A Heartsrune ceremony was also a celebration: children received their first heartsglass in their thirteenth year. Nobles and commoners alike looked on while asha summoned runes to fill heartscases with various colors of red. Occasionally, a lucky child would see their hearts turn purple, singling them out for the artisan’s life, inexorably entwined with those of an asha’s. They would become apothecaries who create beauty, accessory makers who churn out zivar, and ateliers to cloth asha in the latest fashions—even village witches, like my sisters.
The unluckiest of the bunch would find their heartsglass shine silver and would be required to turn themselves over to the asha-ka association the following day, an asha’s apprenticeship awaiting the girls and a Deathseeker’s novitiate for the boys.
Drawing Heartsrune was a relatively easy task even for someone with Mykaela’s poor health. I would have preferred that she remained in bed, but I understood her need to be useful. Polaire had been just as hesitant. The brunette hovered close by like a mother hen in case Mykaela should falter. She did not.
Odalians were suspicious of asha but tolerated them for the historical ties Odalian royalty shares with the spellbinders. But Dark asha are a separate category altogether, and for them, the people’s hatred runs deep. Attuned as I was to heartsglass, I felt the differing emotions running through the audience. Their contempt for bone witches like Mykaela and me—the only two surviving in all the kingdoms—was plain to see, and they felt secure in the knowledge that, in crowds, it was safe to hate without repercussions. Not for the first time, I wondered how Mykaela managed to do this year after year.
Four hundred and twenty-six children turned up for the event, and as we neared the end of the line, my sister-asha had found seven purple heartsglass and three silver. It was not those children I worried for. All the silvers were girls. My trepidation was for Likh, who was among the last of those waiting. There was no need for Mykaela to trace Heartsrune for him; his was already a blinding silver. But due to his unusual circumstances, he had yet to hold his own Heartsrune ceremony, and it could no longer be delayed.
Deathseekers were even rarer than asha, bone witches the only sect more limited in number. Likh was the only Deathseeker found in the last two years, and that realization was not lost on our audience. Heads craned in his direction, their expressions a mixture of derision and confusion. Likh served as an apprentice for Chesh, the popular zivarmaker, and was dressed in his apprentice robes. And yet, looking at his graceful features and slender frame, one would find it difficult to see him as male.
Mykaela’s pace did not slow. She bowed gravely to the young boy, and Likh returned her gesture with solemnity. His resigned expression turned to one of amazement when other asha stepped forward: first Polaire and Zoya, then Shadi and Zoya’s friends Yonca, Sveta, and Tami. And then to my surprise, Altaecia stepped forward from the crowd; as Princess Inessa’s bodyguard, I thought she was in Kion, looking after her ward.
As much as I wanted to, I made no move to join them. The Odalians will not treat a bone witch’s opinion with the same merits they would an asha’s. I watched my sisters surround the startled Likh. Lady Mykaela moved back, quietly losing herself in the crowd of courtiers and nobles, as Polaire slid a beautiful diamond-studded zivar out of her short brown hair and gently tucked it behind the boy’s ear.
The other asha followed suit, taking off their beautiful hairpieces and placing them on Likh. There were gasps from the crowd, the implication obvious. We had lodged numerous appeals to the asha-ka association to admit Likh to the asha, with little success. Now Polaire and the others were making their protests public for all to see.
Likh trembled. His gaze turned in my direction, and I responded with a tiny, supportive wave.
Prince Kance stepped forward. He was dressed in the Odalian royal uniform, ceremonial clothes of golden buttons and silver embroidery worn only for coronations or royal weddings. He bowed low to the awestruck boy.
If that is not approval enough, then nothing else will sway the association to our side, Fox murmured in my head.
The prince turned toward King Telemaine. I glanced back at the crowd and saw Khalad among those watching, his face set and angry as he stared at his father.
Mykaela had quietly resurfaced beside us. I tugged at her sleeve. “Why is Althy here?” I whispered.
“The First Daughter arrived from Kion a few hours ago,” she whispered back. “Althy was quite keen to take part in the festivities. Given her position, her actions carry the empress’s support as well.”
“Nobody told me about this.” I felt a little hurt.
It was her turn to look startled. “Didn’t Polaire tell you?”
“No. And Prince Kance too?”
“He offered. This will lend more credence to our petition. The association will want the prince’s support on other issues and may be more amenable as a result.”
“And so ends our Heartsrune day,” King Telemaine announced in a grave voice. “Younglings: use your heartsglass well, and choose your paths wisely. Let today be the first day of the rest of your lives. I know that it will be the first day of the rest of mine.”
A faint murmur ran through the crowd, unsure of what he meant.
“Today is a day for celebrations,” he continued. “It is only fitting that I announce another. Kance.”
Obediently, the crown prince stepped forward, his confusion was obvious. “Father? You still haven’t—”
“I am honored to have the lovely Princess Inessa here in Odalia to celebrate Heartsrune Day with us. Kion has always been our staunchest ally, and together we have worked to bring peace and prosperity to our respective kingdoms. Today, we will officially cement our long alliance.”
A beautiful young woman joined the prince and his father. She wore a magnificent hua of amber and white, with sleeves that trailed past her arms the way royal princesses from Kion wore them, and her train flared out several yards behind her. The lower half of her face was veiled, as was customary, though the sheer lace was transparent enough for her delicate features to be seen. I heard Fox draw in a sharp breath beside me. Shock flared through the bond we shared before he swiftly hauled it back.
“It is my honor today,” King Telemaine said, “to officially declare the engagement of my son, Crown Prince Kance, to the beautiful Princess Inessa, the First Daughter of Kion!”
The crowd cheered. Kance’s eyes widened, and he turned pale for a moment before swiftly recovering. I stumbled back.
“Steady,” Fox instructed, though the faint tremor in his voice painted his own words shaky. He could not look away from Princess Inessa, who spotted him but averted her gaze.
The next couple of hours passed in a daze. I was barely cognizant of what I was doing, like I was watching myself through some other person’s eyes. I looked on as I smiled and shook the hand of the beaming King Telemaine. “I must commend Polaire for helping me bring this all together,” he said with his customary near-deafening laugh. “She is a treasure, your Polaire.”
“Is she, Your Majesty?” I heard myself murmur, struggling to make small talk.
“She broke up a plot of the Faceless against the Yadoshans—an attempt on Lord Besserly’s life, their Grand Duke. Endeared them to us in the process, so we’re in talks for a better trade route. And she was most supportive regarding my son’s engagement. I cannot thank her and you, asha, enough.”
I barely had time to congratulate Princess Inessa before a bevy of handmaidens swept her away to the next group of well-wishers.