“Excuse me,” Leisa murmured, and began backing away, but Evaraine stopped her by flinging one hand into the air.
“No, Leisa. I must ask that you stay. This discussion requires your presence as well.”
Another chance at a bath, gone.
Leisa moved closer to the princess and tried to make herself as small as possible. By the door, Roderick seemed to have come to the same conclusions and was doing his best to imitate a statue.
When the room was empty of all but the four of them, Evaraine spoke. “Father, it is time for you to stop treating me like a child.”
King Soren sighed as though she were asking for the impossible. “Please, Evaraine. We have trod this road many times.” He did not sit, but turned to regard her with an expression of exasperation mingled with sadness. “I protect you not because you are ignorant and incapable, but because I love you, and you are not well. I would not have you injured further by the cruelty of power and politics. Not if there is anything I can do to prevent it.”
“Yes,” said Evaraine, “and that is the problem, isn’t it?”
Soren appeared to be at a loss.
“You’re doing everything possible to prevent me from being hurt, and forgetting in the process that I am not the only one you are required to protect,” Evaraine pointed out. “Your kingdom also deserves your protection. Your subjects as well. How am I the only one who merits your concern? And how is my well-being so important that you would sacrifice anyone else’s to secure it?”
“You know why!” the king cried helplessly. “What else would you have me do?”
“Stop keeping me ignorant and helpless,” Evaraine said sternly. “Tell me the truth. Allow me a say in the decisions that affect my own life.”
Soren fell silent, then cast a swift glance at Leisa. “We cannot discuss this here,” he said finally. “Perhaps when this crisis is past…”
“No!” Evaraine leaped to her feet with an effort that drained the color from her face. She wavered for a moment, but steadied herself, and held up a hand to block her father’s efforts to assist her. “I am stronger than you pretend, Father. More capable, too. And someday, I will rule this kingdom in your place, but I do not know how because you keep things from me. Things I must know in order to learn how to make wise decisions. A moment like this is one where I need the most to understand how to think and act as a queen should, so please don’t shut me out.”
“But how can I…” the king muttered, before stopping himself.
“How can you what, Father?” Evaraine’s question was icy. “How can you contemplate a future where a weak, sickly child becomes queen of Farhall? How can you continue to keep me from finding out that your true purpose is to find someone to rule in my stead?”
“No, that is not what I meant!” he spluttered, but Leisa thought him less shocked at the accusation than perhaps he should have been.
“Then tell me what you meant!”
Leisa had never doubted Evaraine’s courage, but she hadn’t understood quite how much steel was hiding beneath the princess’s quiet demeanor.
And she wondered if maybe she didn’t finally have possession of the missing piece that would explain why the king kept his daughter in the dark.
Farhall welcomed mages, but they had never had a mage king or queen. Perhaps it would be seen as too much power concentrated in one place. Perhaps none of the royal family had ever had a talent for magic. But for whatever reason, the question of whether a royal mage would be accepted had never seemed to come up. Yet when Leisa considered what Zander let slip right before she fled from Garimore… Perhaps the issue had reared its head at last.
She didn’t intend to say anything, but in the tense silence that followed Evaraine’s plea, the pressure seemed to build until she finally just blurted it out.
“Is this about Evaraine’s magic?”
Three heads swiveled in unison to stare at her.
“About what?” King Soren asked softly.
The expression in his eyes froze Leisa to the core.
She’d wondered for days whether Zander might have been simply confused or mistaken. She’d even wondered whether he knew she wasn’t Evaraine. But the king’s stare held no surprise, and it definitely wasn’t mere curiosity.
It was hard and dangerous, the look of a predator whose offspring had just been threatened—a storm cat, whose kits were in danger.
Zander had not been wrong, but this had most definitely not been the time or place to bring it up.
“I’m sorry,” she said, dipping her head and looking at the ground. “I spoke out of place.”
“Leisa.” Evaraine’s voice shook. “What do you know of my magic? How do you know? I never use it, and I’ve told no one.”
Leisa lifted her gaze from the floor to meet the princess’s worried green eyes steadily. “Just to be clear, I don’t care whether you have magic or not, and I’m the last person who’s going to judge you for it. My own magic is so terrible that the king of Garimore believes I should be hunted down and executed for the sake of crimes it may someday lead me to commit. But Zander let it slip that you’re a mage. Because, apparently, no one told him I wasn’t actually you.”
Evaraine sat back down heavily and let her head fall against the cushions behind her.
“I should have known,” she whispered. “Should have expected this day would come. It is too difficult to hide such a curse from anyone once they are close.”
Was that why she kept everyone at arm’s length? Why she had no friends and rarely seemed to open her heart?
“It’s not so terrible,” Leisa found herself arguing. “The people of Farhall have no prejudice against mages. They simply haven’t been allowed to get to know you. I swear that once they know, they will accept you as you are.”
“No.” The princess’s tone was final. She lifted her head, and the plea in her eyes was unmistakable. “They cannot know. No one can. Leisa, you know that I trust you, but you must never speak of this to anyone, even in passing. I know you do not understand, but please accept that I cannot explain. I can only ask that you guard this secret with your very life.”
“Of course,” Leisa replied automatically. “My life is yours, Your Highness, and always has been.”
It was true, but Leisa’s mind was now running far, far ahead of her mouth.
If only that had been true a moment ago, before she blurted out what she knew. Evaraine trusted her—of course she would. The princess had been trusting Leisa with her life for years, so this was only another natural step. But King Soren?
His trust in her was likely already eroded by what he saw as her failures in Garimore. He might have withdrawn his anger, but not his disappointment. Would this put him over the edge again? What if he decided she was a threat to Evaraine?
“Father.” Evaraine had turned back to Soren, an edge of desperation in her voice. “This changes nothing. Surely you can see why you must let me in. Let me hear what Leisa has to say. The decision about Garimore affects me more than anyone else in Farhall, so please, give me a chance to be a part of it. You know I am willing to make sacrifices for our people, but please help me understand what must be done and why.”