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Which felt … true. Though how could Kerrigan judge what was and wasn’t truth around a girl who could spin the truth? And yet she knew what it was to be scared of her own abilities. To have her spirit magic consume her to the point where she had nearly died without a teacher. Danae would be the same if she kept it locked away forever.
“You need to learn control, not suppression,” Kerrigan said.
“Who would teach me that? The only other truthtellers are enslaved to the Doma, as I would be if anyone found out.” Danae crossed her arms over her body in fear. “I’m glad you were able to break the spell. I wanted you as a friend. Not … not what happened.”
“A friend. Yet I am enslaved here.”
Danae sighed. “If it makes you feel better, my father has no intention of selling you. He just didn’t want Tarcus to have you.”
“Then, he should let me go.”
“You won’t trust him until he does?”
“Are you using your truth magic on me again?”
“No,” she whispered.
Kerrigan pulled herself out of the welcoming waters. She didn’t know what to make of Danae. She liked the girl. She might have even wanted to trust her before what had happened. The magic wasn’t Danae’s fault. And she seemed genuinely concerned by her own magical outburst. But it was just one too many things all at once.
She was glad that she hadn’t told Danae about her mother here in Domara. Even magic hadn’t been able to pry that from her mouth.
“Kerrigan, I am sorry.”
“I know,” she said and then grabbed her dress and stalked from the room.
10
The Training Yard
Theo grinned next to her in the hall. He’d finished his meal and had his bright blue eyes on her. “You shouldn’t be plotting an escape.”
She lifted her eyes to meet his, letting her spoon hover before her mouth. “What makes you think I’m planning an escape?”
Danae had tried to repair the damage done in the baths by delivering new Andine garments in green to match her eyes. Kerrigan took them and closed the door again. Constantine had shown up to tell her that she was to start taking classes with Danae the next morning. Apparently, she had tutors come in from Eivreen at regular intervals to keep them up to date on what was happening in Domaran high society.
Kerrigan was too intrigued to decline. Though Danae’s presence was a thorn rather than the balm it had been when she arrived a day earlier. And Theo wasn’t wrong. She was contemplating how to get out of this situation. Because she couldn’t stay here.
“Who wouldn’t be?” he asked with a laugh.
She set her spoon down into the oatmeal. “Have you tried it?”
“Sure,” he said, leaning back and crossing his arms behind his head. “Got wicked magic burn for days afterward, and as soon as I was conscious, the general had me out running laps. Deserved it. I should have known better.”
“He caught you?”
“In case you haven’t noticed, there’s a fifteen-foot wall around the entire complex. It’s magicked with the kurios’s powers,” he said as if that should make sense to her. “You’d be stupid to try.”
“So, you were stupid?”
“Absolutely,” he said with a smile.
“You seem happier about staying now.”
He shrugged. “Tournaments make it all worth it, love.”
“What are the tournaments like?”
“Oh, they’re brilliant. Hundreds of competitors from all over Domara flock to Carithian or one of the outlying cities if it isn’t as big of a prize. We don’t normally go to those since Carithian is so close. The general will choose who competes in which fights. If we win, we split the prize money. Part of it goes to the general and part to us to pay for our eventual freedom. Since he’s usually in a much better mood after a win, he lets us go carousing.” He winked at her for emphasis on what exactly he meant. As if she was unaware.
“I see. Does anyone actually gain their freedom?” she asked dubiously.
“Sure. We’ve had a couple of guys win it and choose to leave, to start a family. That sort of thing. The general is fair,” he said with a resolute nod. Then, he rose to his feet. “So, I’d hold off on the magic burn and see what kind of deal he offers you.”
“He’s not going to let me fight.”
Theo laughed boisterously. “Let you fight? No, love, you’re not a warrior.”
She clenched her hands into fists, contemplating how exactly she could prove to these idiot men that she was a warrior. A damn good one at that. And their backward views on women were exactly that—backward.
But he just tipped her chin with his knuckles. “I’ll let you fight me though, if you really want to.” His wink was all the confirmation she needed that he didn’t mean fighting at all.
