Page 9 of Water and Wild

Pretty words to mask an intention that was decidedly not.

Because Kit quickly grew to understand that she had been summoned for a very specific purpose. That there was a reason he had met with the king, had asked for his blessing.

Evander had made a decision.

And it wasn’t one that would lead to Elyria finally—officially—becoming the sister Kit already considered her to be. It was about something . . . else.

“I will enter the Arcane Crucible,” he’d said.

She’d always known her brother was not meant for anything small in this life. That he had a part to play in something larger. Something important.

She just hadn’t expected this.

Their mother spoke first.

“You will not.”

Laeliana Ravenswing was not a woman typically prone to outward displays of emotion. She was the duchess of Aerithia, sister to the king, and had been raised to wield her courtly manners like a blade. This was a woman who had buried two husbands and lived through three separate wars without so much as a crack in her composure, after all.

Yet when Evander made his declaration, Laeliana’s golden eyes—the mirror image of her son’s—had flashed with something alarmingly close to fear.

Evander’s voice was steady, unwavering. Almost . . . cold. “I’ve made my decision, Mother. Telling you was a courtesy. The only person’s permission I needed was the king’s. My uncle granted it.”

Laeliana’s wings twitched behind her. “You are the heir to this house. Third in line to the throne. You have a duty here. You cannot throw your life away on this foolishness just because⁠—”

“Foolishness? Did the celestials create the Arcane Crucible for no reason, then? Is the Crown of Concord not worth pursuing any longer? With its power, we could fix so much. What kind of son of Nyrundelle would I be if I stayed my hand, letting others risk their lives for such a prize while I continued resting on my laurels?”

Laeliana scoffed, and Kit could no longer hold her tongue. “Those ‘others’ have been training for the past quarter century—longer!—to take on the challenges of the Crucible. You may have been a magnificent warrior in your heyday, Ev, but admit it. When’s the last time you even wielded a blade?”

“Who needs a blade?” Evander drew his hand in a long sweep through the air in front of him, his fingers curling around nothing as water seeped from his palm, crystallizing, forming a long spear of ice. He gripped the shaft, rapping the end on the floor with a wet thwack.

Kit’s eyes nearly rolled out the back of her head.

If Evander noticed her flippancy, he didn’t acknowledge it. “You would rather the humans claim the crown then? So they can come for our land, siphon away more of the earth’s mana, bit by bit?”

“As if a human could make it through the Crucible,” Laeliana muttered.

“Or worse, what if one of Malakar’s followers gets their hands on it?” Evander continued. “Imagine that kind of power in the hands of a sanguinagi, the Crown of Concord corrupted with blood magic.”

“Since when have you cared about any of that? About anything other than this?” Kit gestured broadly to the room around them.

His gaze softened. “Things change, Kitty Kat.”

Kit closed her fist in the air, melting down Evander’s ice spear with a wisp of her own tideweaving magic, letting it puddle on the floor around his boots. “You won’t win.” The words were harsh, but they were true. “No one ever wins. The Crucible takes its champions and leaves their bones where no one ever finds them. It turns their names into nothing but echoes. There are plenty of fools already willing to risk their lives for the glory of it, so why you? What could possibly be worth taking that risk?”

For the first time since this conversation had begun, something flickered across Evander’s face—a crack in the carefully controlled mask he was wearing.

Kit narrowed her eyes.

She knew that look.

And she knew her brother. He was not the kind of man who sought fame or glory. Despite his declarations otherwise, she knew this wasn’t even about their people, about Nyrundelle.

She exhaled sharply. “This is about Ellie.”

Laeliana threw her hands up, a noise of displeasure ripping through the air. “Of course it is,” she said, shaking her head. “I should have known.” She collapsed into a nearby chair, the wood scraping against the marble floor, as if staying upright was suddenly an impossible task.

Evander didn’t confirm it. Didn’t deny it either.