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I played with the end of my braid, thinking about what she said. “I will try to find a balance. How do they view hearth casters?”
“A sizable minority of the population has remained traditional in their habits. As long as you respect spell crafter traditions and take part in them when you can, there will be no problem. Important figures such as lady Aelida and the lord Mandraes are still hearth casters. Don’t push any agenda and things will be fine.”
Don’t push any agenda. Right. I could do that.
I pressed my lips together. “How will the Elves react to my past at Bodrum University?”
Their hatred of Werewolves was well known. Would that hinder me?
“That will benefit you. The Elves respect education and are always looking for talented individuals. They will be interested in your time at the university and what you learned there. Many of them have visited Izmir. Emphasize the ambition and intellect that led you there. It will reflect well on you. Don’t remind them of your friendships.”
“Do you have questions?” the Caid asked.
I shook my head. I couldn’t think of anything else.
“Thank you for your time.”
“Of course. Good luck, Princess Thimsal. We are all counting on you.”
Princess. The title felt strange to me. But I supposed it was something I would get used to.
∞∞∞
The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the city. I walked down the street, taking in the sights and sounds of my neighborhood. It was a far cry from the bustling center of the Midar, but it had its charm.
The buildings were close together, with laundry hanging from windows and vendors selling their wares on the sidewalks. The smell of spices and cooking filled the air, along with the sound of people talking and laughing.
I would miss this when I moved to the Aeglire.
The cold palace was nothing like this. It would be lonely there, with no support. I had friends here, people who cared about me. But my duty was to my people, and so I would go.
Turning around the corner, I walked home. Children played in the streets and their mothers chatted with each other. They looked up as I passed, nodding their heads in greeting. Tilila ran up to me, hugging me around the waist.
“Thimsal! You’re home!”
I ruffled her hair fondly. “Yes, I am.”
“Did you bring us anything?” Tilila asked, hope shining in her eyes.
I smiled and pulled out a bag of sweets from my pocket. “I brought you these.”
Her face lit up, and she reached for the bag eagerly. “Thank you!”
“You’re welcome.”
I watched her run off to share her treasure with her friends. Their eyes widened in delight when they saw the bag, and soon they were all tearing into it.
Entering my house, I put away my coat. It was small, but cozy. A pan was simmering on the stove, and my mother sat at the table stitching a dress.
“Welcome home.”
I kissed her cheek. “Hello, mother.”
“How was your day? Your dinner is waiting for you.”
I sat down at the table. “It was good. I’m starving.”
She stood up and served me a bowl, and I dug in eagerly. The couscous was delicious, and the vegetables were cooked to perfection. I moaned in pleasure as I ate, and my mother laughed.
