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My heart skips a beat as I search the shop for the older woman. I see nothing but walls of shelves lined with jars and mirrors reflecting my face back at me. “Where is Ianca?”
“She is safe outside of Cirilea. The journey here was long and took its toll on her, but she is anxious to meet you. Wendeline said you did not know what you had in your old life.”
I shake my head. “I didn’t believe in any of this.”
“Did Aoife curse me?” Zander interrupts. “Did she weaken my mind by binding my heart to Romeria?”
I clench my teeth against the sting of that question.
Gesine’s green eyes flitter between the two of us. “We can discuss what she did when the time is right. I think you will see soon that it does not matter.”
“You speak in riddles,” he growls.
“It may seem like that.” She nods to my hand. “That ring. Remove it if you will. I would like to get a sense of your power for myself.”
Zander watches me intently as I slip Queen Isla’s ring off my finger. That heady thrum of power begins crawling through my body almost instantly, intensifying with each passing moment.
“Remarkable.” Awe blossoms over Gesine’s face. “It is unpleasant for you?”
“Very.” I don’t know how to describe this sensation. It’s a mix between the prickling, tingling buzz of pins and needles in my limbs, and a surge of adrenaline through my veins.
“That feeling will dull when you learn how to contain it.”
“Thank God for that,” I mutter. In the shadows behind Gesine, I spot an unfamiliar woman’s face staring back at me. I startle, and seeing that it’s a reflection in a mirror, spin around to look behind me. Only Zander is there.
I turn to face the mirror again, my wariness edging in.
I reach up to touch my cheek.
The woman in the reflection does the same.
I touch my nose.
She does the same.
“Oh my God,” I whisper, clutching at my neck as waves of shock engulf me.
The floating orb brightens, shining more light.
I take in the stranger looking back at me, with her angular face, her pale-blue eyes, and her heart-shaped lips. The only similar thing to both of us is the color of our hair. “This isn’t my face.” Or my voice.
“An illusion,” Gesine confirms. “The caster bound that to the ring, as well. To give you some semblance of familiarity, and make the transition into Princess Romeria’s body easier.”
“To help me.” This was Sofie’s version of help, along with the spells to stifle my caster powers. She thought of everything.
“I would suggest you slip the ring back on for now. Until you learn how to contain what stirs inside you, you will not be able to focus on much of anything else, and we have a journey ahead of us.”
Within seconds of the cool gold band encasing my finger again, the purring adrenaline quells. I glance up to see my familiar face in the mirror once again. The one constant that I’ve known all my life.
It’s the only thing I have left.
A single knock sounds on the door, and Elisaf ducks in. “Soldiers are moving in. We have only a moment.”
“We must move with haste, then.” With a sweep of Gesine’s hand, the counter slides aside to reveal a gaping hole beneath and the tip of a ladder.
I push aside my bewilderment at her ability to do that. “The last time I followed an elemental somewhere, she sent me to this godforsaken place and put me in this body.”
Gesine dips her head as if to acknowledge my anxiety. “My only purpose here is to guide you in what already is.”
