"We did not return to the Academy for two months to listen to you romance your factionmates, Apprentice Ian! If you can't pay attention to your studies then you clearly have too much time on your hands. I want you mucking the stables until we depart next month." Master Byron's irritated voice cut through the slow murmur of the rest of our class.
I felt a twinge of satisfaction as the curly-haired third-year returned to his table with Darren at the corner of the room. It had been hard to ignore the way Ian kept touching Lynn's hand, or the way she blushed whenever he did. The two had been carrying on a shy romance for weeks now and since she was my mentor there had been no escape. It was much worse because I kept wondering if that could have been me, and then I spent the rest of the time hating myself.
Each mentor-mentee was supposed to be plotting strategy for the Master of Combat's current problem. We were given thirty minutes each time to trade suggestions and research using the books the Academy servants had provided. Then we presented our findings to the class going around in a circle. Each time Master Byron chose a winning approach, citing a group's merits and weaknesses for desert combat.
Lynn gave me an embarrassed smile. "I'm sorry, Ryiah, I know I shouldn't be talking to him. I just can't help myself!"
The sweet apology should have made me smile, but instead it just sent stabbing pains down my spine. I felt an unnecessary irritation at my mentor and I knew it wasn't sourced by logic. "I understand," I heard myself say coldly. Be nice! I swallowed and forced myself to say with more warmth, "What do you think about a flash flood casting?"
"It's perfect!"
We finished the exercise and then watched as Master Byron tore apart everyone's solution but Darren's. The prince's plan wasn't always the best, but even if it wasn't you would never know from the way the master praised his "insightful thoughts." It was a group effort but it was clear the man had nothing to say about the non-heir's partner.
And, of course, the man had even less to say about the girls. Whenever one of us was up Byron would immediately look bored, and then he would spend the next twenty minutes picking away at our strategy.
"Why does he hate women so much?" I complained to Ella and Lynn later that evening. I had avoided looking over at Ian the whole meal.
"You really don't know?" Loren slid into his seat beside Ella, grinning. From the way his eyes danced I knew he had a story to tell.
"Byron grew up in one of those old families that didn't think women belonged in battle. His great grandfather was actually the Council of Magic's biggest adversary when they decided to change their ruling to let them in… Anyway, fifteen years ago Byron was one of the top contenders in the last Candidacy. He made it into the top three but when he dueled Kara, one of the best Combat mages in the Crown's Army, he lost. Marius won, of course, but Byron was so upset over losing to a woman that he left his wife… There are rumors that he still harasses the Council to this day exclude women from mage studies."
"But he trains women every day! How did he end up a master?"
"Because whether or not he's fair, he's good at what he does. The local regiments all praise the apprentices that have come from his term – male or female."
I made a face.
Ella managed to say exactly what I was thinking. "Well at least he's not the Black Mage. I don't think Ryiah or I would even be here right now if he had been on the Council."
A half-hour later I was depositing my tray when Darren approached me.
I started to push past but he caught my sleeve.
I stared at him. "What do you want?"
"Did I do something wrong?" Darren was studying my face. "You haven't said one word to me since that night in Ishir."
Was I the one bothering him? "I have nothing to say to you." I made way to leave.
"Ryiah." Darren reached down to grab my wrist. The second his hand made contact my skin tingled. My heart began to race, slamming against my chest.
I swallowed and hated myself for liking it. Like Ian, the prince was off-limits. I was tired of my traitorous heart wanting things that were taken.
Or, more importantly, people that I didn't want to want.
"What did I do?" Darren's words were quiet, desperate even.
I opened my mouth-
"Excuse me."
I jumped as Ian squeezed past us, avoiding my gaze as he did.
Shame squeezed at my lungs.
Darren watched me. A slow anger was spreading along his jaw. "This is about him?"
My silence was gone. "And why shouldn't it be?" I countered. "You made me betray him."
"If you had challenged him outright we would never had have enough magic to take on Caine afterward."
"A friend would never have done what I did."
"You are Combat, Ryiah. You can't blame yourself for using every possible advantage to get us that victory."
I glared at him. "You are right. I don't blame myself. I blame you for talking me into it! You really are the coldest person I've ever met!"
Fury flared in the non-heir's eyes. "When you are ready to apologize," he said tersely, "you can come find me."
Before I could take one step the prince was already gone.
CHAPTER FIVE