fluttered in a dance like the night sky’s winter lights among the stars. The magic slowly sank into the fabric, the tear mended as if nothing had even occurred.
My trance broken, I looked up at Prince Thomas. Intrigue flickered in his eyes.
“So?”
I opened my mouth, unable to articulate, unable to even understand the question.
“What was your motive?”
And then I remembered.The time before him—his low voice, his warm skin, his fascinated stare. Before I felt a strange thrill that I didn’t understand.
I lowered my gaze. “Um… duty. You commanded me to complete the task. It was my duty, so I did it.”
When I looked back up, the intrigue in his expression, the spark in his eyes, had faded back into their usual superiority. I bit my cheek.
“Fine,” he said. “If that’s what works for you, then keep to it.”
I nodded, my stomach dropping.
He gestured to the water. “Again,” he commanded me.
By the time I trudged home, I was no closer to crafting a pillar of water. But I had made a splash in both the pond’s surface and somewhere deep within myself.
I just didn’t know what to do with either discovery.
After last night’s semi-success, I was groggy, irritable, and quietly proud as I found my way to the breakfast table.
“Someone had a rough night,” Drea remarked. Her long locks had yet to be tamed, draping over the table and her arms like a curtain as she dabbed the corners of her mouth with a napkin.
I lifted my brows, hiding my amused smirk by crunching into ajam-laden piece of toast.
“Leave her be, Drea,” Anna snapped. In the past week, Anna’s forehead had developed a permanent crease, one I’d never seen before Ella had fled.
Our eyes met, and I was taken aback by the remorse that had settled in her gaze and made a home. “Are you alright, Anna?”
“She’s been in a mood, too,” Drea commented. “I’m the only sane one left in this place.”
Anna nodded. “Fine,” she said, her voice hoarse and thick.
“Is it Ella?”
Drea scoffed. “It’s no use bringing up the runaway anymore. She’s got her hands too full at home to bother us again.”
“Drea!”
My mouth fell open as Anna stood abruptly, taking her bowl and striding away, not even sparing a glance back at her twin. Drea’s eyes widened and the table fell silent.
Mrs. Calloway stopped by, placing a hand on Drea’s shoulder. “Give her time, dear,” she murmured. “She’ll come to reason.”
