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Corvan leans in. “Finley, I’m going to ask them to tell us everything they know about you. The Khaturians know a lot about magic; about ancient lore.”
The feeling of his hand against my back is the only thing keeping me sane right now.
I’m afraid.
Back there, at the edge of the valley, Corvan told me her name.
Aralya.
There’s a reason my coloring is so different to that of my brothers. There’s a reason father treats me with such disdain.
There’s a reason I’ve always felt rootless; like I don’t belong in a world where everything is measured by wealth and status and breeding… and theabilityto breed.
This is happening too fast, and it’s all orchestrated by Corvan.
I’ve lost control.
Not that I ever had control in the first place.
We reach a hut that’s three times as large as the others. Oval-shaped, it’s surrounded by a lagoon of pristine turquoise water carpeted with small lilypads. Elegant stems emerge between the floating leaves, bearing delicate white flowers.
I catch a glimpse of silver; a school of tiny fish darting beneath the surface.
The water’s so clear it could be glass.
A curved timber bridge leads to the entrance. As we reach it, Corvan stops and draws me close.
He turns to Sylhara. “Go inside. All of you. I will have a moment alone with myOrama.”
She gives us a curious look, then quietly nods.
The Khaturians disappear inside the tent in a soft murmur of voices and a flurry of furs and robes, leaving us standing together beside the lagoon; surrounded by snow and drenched in the bright sunlight.
Something’s wrong with Corvan’s face.
His skin… it’s turning red; blistering and peeling.
“Corvan,” I gasp. “What’s wrong?”
He touches the side of his face and smiles wryly. “Too much time out in the sun. The effects of your blood must be wearing off. Don’t you think your magic is powerful, though? To be able to protect me from the sun for so long… and even against the glare of the snow… it’s quite remarkable. Just like you.”
“You should be taking this more seriously, Corvan.” I quickly unwrap my scarf and offer it to him. “Here. Put this on.”
“I’ll be fine, but I appreciate your concern.” He takes the sky-blue scarf and wraps it around his face, covering his peeling skin.
The tent casts a small shadow. “Step into the shade,” I urge, suddenly filled with worry. It’s strange to see him vulnerable.
We step onto the small wooden bridge.
A fish flips out of the water, creating ripples on the surface.
“Sweet Finley,” Corvan murmurs. He looks down at me, and although I can’t see his expression right now, I can feel his tenderness. He gently caresses the side of my face. I’m relieved he’s wearing gloves. I don’t want his hands to burn, too.
“What is it, Corvan?”
“I’m sorry.” He places his hands on my shoulders. “In such a short time, you’ve dealt with so much. The journey to Tyron. Your brother’s injuries. Your idiotic father.Me.And here I am, leading you into this immense truth when you aren’t yet ready for it. If I could give you all the time in the world, I would, but there’s no room for complacency. Things can become precarious too quickly, and your heritage is far too important to ignore.”
Everything is different now. I’m not just a simple baron’s daughter from Ruen.
