Mage Mira was promoted to lead mage in the King’s Regiment. Much to my chagrin she was my direct commander. I had only just come into my new role, and thanks to the Montfort attack she refused to send me even outside the palace gates. My new service was limited to guarding the Council of Magic’s official chamber.
Four of the seven days each week, I spent dawn until dusk securing its entrance, growing more restless with each passing hour. The longer I spent watching Darren and the other two Colored Robes, Karina for Restoration and Yves for Alchemy, come and go for their meetings with Blayne and his new circle of advisors, the more I grew to resent my role, and in some ways myself.
He was better. It was the first sentence that came to mind when I woke. And it was the last before I went to bed. I hated myself for even thinking it, but every time I grew restless, every time Mira barked at me to stop my complaints, it was there.
If I were just a boy, and you were just a girl… If that were true I wouldn’t be trapped in the palace. I wouldn’t be “too valuable to send out on missions,” as Mira had sneered. I wouldn’t be serving as a sentry; I would be out doing things. Making a difference. Blayne had promised me as soon as we went to war I would be able to take on a more active duty, and he had made an effort to include me in his war council meetings on my days off… but it wasn’t enough.
In all fairness, the whole of Jerar had grown silent as a front. Rebel attacks had ceased in the south; no more raids to the north. There wasn’t action to be had, anywhere. Every pair of eyes was trained on Caltoth as we waited for good news from King Joren of Pythus.
A rampant hate was spreading across the countryside like the plague. Our king had been cut down in cold blood. Just a year before our stronghold, attacked. The Caltothians were ruthless, relentless in their pursuit of our land.
Any reluctance to war had disappeared under the latest attack.
Darren was at its head. Following his father’s funeral, the prince had channeled his grief into rage. Rage that boiled over into his work. I hardly ever saw him outside the Council doors. Every waking moment was spent at his brother’s side. Daring the rebels of Jerar to try an attempt again, daring Caltoth to send its army now. His mother and father had been murdered, his brother barely left to live. The Black Mage of Jerar was ready to lead us to war, and I was ready to serve.
Our enemies had to pay. Those heartless, faceless others who had stolen so much. It was a fire consuming the dark. Fanning us with its flames. Searing a brand right across our hearts.
Perhaps that was why I didn’t notice when one walked right through the palace doors.
Chapter Sixteen
“Derrick?” I stopped dead in my tracks. Paige’s blunt practice sword hit me across the stomach, hard. I barely noticed.
My little brother was standing behind the spectator glass of the palace’s indoor training courts.
“Surprise, big sister.” He gave me a small smile and my heart did a flip. “Did you miss me?”
My casted polearm vanished, and I all but slipped across the marble floor as I ran to meet my brother in the stands. No one else was present except my knight who had returned to her own warm-ups now that I had stopped our practice. The rest of the court was still asleep. I would have been too, if I had been able. Unfortunately my many late hours of restless duty had left me unable to sleep for more than a few hours at a time.
“What are you doing here?” I threw my arms around him, for a moment forgetting that I was covered in sweat. “Why aren’t you in Ferren?”
“I felt terrible after I left Montfort.” His voice was muffled. “After what happened I realized the person I was really mad at was myself. I—I was punishing you for something that wasn’t your fault—”
“Derrick.” I pulled back. “I’m so sorry about Alex, I never—”
“I know.” He cut me off. “I knew then, too, but I was so angry I just didn’t care… After I returned to the keep I started to think about that night. Nine people were murdered, and my own sister could have been one of them. I wouldn’t have been there to save you because I was too busy sulking like a child.” Derrick drew a deep breath. “I would have never forgiven myself. So I wrote Darren and begged a position on the palace regiment.”
“You did?” He had never mentioned it.
Derrick nodded, his arms tightening around my waist. “I couldn’t let anything happen to my sister. He understood and I-I think he wanted you to have some family here… so you wouldn’t feel so alone. He mentioned you’d had a hard time adjusting to the palace.” My lungs constricted, just a little. Darren had noticed. All this time I had been envying his role, and he had been worrying over me. “I now serve with you on the King’s Regiment. I’ve a cot in the barracks outside. I reported to their lead soldier last night—I was so tired it took me until this morning to come find you. I checked your chamber first but the guards told me you were in the practice court with her.” His grin turned teasing. “Neither of you has changed one bit.”