“I don’t accept that. I still want to try,” she insisted.
“Very well, my stubborn sorceress. Try.” He pulled up his pant leg and unwound the gauze bandages. Lucia winced upon seeing the gash on his otherwise flawless golden skin. She shrugged off her surprise and focused, channeling as much earth magic as she could into the wound—just as she’d done when she’d healed Magnus after he’d been horribly injured during the siege to take this kingdom.
But where she’d succeeded with Magnus, she failed with Alexius. Still, she continued to try until she felt weary from the effort.
“Enough, princess.” He finally grasped her wrist. “Our final lesson of the day is this: You can’t win every battle.”
More than anything, she was annoyed by her failure. And she hated that Alexius was hurt and she couldn’t help ease his pain. That had been the end of yesterday’s lessons; she had become so exhausted, her mind so filled with the darkness that naturally came from using her magic, that her body ached. She wanted to sleep for a week.
Still, her head swam and she marveled at the reality of having Alexius here in the flesh. So much so that, as she lay in bed that night looking up at the silk canopy above her head, she realized she’d barely asked Alexius anything about . . . well, anything. They’d talked of nothing beyond her lessons and her promises to show him the city. She swore to rectify that the following day.
He arrived shortly after her light breakfast of tea and yogurt with sliced peaches. The servant who’d brought the tray to her chambers eyed both her and Alexius with curiosity, so Lucia quickly sent her away and locked the door for privacy.
He brushed his gaze over her face. “You look . . . rather determined today.”
“I am,” she agreed. “Did you meet with Father last night?”
The king had insisted that the exiled Watcher give him updates at the end of each daily session. He would probably enjoy personally monitoring their lessons as well, but Lucia wouldn’t agree to that. Luckily, he hadn’t yet suggested it.
“Yes, and I told him his daughter is doing quite well, and that he should be very proud.” He walked around the large room, his gaze landing on the canopied bed, the vanity table, the reading and study area through an archway to the left, and the open balcony doors that let in fresh air and sunlight. “We’ll work in here again today, but tomorrow I think we should take your lessons outdoors to be closer to nature. Closer to the elements.”
“What about Melenia?” Lucia asked.
He grew still and glanced at her, his brow raised. “What about her?”
“Has she contacted you?”
“Actually, yes. She visited my dreams last night for the first time since I left the Sanctuary. She was very pleased to know I’ve arrived and made contact with the king. And, of course, with you.”
When she’d found Alexius in the city, he didn’t mention that he was a messenger for another beautiful immortal with mysterious ties to her father. Alexius had said only that he’d exiled himself to be with her. Because he loved her. When he’d admitted the true purpose behind his arrival to the king in the throne room, she’d been blindsided and uncertain how to feel about it.
She knew that she was missing many pieces to the puzzle of Alexius’s true purpose for being there. She wanted—no, she needed—to gather them all as quickly as possible.
“What does she want?” she asked, attempting to lighten her words with a smile. “And how often does this beautiful immortal woman plan to visit you in this rather intimate way?”
Alexius drew closer. His silvery eyes met hers, and she saw that they were filled now with an unexpected whisper of humor. “You’re not jealous, are you?”
She bristled. “Of course not.”
“Melenia is my elder and my leader, even now that I’ve left. She cares for my well-being, especially in my first few days as a mortal. Try not to concern yourself with her or your father’s interest in the ways of Watchers. Instead, focus on what’s important: getting stronger, gaining control, and growing your power.”
“Does that translate to ‘don’t be a silly girl who asks silly questions’?”
“Hardly.” The amusement in his eyes did not wane. “We should begin today’s lessons. We’ll burn off some of this paranoia you’ve woken up with this morning.”
Perhaps he was right. “Fine. Then let’s begin.”
This second day of lessons turned out to be much different than the first. Alexius began by forming a flame in the palm of his right hand, which reminded her of the one she’d conjured to both impress and frighten the boy responsible for the explosions during the rebel escape. A memory she’d just as soon forget. She’d heard that Amara had been staying at the palace the last couple of days, but Lucia hadn’t wanted to speak with her. Knowing Amara would have questions about her magic that Lucia wasn’t prepared to answer, she wanted to avoid the other princess for as long as she possibly could.
She’d deal with her another day.
“Here’s what I want you to do,” Alexius said, his face lit up by the flickering flame. “Concentrate on this fire I’ve created with my own magic—concentrate on it with every part of your mind. Without using any fire magic of your own, I want you to take this flame away from me.”
It took her a moment to understand. “You want me to steal your magic.”