"Weather castings feed off emotions," Master Byron noted dryly, "they are a charge to heighten one's magic. Whatever Ryiah was thinking about before her casting clearly had the intensity she needed. Lightning requires focus, but it channels emotions with it… Apprentice, perhaps you would like to share what you were thinking of before?" His words had a bitter edge and I could tell he was disappointed his favorite, the prince, hadn't been the first one to cast the magic.
"I…" Darren's lips on mine, a dark hallway with just the two of us. No, there was no way I was going to tell the class about that. "I don't remember."
"I highly doubt that, Ryiah. The charge to produce lightning requires a very intense emotion – one that would not be forgotten so easily." Byron was frowning and by this time I could see Darren and Ian further down the line looking at me with interest – and suspicion.
Why? Why did I always have bad timing? Why couldn't I be good at the one thing that demanded focus – not fevered daydreams in the middle of class? Embarrassment crept up the back of my neck and I willed myself to pretend I was anywhere else, somewhere quiet and alone where the Master of Combat couldn't draw attention to my secret fantasies.
"Perhaps it's something Ryiah would prefer to keep private." My gaze shot to Darren as he added, "Something she'd rather not describe…"
My whole face was aflame. When I finally looked I could see Ian scowling at the non-heir who had turned back to the sky with a not-so-innocent expression.
A second later there was a bright flash of yellow and a stark white display as lightening crashed in the air above. Only this time it hadn't come from me.
"Well done, Darren!" Master Byron was full of praise for the prince. "What did you use to cast it?"
Darren's eyes found mine. "Something I don't regret."
There was a tightening, something pulling at my lungs. I made myself look away.
"D-don't regret?" Byron was lost, unsure how to respond to Darren's vague answer. The rest of the class, all of whom had been in the ballroom during my fight with Ian, had a pretty good idea. Priscilla was glaring daggers at me. I didn't have the slightest doubt that if she tried to cast her lightning from her emotions now, she would be successful. That seemed the last thing on the girl's mind, however, as she stormed out of practice – not caring that we hadn't been formally dismissed.
The Master of Combat didn't seem to notice. He was too busy studying the prince and me. A sour expression formed on his thin lips. The second Byron released our faction I took off, not wanting to be there when the man aptly deduced why Darren and I had been the only ones to successfully cast in the day's lesson.
I had just readied myself for the evening meal when I heard a loud crash beyond the barrack walls.
Ella rushed out of the adjoining bathhouse to find me. "What was that?" she breathed. "It sounded like it came from outside…?"
As the two of us stared at one another there was a loud curse and a subsequent thud. We raced out the barrack doors to find Ian and Darren grappling on the ground just a couple paces away from the wooden building. The non-heir had a bloodied nose and Ian didn't look much better, half his tunic was ripped in two and there was a large welt on his shoulder where he had fallen against something hard.
I dove in and grabbed Darren's arm just as Ella went to catch Ian. "Stop it!" I shrieked. The non-heir immediately stopped struggling but Ella had to drag Ian back hard in order to get him to cease fighting.
"You stay away from her!" the fourth-year snarled. "You should be lucky I haven't challenged you to a duel for accosting her at the solstice!"
"Why don't you do it then," Darren retorted, "I have grown restless cooped up in this port for weeks." I could feel him loosening deceptively in my grip, readying for another brawl.
"Enough!" I jerked the prince back, throwing his balance off as he fell against the barrack wall. "This is enough!" My whole face flushed. "I'm sorry I've been avoiding you two – I really am! But this has to stop!"
Darren's eyes met mine and he said the next words slowly. "It will stop when you make a decision."
I didn't reply. I turned heel and headed for the commons. The only way I was ever going to make the right decision was if I stayed as far away from the non-heir as possible.
"You can't avoid them forever, Ry." Ella had caught up with me, panting from the run and looking slightly annoyed. "You have to make a decision soon. It isn't fair what you are doing to either of them."
"I know." My stomach was a mess of knots and I could feel shame imprinting itself across my face. We'd been having the same conversation for days. "I'm just afraid of making the wrong one."
"You aren't afraid of making the wrong one, Ry, it's the fact that you want to make the wrong one." She sighed. "I know you have liked the prince for a long time – but becoming Darren's mistress? That's beneath you. People would look down on you, Ry! He's still betrothed to Priscilla! You'd lose any prestige you might earn as a mage and you'd have to live with the fact that your children would never be-"
"Enough!" I turned on her, suddenly furious. She wasn't telling me anything I hadn't already considered. I knew I was a horrible person for putting poor, sweet Ian through this mess. I knew Darren couldn't afford me the happiness I deserved. I knew better. I did.