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Heath didn’t know whether to laugh or grimace. There was no signature, but it wasn’t necessary. He knew his grandmother’s handwriting. He pocketed the note without delay. Clearly she wanted him to call on her first thing.
The servant directed him toward the right wing of the castle, and with additional instructions from others he passed on the way, he found himself in front of her door before the sun had fully cleared the forest that lay to the east of Kynton.
Heath paused in the corridor and drew a deep breath, surprised by his own nerves. He had always felt very relaxed with his grandmother. It was a strange experience to feel apprehensive about an invitation to have tea with her.
But although she hadn’t written it in so many words, her summons had been clear. This was no friendly chat over pastries. He’d managed to stand his ground and refuse to tell his parents the details of what had happened to him a little more than a month ago. But he knew instinctively that he would have no such success with his grandmother. He was going to end up telling her everything, he was sure of it.
The thought was equal parts relieving and unnerving.
Enough brooding, he told himself. He raised his fist and knocked firmly on the door.
“Enter!”
The cheerful voice helped calm his tumultuous emotions. Of course she wasn’t going to interrogate him. She had a gentle heart that never failed to set him at ease.
“Good morning, Grandmother,” he said, smiling as he entered the chamber.
She was seated at a writing desk by the window, but she had turned in her chair to watch him enter.
“Heath.” The smile dimmed slightly on her face, and her eyes searched his features shrewdly. “Are you hungry?” She gestured to the tray set on a nearby table, steam still rising from the teapot, and scones arranged on a plate alongside.
Heath glanced at the food. “Not really,” he admitted. He felt slightly ill, not uncommon after waking from an unsettling dream.
“Hm.” His grandmother was still watching him thoughtfully. “I think what you need is fresh air.” She stood, and Heath moved forward quickly to offer her his arm. “Thank you,” she said warmly, leaning on him slightly as they made their way out of the room. She led him along the quiet corridor, empty except for the servants. “I’ve been looking forward to a proper talk,” she said calmly. “We can talk just as well walking as sitting still, can’t we?”
“Better, probably,” Heath agreed easily.
“Let me take you to my favorite spot for early morning strolls,” the elderly princess said. “When I was young, I often wished to escape from the court to clear my head. I found not many of my father’s nobles were early risers. I think that’s why I got into the habit.”
“It’s strange to picture you here, in your childhood,” Heath mused. “Valoria has always been your home in my memory.”
She smiled. “It has been my home much longer than Kyona was. But Kyona is my past nevertheless, and I’m delighted to share it with you.” She gave him a serious look. “The legacy of our power comes from Kyona, Heath, and I think it might help you embrace yours if you see that.”
He was silent for a moment, noting the troubled look that crossed his grandmother’s face as she spoke. She was leading him up a staircase he hadn’t traveled before, and he could see the sun starting to peek through windows up ahead.
“You’re worried about Percival embracing his power too much, though, aren’t you?” he asked.
She gave him a startled look, not immediately speaking. They waited for a servant to pass, then stepped through a doorway onto the battlements that ran along the southern side of the building. The elderly princess nodded to a guard, and continued until they were out of the man’s earshot. Then she let go of Heath’s arm, resting a hand on the stone in front of her and looking out. Heath followed her gaze.
“It’s a beautiful vista,” he said quietly. “I can see why you liked to come here.”
The city of Kynton stretched out before them, and beyond it was a vast expanse of green fields, golden wheat, and dotted villages. The dense Forest of Rune lay to his left, and somewhere, way beyond view, was the sea. For a moment he could see it, sunlight shimmering off the water, gulls calling harshly, spray leaping up as the waves crashed against submerged rocks.
He shook his head. A mere fancy. The sea was many leagues to the south, beyond even his sight.
“How did you know I was worried about Percival?” his grandmother asked abruptly. “Did you just guess because you’re worried as well?”
Heath didn’t meet her eyes, his gaze still on the far distance. “No,” he said slowly. “I mean, I am worried as well. I can already see how taken Percival is with the culture around magic here. And I don’t think it will do him any good to see the contrast.” He sighed. “Of course, it doesn’t take much to imagine you might share that concern. I’m guessing you were quite intentional in not inviting him to visit just now, and that you have good reasons. But sensing your concern was different. It wasn’t a guess. When you frowned, I knew.”
There was something difficult to read in his companion’s would-be light voice. “You were reading my mind?”
“No, of course not,” he said quickly. “It wasn’t like that at all. Nothing that detailed or specific. I could just…see your concern for him.” He shook his head helplessly. “I don’t know how else to explain it.”
He glanced over at last, and saw his grandmother watching him intently. He gave a reluctant smile.
“Sometimes I do seem to see things other people don’t. I think…I think it might be part of my power.”
“Bravo, Heath,” she said, a smile breaking across her own face. “I think that might be the first time I’ve ever heard you actually admit that you have magic.” Her gaze turned thoughtful. “The ability to see things other people don’t,” she mused. “It tallies with your excellent eyesight, doesn’t it?”
