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Her voice had cracked toward the end, and she hoped he hadn't noticed.
The crease in his brow deepened. "Do you mean, if you bear a daughter that is a catalyst, such as yourself?" He leaned forward in his seat. "You do know that any daughter you bear me will likely be an elf? It is my understanding that your mother had been an unusual case, having given birth to two daughters such as herself."
There had been nothing unusual about it. It had simply been a matter of volume. Cera's mother had given birth to two catalysts out of the nineteen children she'd carried. Her other seventeen babies had been normal humans like their father. According to Cera's governess, her other siblings had been given to good families to be raised as normal children. According to her older sister, they'd been drowned in their first bathwater.
Cera considered her next words carefully. "Any daughter that is like me will be mine, as well as any child you perceive to be extraneous. I will—"
Isael cut her off. "We do not have extraneous children here." His frame seemed to grow larger before her. "And why do you think you would be suited to raise a child, given your own upbringing?"
Cera stiffened. "What do you know of my upbringing?"
"I know that your mother died the day you were born and your sister was sold off to the Kytan king only a few years later. Your so-called father and grandmother attempted to do the same to you from the moment you could conceive a child. I would not send you off on your own to raise a dog, let alone one of my children."
A kick to her gut would not have wounded her so. Cera searched her mind for a retort but found only grim resignation. An hour ago, she had known and accepted that she would have no agency when it came to the children she bore him. Why was it now so difficult to revert to that thinking?
Isael leaned back in his chair. If not for his air of dignity, she might have considered him to be slumping.
"I have spoken too harshly," he said, more to himself, than to her. "Understand that I would not keep you from your children. But here, the raising of children is a communal affair. Our children do not grow as quickly as human children. They require a great deal of investment, both from their parents and their teachers, over the course of many years. It is more than simply learning our traditions and our history. They must learn our magic as well."
Isael reached a hand across the table, stopping just above an unlit candle. No magical words or flamboyant gestures heralded the fire that sprung forth. With a twitch of one finger, the candle was lit and glowing with a vibrant flame. It danced on the wick for a moment, before Isael lifted his hand. The flame followed, departing the candle and taking the shape of a glowing orb. Isael's hand turned and he gestured toward the fireplace, as if he were granting the orb permission to pass. A second later, it did just that, darting across the room and disappearing beneath the logs in the hearth.
Her resentment wholly forgotten, Cera kept her eyes trained on Isael's hand, as if trying to deduce a magician's trick. Seconds later, a fire sprung to life in the hearth, casting a warm glow throughout the room.
"Youmadethe fire," she breathed. "I thought... Elven magic, it's supposed to manipulate the elements, not create them."
Isael leaned back once again, this time appearing to relax. "Then is it elven magic?"
He watched her, waiting patiently as she put the pieces together.
Elven magic, needed a conduit to act upon. An elf skilled in water magic could not conjure a storm, but a very powerful one may be able to draw the clouds closer together, prompting a light rainfall. Likewise with fire, they could not create it, but they could manipulate it.
Dragons had a similar brand of magic, except that they could, within their very bodies, create the element they controlled. Firekind dragons, the most ubiquitous, could spew fire across a town and then invoke the element, prompting it to grow and spread. And those were considered theleast powerfulof the dragons, along with their waterkind brethren, who were only a threat if you were at sea.
Earthkind were generally benevolent, but when their ire was stoked they could tear open the lands beneath a city. And windkind, blessedly almost extinct, had to be killed in their nests if there was any hope of defeating them.
Apart from dragons and elves, the only other major race to possess magic was the fae. Scholars had debated for centuries over whether the fae or the dragons had stronger magic, with no clear determination. Both races made a point of avoiding one another, to the extent that there were no credible tales of them engaging in battle. In fact, there weren't very many credible tales about either race. For the average Ateran, dragons and fae existed only in legends and history texts.
As with the elves, the magical aptitude of the fae was said to vary depending on which tribe they hailed from. Some were adept at manipulating the elements, while others were powerful enchanters. All of them could conjure the elements to some extent, but the most dangerous fae were supposedly the illusionists. They were said to lure men in and trap them in an illusory world of wonder and revelry, all while draining them of their life force.
"You're not a fae," she said, her words slow and unsure. "You're the high elven lord and you don't...look like a fae."
She was most unsure about the last part. Fae were famously beautiful, ethereal creatures, so long as they had you in the grip of their thrall. It was said that beneath the illusion, they were all hideous and grotesque wraiths, their bodies reflecting their true ages.
Did Isael smile?
No, not quite. But there was a spark of something in his eyes.
"I am not a fae," he agreed. "But I hail from house that recognized the benefits of introducing fae magic into its bloodlines."
Cera gasped as understanding dawned on her. "Ishalev—lev..."
"Ishvalier," he corrected, and now she was sure that he was smiling. "You know of my people?"
"Not really," she admitted, rubbing the back of her neck. "I only read of them in books about the war. The Draconic War is what we call it in Atera. The elves of Ish...Ishvalierwere the most powerful of the elves, on the frontline of every battle. That's why..."
She trailed off, unsure if it was possible to touch a sore nerve on such a man.
Isael's face betrayed nothing. "Why ours was first house to fall."
