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“I didn’t mean forever,” said Heath, a snap to his voice that he instantly regretted. Taking a breath, he moderated his tone. “I’m not going to end my friendship with Merletta, Reka. That’s never going to happen. And if you’re not willing to tell me why you disapprove of the friendship, then you can keep your scaled, fire-breathing mouth shut about it.”
Reka blinked his orb-like eyes. Heath knew no other human alive would dare speak to a dragon so. But he and Reka had always been a special case, and he felt no fear, even as he saw his friend hover on the edge between offense and amusement.
“Human folly,” the dragon said at last, apparently tipping toward the latter. “My mouth does not have scales.”
Chapter Fourteen
Although he’d instantly refuted the dragon’s suggestion that he was afraid of his magic, the comment about consulting his grandmother lingered in Heath’s mind long after his training session with Reka. Heath’s elderly grandparents had returned some weeks before from their annual summer trip to Kyona—the kingdom of Princess Jocelyn’s birth—and Heath hadn’t made time for a proper conversation with his grandmother since then.
The following day he found himself wandering toward the castle, although he wasn’t expected for any formal duties. The princess wasn’t hard to track down, and as always, she expressed herself delighted to have a private chat with him.
When they were settled in her receiving room, a steaming pot of tea before them, it took no time at all for a few shrewd grandmotherly questions to bring the whole tale tumbling out.
“So Reka described your magic as dormant,” the princess mused, settling back into her seat with her teacup cushioned between two wrinkled hands. “That’s an interesting way of putting it. I always said I could sense magic in you, but I had no explanation for why it was so…elusive.” She smiled warmly at him, a hint of apology in her eyes. “I suppose I thought it might be weak—limited to slightly sharpened eyesight—and that was why it was hard to detect.”
“No need to be sorry for that,” Heath told her frankly. “I was never sensitive about it, even before I knew what power I had. Not that I can fully claim to know it now either,” he added.
“Yes, I always admired your grace on the topic,” his grandmother informed him.
He smiled in gratitude for the compliment, but the expression was half-hearted. “People always assumed I was upset or embarrassed about apparently not having magic when the rest of my family did,” he told her. “But I truly wasn’t. It wasn’t that I thought magic was bad or anything. But it wasn’t something I felt I needed. Laura’s magic is wonderful, but that benefited me from outside the power at least as much as it benefited her from inside.”
He paused, considering. “Father’s magic I could see the use of, but it just seemed to create a lot of work, and high expectations from the crown. And Percival’s…” Heath shrugged. “Well, he’d never believe it, probably, but I never coveted his strength. I thought it made him more arrogant, but less genuinely useful a person than if he’d just been a normal strong man.”
“Hm.” The elderly princess pondered his words. “I can certainly see your point there. It seems to me that something in you has been rejecting, or at least resisting, the magic since it first appeared. I accept your word for it that you’re not afraid of it. The fact that you didn’t embrace it because you didn’t think you needed it is admirable, in one sense. I can respect that. But it’s also false, ultimately. Magic was given to you. You can’t just throw it away because you don’t think it’s necessary. It’s a part of you. And it undoubtedly has a role to play in your life, and in the world around you. The truth is, the ones who least feel the need for power and influence are often those most to be trusted with it.”
Heath was silent as he thought all this over. “Somehow I feel I’m being given a compliment I don’t deserve,” he said ruefully. He sighed. “It’s become more complicated now, anyway. I might not have wanted power or influence, but I suppose I got it when the king gave me this position. A position based on the premise that I don’t have magic, and can therefore bridge the gap.”
“I see what you mean,” nodded his grandmother. “But none of that is a reason for you to resist your magic.”
“I know,” he assured her.
He didn’t tell her he was training regularly with Reka, because doing so would be admitting to a breach of the king’s restrictions, and might put her in a difficult position. But surely she understood it from what he’d already said.
“Speaking of your liaison position,” said his grandmother, “I’d formed the impression that you weren’t engaging anymore, and I must say I’ve been glad to see you spending more time with Lachlan lately.”
Heath broke into a genuine grin at the thought of the clandestine investigation he and his second cousin had entered into together, and the crown prince’s evident inner battle. Heath didn’t even need to activate his extra vision to sense that the prince was torn between enjoying the excitement and wondering if he was betraying his duty.
Heath’s grandmother obviously caught the expression, because she raised a questioning eyebrow.
“Yes, we work surprisingly well together once the formality is stripped away,” Heath acknowledged.
She smiled back at him, her lined face warmer and more pleasant than any Heath knew, with one significant exception.
“He’s a good boy,” said the princess indulgently. “Brielle and I were speaking of him just this morning. He’ll be a good king one day, but probably all the better if he gives himself more of a chance to be young, and have meaningful friendships not based on his title. I think you’re good for him, and Brielle agrees.”
Heath blinked, taken aback at this image of his grandmother talking about him with Prince Lachlan’s grandmother, also known as the dowager queen.
“Don’t let him be too stiff, if you can help it,” his grandmother added.
Heath nodded, half of him glad of the permission to keep prodding Prince Lachlan away from the rigid formality he’d been schooled in, and half of him dreading the idea of a further responsibility being placed on his own shoulders. He didn’t want to be the one in charge of making sure the crown prince was relaxed enough to be a good future king. But looking around at the court, he didn’t see any other contenders for genuine friendship with the prince. Prince Lachlan held himself too aloof.
“The truth is,” Heath blurted out, “we’re trying to figure out who was really behind the attack on Percival.”
His grandmother lowered her tea, staring at him in astonishment. “Lachlan is investigating that with you? Even though his father has dismissed it as a robbery gone wrong?”
Heath nodded. “You won’t tell the king, will you?” he asked anxiously.
“No, I certainly won’t,” she said. “I don’t need you or anyone else to tell me that Lachlan would never do anything to hurt Valoria, or the crown. If my nephew wasn’t so stubborn right now…” She trailed off, apparently deciding not to speak her frustrations with the king aloud, even to Heath. “Well, never mind that,” she said briskly. “Tell me what you’ve found.”
