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“Percival.” His soft voice cut across the clamor as wagers were placed on the new match being formed. Percival turned his head, responding more to the quiet plea than he had to Heath’s anger. “I’m trying to help.”
Percival met his eyes in silence for a long moment. “Trying to help who, Heath?”
He turned back to his opponents, and Heath fell back a step, feeling like he’d been slapped.
He didn’t linger to watch Percival continue to showcase his abilities. But neither could he bring himself to return to his home and admit to his parents that, if anything, he’d made things worse. It would just reinforce his father’s concern that Heath was unfit for his responsibilities.
The crowd of onlookers parted for him as he left the training yard, many of them throwing him furtive glances. He didn’t meet anyone’s eye. He had no desire to know what the spectators thought of his confrontation with Percival. But he couldn’t avoid noticing, with a sinking heart, that even more people were running toward the scene, eager to watch the spectacle.
Unable to think of anywhere else to go, Heath made his way to the castle and sent a message with a servant, notifying Prince Lachlan of his return. He thought vaguely of seeking Brody and Bianca out again, but to his surprise, the servant came back in search of him immediately.
“His Highness will see you now, My Lord,” the servant said, dipping his head. “If you’ll follow me?”
Heath did so, and soon found himself in a handsome room he’d never entered before. Prince Lachlan was sitting behind a large mahogany desk, and a quick glance around convinced Heath that he was in the crown prince’s personal study.
The prince gestured Heath to a seat opposite the desk, and the servant bowed himself out.
“Your Highness,” said Heath respectfully, as soon as the door closed behind the servant. “I hope my message didn’t get mixed up. I didn’t intend to interrupt you, just to let you know I’d arrived.”
“No, your message was clear,” said the prince gravely. “But I wished to speak with you. I hope I don’t inconvenience you.”
“Of course not,” said Heath quickly. “I’m at your disposal.”
Prince Lachlan watched him enigmatically for a moment, one finger tapping on the smooth surface of his desk. Seated here, surrounded by neatly stacked parchments and framed by an intricately drawn map of Valoria on the wall directly behind him, the crown prince looked older, and less accessible.
“I trust your break was pleasant?” Prince Lachlan said at last.
“It was, thank you,” Heath said, hoping that his wariness didn’t show. “But I’m ready to work now. I have some ideas about the loyalty ceremony, and I—”
“Do you?” Prince Lachlan cut him off, eyebrow raised. “I would love to hear them.”
“Well,” said Heath, feeling a little rattled by the prince’s manner, so different from their last meeting, “I was trying to think of ways to make it feel like a celebration as well as a ceremony. In Kyona, it wasn’t unusual for the power-wielders of my generation to perform little displays of their abilities, for the entertainment of the populace. It was always with the permission of King Eamon, of course, and it was very popular. I wondered if King Matlock would consider coordinating such a showcase as part of the ceremony. It might make our magic seem a little more accessible to everyone else, and hopefully the power-wielders would feel valued if His Majesty invited them to demonstrate their skills.”
Prince Lachlan stared at him for an uncomfortably long time, his expression inscrutable. “And what form would these displays take?” he asked at last. “Give me an example of the type of thing you pictured.”
“Well, my family’s talents are a little bit difficult to work into a ceremony like that,” acknowledged Heath. “But my cousin Brody, for example, could manipulate flowers, perhaps cause a bed of our emblem to weave itself into a wreath to present to the king. Or Bianca could play music on a set of wind chimes, or Jasmine could—”
“Lord Heath,” Prince Lachlan interrupted again. He stood up, striding to the window and putting his back to Heath as he looked out of it.
Heath blinked after him, wondering if he was supposed to follow.
“Have you spoken to your brother since your return?”
Heath’s wariness tripled, and he took a moment to consider his answer. The last thing he intended to do was carry tales about Percival to the crown. But he also wasn’t going to lie to Prince Lachlan and pretend he hadn’t seen his brother.
“I spoke with him very briefly,” he said. “We haven’t had the chance to discuss the ceremony.”
Prince Lachlan turned quite suddenly, his eyes searching Heath’s face shrewdly.
“You are making a genuine suggestion then, about the ceremony?”
“Of course, Your Highness,” said Heath, nonplussed. “What else would I be making?”
The prince let out a sigh, and crossed back to his desk, lowering himself into the chair almost wearily. “I very much want to believe that you’re being honest with me, Lord Heath.”
“I am,” Heath insisted. “I don’t understand what you mean.”
Prince Lachlan sighed again. “Then I’ll be honest with you, and acknowledge that your suggestion is a good one. Had you made it a week ago, I would have wholeheartedly endorsed it to my father.”
