I drew in a sharp breath.
When had all of this ambition arrived? Had it been within me all along?
I dwelt on the smothered daydream longer, slipping underneath the covers in the darkness of my room. As I did so, my anger slowly dwindled, tamed by a goal bigger than my present fury.
Grand Mage.
To be Grand Mage was to advise the crown in all magical affairs, chosen by the Mage Council as the realm’s most accomplished mage.
It was a position that I’d never even dreamed of until this summer, but even then, it was dismissed in light of Thomas’s superiority in every way.
Yet hadn’t I surpassed all of his expectations? Mastered his most complicated of spellwork?
The idea of beating a prince to Grand Mage, of achieving it all by my own ambition, of having that kind of power and sway…
Everyone believed Thomas was guaranteed to achieve the position by the time he qualified. But that would be at least two decades away.
And a lot could happen in two decades…
I grabbed Papa’s journal, pulling it into bed and bringing the covers over my head. I whispered a soft enchantment that conjured a soft magelight. My eyes scanned the final few pages I had yet to reach.
Kelara’s handwriting had taken over Papa’s by now, and she chronicled our family history in columns.
Our family, as I already knew, immigrated to Amouridia a few generations back, but I didn’t know exactly who or why. I now read the names of my great grandparents, and their great grandparents,the spelling and sounds so different from the ones I was used to.
They’d come from the Wild Lands. My mind flashed back to Thom’s lesson by the pond, the map he’d drawn in the air with mere mist. Mountain ranges bordered Amouridia, wild and treacherous. He’d told me of the raw magic that existed there.
I wondered why and how my ancestors had survived in such cold isolation. I wondered why they’d moved.
Beside each name, Kelara had listed their mage specialties. My eyes skimmed down the column. Fire. Fire. Water. Fire. Earth. Fire. Fire. Fire.
My gaze halted.
Fortune-teller.
The air turned thin in my lungs.
I flipped to the next page, desperate to see if any more information existed about my great great grandmother, but it seemed as though that was all my father had considered important to say. I wished more than anything he were still alive to answer the questions I now allowed myself to ask. I wished I’d been brave enough to discuss them, to reach for more than I thought I could, when he was around and eager to help.
You’re made for more.
I knew I was. I wasn’t just a charity case, a commoner lucky to converse with the prince, let alone train under him.
I was a mage with impressive drive, a woman with wild magic flowing in her veins, a fortune-teller who was just beginning to believe she could one day become Grand Mage.
I finally understood Papa’s words—I was made for greatness that only he could see.
A greatness I was only just beginning to believe in for myself.
The banquet hall was a cacophony of excited chatter, echoing through the thick palace walls and into the night air outside. Much of the court had gathered to celebrate the kingdom’s top mages as they began their internships abroad.
Anna and I watched the bright lights in the windows flicker as the shadows of nobility danced within. I sighed.
“It’s probably beautiful,” she said.
“Most likely.”
“Do you think that the princes will dance?”
