Councilor Ludvig grinned, making him look younger than his seventy-odd years. “Is it wrong to inquire after my favorite student? Asha much younger than you have had more experience in romance, despite having done much less for Kion. I’ve kissed a pretty asha a time or two myself back in my prime.”
“I’m…far too busy to be thinking about that.”
“Poppycock.” The councilor tore off a piece of tanūr bread. “Balance must be struck. You are still so young, my dear, and in danger of being overworked if it were up to your asha-ka mistress. Enjoy your youth. Do not let harridans like Parmina convince you otherwise. And also,” he added, chewing thoughtfully, “I have a wonderful nephew. He is only a couple of years older than you…”
I groaned. “Thank you, Councilor, but I already have my hands full juggling relationships with people I know without adding anyone new to the mix.”
“So I presume there has been progress between you and the prince?”
“Absolutely not!” My cheeks colored. “He’s a prince! And I’m just…I’m a…”
A bone witch. Feared and hated everywhere but in Kion. And even in Kion, I frequently felt that we were entertainment first and people second.
The councilor only nodded. He’d been in politics longer than I had been alive and knew the lay of the land, so to speak. “Yet you are drawn to Prince Kance.”
“Well, he’s kind. He’s the first person besides Mykaela and my brother who does not care that I am a bone witch. And he cares for his people. Really cares, not just parrots what will appease his subjects. He’s sincere about what he believes in. And he’s very…” This was harder to admit. “He’s very nice looking in the face. But not just in the face—overall. I mean—”
He chuckled. “I get the point. But marriages between asha and royalty have happened before. Even with Dark asha. It is not so uncommon.”
“It doesn’t matter. He has enough trouble helping his father run Odalia as it is.” And there’s an azi inside my head, milord, I added silently. Everyone knows daeva are a weapon of the Faceless, and I am wielding the most dangerous of them all. I don’t want the prince involved. The shadows in my head shifted, agreeing.
“How are your friendships with the other boys in court then? Prince Khalad?”
Only Councilor Ludvig would still refer to Kance’s brother as a prince, though his heartforging abilities had put an end to his claim to the throne. Khalad and I had grown close the year I became a full-fledged asha, and no other asha had his unique ability to forge memories into heartsglass. “Pretty good,” I said, “though Khalad’s even busier with work than I am.”
“And what about Kalen?”
I stared at him, then started to laugh. “Kalen? He still hates me.”
“Hate is a strong word, Tea.”
“He does. He ignores me whenever he can, and when he can’t, he talks down to me in that infuriatingly passive-aggressive way he has. I can never do anything right, if you listened to him, and if he could sever my ties to Prince Kance, he’d do it, then expect me to kowtow to his demands without protest.”
“Have you done anything to arouse his enmity?”
“I haven’t kept my resentment hidden exactly,” I admitted sourly. “And I might have ignored his orders on occasion, on account of him being a jerk with no redeeming qualities.”
I paused. Councilor Ludvig was staring at something behind me, his expression bemused. I took a deep breath. “I suppose he’s behind me.”
“Right on the first try.” Kalen leaned against the door, hands folded across his chest. As was customary for Deathseekers, he was dressed all in black, like that was supposed to make him look more impressive. His heartsglass swung from his neck, a bright silver. He gave the Isteran politician a small, respectful nod. “Lord Ludvig, it’s good to see you again.”
“Likewise, Kalen.”
“How is King Rendorvik?”
“Refusing my advice, as he is wont to do nowadays. How are the prince and his father?”
“Doing well. Please send our regards to his Highness.” Kalen turned to me. “Kance wants to see you now,” he said shortly, then walked back out.
“I’d advise you not to get on his bad side,” Councilor Ludvig said as I rose to my feet, careful not to trip over my dress. “Kalen is Prince Kance’s closest confidante after all. Perhaps if you opened up to him, he’d relent.”
I sighed, then leaned over to give the councilor a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. “Given that his point of contention is me, I believe the point is moot.”
• • •
“Wait up!” I yelled, hurrying after Kalen as he stalked back to the castle, attracting more than a few curious stares. “I’m sorry for what I said, but I’m not the only one at fault. You’ve been nothing but rude to me since we met.”
“I have no need to explain myself to you,” he said stiffly.
“I thought we’d reached some kind of understanding.” Which was true. He’d been almost friendly in the weeks after we’d fought the azi at Lake Strypnyk, but that fragile amiability disappeared and he was back to criticizing how I fought, what I did, and what I said.
“You thought wrong.”
I glared at him. “Out with it.”
“Out with what?”
“You heard me listing what I don’t like about you. It’s not very sporting of me, I know. So now it’s your turn. Say something about me that you don’t like.”
“This is not the place or the time—”
“If you had your way, there will never be the place or the time for it because you’re as dense as a rock on Mithra’s Wall, with the immovability to match. See? It’s not that hard to share your feelings. Let it all out. Give me just three things—”
He glowered but took the bait. “You’re overconfident. It always gets you in trouble. And you’re irresponsible. You don’t think through your actions and then expect someone else to bail you out—your brother, usually. You have this annoying way of scrunching up your nose when you don’t like what you’re being told to do, which makes you look even more ridiculous.”
I clapped a hand over the bridge of my nose, suddenly aware I was doing exactly that. “Fine, you’ve said your—”
“You never listen. To anyone. You’re slow to take advice, especially at sword practice. You always think life will turn out for the better, although it never does, but that doesn’t stop you from making the same mistakes again—”