“No, of course not.” I gestured for her to lead the way, curious in spite of everything that had just happened.
She led us down the street, Captain Layna keeping pace beside her while the other three guards formed a close circle around me. The fence railings had disappeared, the buildings now standing close to the road so that passersby could admire the wares displayed behind the wide glass windows. We continued past most of them, however, Bryony ignoring her usual favorites such as the store she claimed made the best gowns in the kingdom or Empire.
When she finally stopped, it was in front of a smaller shop, one of the furthest from the palace. I could see further down South Road where homes once again replaced the shops, these ones tall and built close together in a uniform weathered gray stone. But the houses of the commonborn population, while crowded compared to the mage mansions, still looked bright and cheerful thanks to the many window boxes overflowing with color and life.
Bryony didn’t glance down the street, though, pushing through the door of the store with vigor.
“There’s only one thing I absolutely have to get,” she said over her shoulder to me. “A gift for your mother for hosting me all summer. I know my parents brought all sorts of things from the Empire when they came to visit, but I want to give her something specifically from me.”
“That’s thoughtful,” I said. “But you know she loves having you here. She considers you family, after all.”
“All the more reason to give her a gift.” Bryony smiled brightly.
The store owner hurried forward to greet us with a low bow. “Can I help you?” She looked eager as her eyes took me in, along with my four trailing guards.
“I’m looking for a gift,” Bryony explained.
The lady started to point toward the display of intricate glass creations she had set up in her window, but Bryony continued.
“I’d like something made by a commonborn. Without the use of power.”
“Oh?” The woman assumed a thoughtful expression as she surveyed the inside of her store. She must have been confused by the request, but she knew better than to question a customer.
“I would recommend having a look at that set of shelves over there.” She pointed to the ones she meant. “All those works were made by a prominent master glassblower right here in Corrin.” Her face turned proud. “He’s considered the leading master on glassblowing, and he isn’t even sealed.”
“Thank you.” Bryony moved over to examine the pieces which looked exquisite and startlingly detailed, even if they lacked some of the more impossible designs of the pieces displayed in the window.
“Are those made by mages?” I asked the storekeeper, pointing at the window. “Or by commonborns with mage compositions?”
“Both,” she said. “I’ll admit it’s not a common practice, but glass blowing is captivating for some. There are a few mages over the years who have fallen in love with the art form and create themselves. It’s demanding physical work, though, and once they stop, some will form partnerships with commonborn glassblowers and provide them with compositions. Or sell them to a number of different glassblowers. We don’t need the compositions to create the more basic, practical items, but they are incredibly useful for more artistic creations like these.”
“What about this one?” Bryony asked, calling us both over to her side of the store. “Surely this wasn’t created without power.”
The storekeeper chuckled. “No, indeed, you’re correct there.”
I examined the striking piece which depicted two clear glass forearms rising vertically from the base of the piece and twining together, the two hands clasped. The entwined fingers gripped a long green stem, topped with a beautiful flower in vibrant red and orange. The base of the stem disappeared into the hands, long trails of green snaking down through the clear glass of the hands and arms as if the roots of the plant came from inside the people.
“Was this one not made by the master you mentioned?” I asked.
“Oh, no, it was,” she said. “But he didn’t make it alone. Last summer a retired grower sought him out. Apparently she had long appreciated his work. And since her retirement had relieved her of her duties to her discipline, she spent several months learning about glassblowing and experimenting with him before returning to her home estate. They created a number of stunning pieces together, but this is the only one I have left.”
“It’s perfect,” Bryony said with decision.
“I thought you wanted something made without power,” I said as the storekeeper hurried to securely wrap the piece.
“I did.” Bryony watched her purchase being prepared. “But this is even better. Aunt Elena was telling us how she often feels disconnected from her commonborn origins these days, and I wanted something to remind her of the commonborns and her history with them. But this is absolutely perfect. A commonborn and a mage coming together to create new life and growth. It could be a sculpture of her own story.”
I slipped my arm around Bryony’s shoulder and squeezed, tears in my eyes. “She’s going to love it.”
“I hope so.” Bryony paid the storekeeper, taking careful charge of the delicate parcel.
We exited the store together, starting back toward the palace. We walked in silence, my thoughts taking a darker turn. My mother possessed a unique gift, and she had used it to free her kingdom from war and bring new hope and voice to the commonborn people. Now I, too, had discovered I possessed a unique gift, but all I could do with it was subvert the workings of others.
My mood, buoyed up by the excitement of my success at the work site, crashed. If all I could do was fix others’ mistakes—relying on happening to be in the right place at the right time—then my own legacy was likely to be insignificant. I had barely even managed to practice with my new ability over the summer, hampered by keeping it a secret. Bryony could only give others her energy, a useful skill but limited for my purposes—and not something I could ask of her more than occasionally.
I itched to experiment with a range of different power compositions, but I could hardly go around taking control of other mages’ workings around the palace. My parents had noticed my frustration and strange moods but seemed to have decided not to ask me directly.
Their decision might have had something to do with Darius, fueled by my mother’s intuition. Whether it was hints dropped by Bryony, or something I’d said while relaying Darius’s request for support to my aunt, but somehow my mother had grasped the basic idea that I was far from indifferent to the Kallorwegian prince. And that we had not left our relationship in a positive place.
Whether she forbore from questioning me out of respect for what she no doubt considered my adolescent feelings or because she and my father were dismayed at the idea that I could possibly have romantic interest in a member of the Kallorwegian court, I wasn’t sure. But I appreciated it all the same. I wasn’t ready to talk about Darius to anyone, even my mother.
Forbearance was not one of Bryony’s strengths, however, and as soon as we arrived back at the palace, she dragged me back to the guest suite she had been occupying for the weeks of our summer break. As soon as the door closed behind us, she carefully put down her new purchase and then pounced.