Chapter 1

Oxford, Present Day

Magic was always my greatest secret. The one thing I could never tell my friends.

I discovered the truth about my family and why my parents changed their names on my sixteenth birthday, when my mom took me to Glastonbury for a weekend and we had the talk. Only mine wasn’t about guys and safety.

It taught me why I had to pretend to be normal, keep face. Especially now, on my final year of college.

“Umm… Kim, do you think I set up the schedule wrong?”

“No, why?” I stopped arranging the fliers on my stall and smiled at Jane Omondi, my best friend, who was helping me set up the newcomers program.

“You’d think by now people would start showing up to the guest lectures.”

“It’s the beginning of Freshers Week. They’re busy meeting people.”

“They’ll meet a lot of people at the lecture halls, if more of them showed up.”

I giggled. I knew what this was really about. “They’ll come. They can’t party forever.”

“Well, they better do it tomorrow. It took me a lot of effort to get the Morganstein lecture set up. I was ready to bang my head on my computer screen.”

And there it was. The one hour this week that she had spit blood to arrange. Fiona Morganstein was a world-renowned researcher from Edinburgh, and Jane wanted to make a strong impression. Morganstein’s team had a position opening for a masters student and Jane was giving it all she had.

Most of us were here to learn something that would open doors afterward. And have fun while we were at it. I was president of the JCR—the Junior Common Room—which meant that I was organizing the social calendar, and out in the college quad every day to welcome new students and teachers.

But Jane was here for a dream: to become a literature professor.

She was raised by a single mom who immigrated from Kenya when Jane was fifteen. English was Jane’s second language, but it was hard to tell because she spoke it so well.

She had a unique personality that combined her affectionate, warm nature with strict ideals about how committed people should be at school. You had to know her to get it. Most people just loved her because she was so caring and down-to-earth.

“I’m sure there will be a good turnout this time.” I tried to sound more optimistic than I was. So far, attendance to parties far surpassed that of lectures and the two were mutually exclusive, for obvious reasons. People needed sleep. “So, did you hear from the summer conference in Paris?” I changed the subject.

Her face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Gosh! I completely forgot to tell you. I got in. And they’re paying for me to come!”

“What? Wow. That’s great! It will be a door-opener for you.”

“I hope so. I’ve already applied for one of their post-graduate posts. They only have two new positions for next year. It’s a drying well over there.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll dazzle them. And I’m sure you’ll impress the professor tomorrow.”

“You’re coming, you know.” She gave me a slightly sharp look.

“I’ll do my best.”

“Kim!”

“I have to run an event tonight. I’ll do whatever I can to make it. I know what it means to you.”

An alarm went off on Jane’s phone, signaling that she needed to go to her shift at the library—a job she took to supplement her bursaries for boarding and the scholarships she won for finishing every year with overall distinction. She turned it off and looked at two boxes of pamphlets that I needed to take there. “Should I grab one of these?”

“Oh, that would be great! Thanks.”

She lifted the heavy box and smiled. “Well… Got to go now. Enjoy your time at the booth.”

“I am almost done; the next person was supposed to be here already.”

“Come by later?”

“Sure.”

I watched her walk away slowly, thinking of how her experience here was so different than mine.

I didn’t even want to go to college. I loved it now. But it took me a long time to find my feet.

And I didn’t come here because of a dream. My parents had pushed. That big shouting argument with my dad was still imprinted on my mind. He was always on my side, except in this.

We were close as a family, despite my constant fight for independence. My mom was caring and strong. Beautiful inside and out and a good listener. But whenever something happened, I’d go to him. I could trust that he would understand. He invested a lot of his time in me and my younger brother, Harley. He was down-to-earth and I knew we could see things eye to eye. Except for this.

Only one of my high school friends went to college—Tilly, who studied art history in Spain, and would speak with the rest of us once a month at most.

The other two, Scarlett and Mindy, started a beauty salon in West London. Scarlett’s father, who was an accountant in a big firm, got them set up with a place and helped them hire a manager to run it. They now had a thriving business and a beautiful website with pictures of them working with celebrities.

I wanted to join them. I argued with my dad that in his previous life, back in New York—when he and mom were still Mark and Julie Ralston, before they ran away and changed their identities to Markus and Julia Taylor—it was his entrepreneurial skills that made him successful and not university knowledge. He said that if I truly felt that way, he’d pay for me to study business.

We fought about it a lot, leading up to that big fallout. After that, I figured that if I applied and didn’t get into the place he wanted, he’d let it go.

He wanted Oxford.

He prepared me for the interviews. He had a natural gift for that type of thing, speaking to people in a convincing way. I was afraid that he would take it personally when I didn’t get in, but I had to show him that even with the best efforts, I would still fail. And I didn’t use any magic.

I got in with a full scholarship to study literature.

I was miserable all summer.

It was Mindy who said that I could be happy here. She still lived at home while getting the salon off the ground. She said college would be my ticket out of the house. It was also close to London and we could meet up a lot.

She was persuasive and it actually worked out well. Even for social events here. For tonight’s party, Scarlett’s boyfriend, the up-and-coming London DJ, Tyler Clash, was coming to do the first hour of music. She was too busy to make it, but we said we’d meet up soon.

I had to text Tyler to ensure everything was good to go with his travel arrangements. Then, I tried to call the volunteer who was supposed to replace me in the stall. She was now half an hour late.

Her name was Veronica Hobbs, a second-year music student. I hadn’t had a chance to meet her yet, but she seemed keen on the phone. In spite of this enthusiasm, she hadn’t answered any of my texts today, and her phone rang now without a response.

“Excuse me,” said a soft voice.

I looked up and put the phone down. “Sorry.” I got up from my seat and smiled. “I didn’t notice…”

She was a young girl with an eager smile. In her hand was the handle of a neat pink suitcase with large wheels.

“Yes, how can I help?”

“I can’t find my dorm. I’ve been walking around, but the signs aren’t clear. My parents are going to arrive with the rest of my things really soon.” She spoke fast. Stressed. “I can’t understand this map at all.” She showed me a folded sheet with markings.

“Oh, actually, that’s close to us. I’ll come show you.”

“Really?”

“Sure. Just let me leave a note with my number, if anyone is looking for me. I’m Kim Taylor, by the way.”

“Zhi Ruo Wang.” She shook my hand.

“Welcome to Christ Church college, Zhi Ruo.”

I could tell by the look in her eyes that she was already mesmerized by its beauty.

I jotted my name and number on a piece of paper, and picked up the box of pamphlets to drop at the library on my way back.

We started walking toward her dorm.

“You don’t mind leaving your personal phone number there like that?” she asked.

“It’s on the brochures anyhow. I’m president of the Junior Common Room.” I was stepping down this year, but the next president hadn’t been selected yet so my number was still on the pamphlets. Along with an old photo from the summer I dyed my hair red, that the college used by accident. It was back to its natural blonde now. At least my eyes showed well. The same dark blue as my mom’s.

“So, what are you going to study?” I asked.

“Physics. How about you? What’s your major?”

“Literature.”

“Oh, you must read so many books.” She seemed impressed, which was surprising considering her major was in science and mine wasn’t.

“I just like reading.”

“I like equations.” She giggled. “But I do read.”

She seemed very nice. We reached her door a few minutes later, still talking about books. Zhi Ruo searched for her keys, and I put down my heavy box and took a breath.

“I’m actually handing over the post this year.” I gave her one of the pamphlets. “You can apply, that is, if it won’t interfere too much with your studies. Oh, and since you just arrived, there’s a party tonight, at the Junior Common Room. You should come. You’ll get to meet people from the college.”

“Thanks.” She smiled, opened the door, and pulled the heavy suitcase into the hall. “I might just do that. I will see you at the party?”

The door closed behind her, and I bent down to pick up the box. As I turned back, I felt a sudden pain in my side and stumbled forward, realizing that the door had opened when I moved and someone had just walked straight into me. The box fell to the floor, spilling its contents into a muddy puddle.

“Are you all right?”

I turned. A guy stood right beside me.

“Fine,” I managed. But my side hurt badly.

He looked around at the mess, his grey eyes scanning. Half the brochures were in the mud. “I can help you get them.”

“Thanks, but I think it’s too late. We’ll have to throw those away.” I started to pick them up. A soft, warm feeling spread through me as my magic healed the wound. I stopped it. I was always extra careful not to be noticed using my powers.

He joined me, silently picking up the pamphlets.

I kept waiting for him to apologize for having bumped into me, but he still hadn’t done it when he handed me the last brochure. He just pulled out a canvas bag from his pocket and put them all into it.

“Here.” He handed me the bundle. “You should really recycle those.”

He had the nerve! “Thanks. I’ll be sure to learn good manners from you.”

“What?”

I had surprised him.

“You are very welcome for the help!” he said with evident anger.

“Hey, you bumped into me.” And still hadn’t apologized, I wanted to add.

“No. You bumped into me. You weren’t even looking when you moved with that box, standing right outside a dorm entrance.”

“I was helping a freshmen. I’m head of the Junior Common Room.”

“Oh, you are, are you?”

What was his problem? I took a deep breath. “Okay, I think we got off on the wrong foot here. I’m Kim. I get that this is a hard week for everyone. So, how about I welcome you, uh…”

“Seth. The name’s Seth. And I’ve already been here for a year. Well, not at this college.”

A year? He seemed too old for a second-year student, but some people came here at a later age.

“So you’re a sophomore.”

“I’m a masters student.”

Oh. He was looking away from me. I had to be polite, though I didn’t want to be there either. “So… what do you study?”

“Computer science. You?”

“Literature.”

“A Charles Dickens fan?” He looked at me now. And that cold grey glance was accentuated by his bright brown hair.

“Yes, actually. My favorite is Great Expectations.”

The look changed to that of interest. “Mine too. I like what he did with Estella. Showing that the princess femme fatale was really a nut head.”

“What? No, she wasn’t. She was miserable, because she wasn’t free to be who she wanted to be.”

For a moment, it seemed my words had impressed him. Though, part of me couldn’t help but wonder, from the way he had said the word princess, if there wasn’t a hidden insult there. I decided not to let this go on any further. “Anyhow… I must leave now. It was nice meeting you.” I gave him a short smile.

“You too.” He picked up the box, handing it to me, and then placed the canvas bag on top of it.

“Thanks.” I walked away, trying to put this Seth guy out of my mind.

The college was quiet, and it was easy to find a hidden spot where nobody would see what I was about to do.

I closed my eyes and thought of the wet pamphlets in the bag. Pamphlets, be clean and dry! Pamphlets, be clean and dry! I concentrated on the image in my mind of what they had looked like before.

Magic started deep inside me and rushed from my core and through my fingers. I felt something move, straighten, lighten. Then, I opened my eyes and peeped into the bag.

The contents were clean and dry. I took the risk and let my powers heal my painful side, and then walked to the library, remembering how much I loved having magic.

“What’s in the bag?” Jane asked when I put the box on top of the one she’d brought.

“Pamphlets that had fallen. Some guy bumped into me.”

“Well, then he should have helped you carry it here.”

“Good point.” Her way of seeing it immediately put me at ease.

She opened the bag to examine its contents. “You’re lucky. They’re all dry.”

“Yes. Very lucky,” I said quickly. For a moment, I felt tense, but there was no way she could know…

“You’re okay, right? He was just an idiot.” She put a warm hand on my shoulder. She must have sensed my stress without knowing its real cause. “And people are all crazy this week. Can’t find a straight head on campus.”

“Yes. They are. And it’s only Wednesday.”

She laughed. “Should I make you a cup of tea?”

“No. Actually, I have to get back to my post. My replacement didn’t show up.”

“Who is it?”

“Veronica Hobbs.”

“The music student?” She opened a drawer and took out a student card. “Someone brought this in a few minutes ago. Said they found it near Tom Tower.”

She handed me the card. On it was the picture of a curly-haired girl, almost too young to have finished high school, smiling shyly. “Have you tried calling her?”

“Yes. I also texted her. How could she leave this behind?”

Jane chuckled. “Should I show you the lost and found box… or should I remind you of the time that your own card was in it, Miss Kimberley Taylor?”

I laughed out loud.

A few minutes later, I headed back to the booth. When I turned from the library to the quad, I could already see that it was empty. The next student showed up, almost two hours afterward, and I asked him whether he knew Veronica.

He said that he did and he saw her earlier, talking with someone near Magdalene College. He waved to her and she looked at him but didn’t wave back. Then, a car stopped by and she hurried inside. The person she was with just kept walking.

“Strange.”

“Do you think something happened to her?” he asked.

“Probably not, but I’ll text her again and leave a message with security right now.”

There was still no word from her when I was getting dressed and preparing for the evening back in my dorm. Security had said not to worry, that people could often be unavailable during Freshers Week, but I didn’t feel relieved.

Before going to shower, I sent an email to her, and to the welcome booth volunteers—to text me if they saw her.

There was nothing more I could do, so I tried not to think about it too much. Instead, I got ready, hoping that I would hear from her by morning, or even just meet her at the party and she’d say that she had lost her phone.

Jane texted that some guy named Seth walked into the library and saw his canvas bag. She said he seemed very nice and asked her to apologize for what happened. I wondered whether she had knocked some sense into him.

She also wrote that he completely exaggerated the situation, saying that the brochures had ended up in the mud, and she had to tell him that most of them were clean and dry.

It made me wonder how she would have reacted if she found out the truth about my being a witch.

I didn’t know why I never told her. I guess it was because magic often confused me.

Just because I was a witch didn’t mean that I could do whatever I wanted. Magic took concentration and could really tire you.

It was also not completely mine to enjoy. It was in the service of mortals. Your powers were just waiting. Given to you only so that you could protect someone else. Someone you would meet and fall in love with, for life. Your Charge. I sometimes thought it wasn’t fair that my greatest gift wasn’t for me.

To add to it, those born to magic couldn’t use it to get ahead or to bestow influence to anyone else. The magic got undone when we tried.

Of course, I also had the added stress of my parents’ story that meant that both me and Harley, couldn’t even have witch friends to share it with. I often wished that I at least had that. Then, I could help people like Veronica.

There was a buzz on my phone. I glanced at it.

“Hi, it’s Zhi Ruo. Sorry to bother you, but I was just checking the form for the JCR president.”

“Hi, Zhi Ruo. Glad you are applying. Do you have questions?” I texted back.

“No, but I’m having issues with the system. It keeps crashing. I understand you’re announcing the candidates tonight.”

“Yes.” I texted and glanced at the clock. There was plenty of time before I’d have to get going. Maybe my inability to help Veronica put me in a mood to try to help her. “You can use my computer, if you need to.”

“Really?” she replied. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to be a burden.”

“It’s not a problem at all.” I texted her my address. Luckily, my room was very easy to find.

For some reason, it took her awhile to get there, and I was beginning to worry that I might be late.

“Sorry. I got lost on the way,” she said when she finally arrived, and I opened the door to let her in.

“Don’t worry about it. I have the form open and ready.”

She smiled thankfully and took a seat at my desk. “Will you be presenting us?”

“Each candidate will present themselves. But, if you want, I can help you with a couple of tips. We can talk on the way to the JCR.”

“Wow! That would be great. I know I’ll need it.”

“I’m in a bit of a hurry, so just do your best with the form.”

“Of course.” She turned to the computer and started typing her answers.

My makeup needed one last touch, and I moved away from the desk to my sink to give her privacy.

With my back toward her, I felt something. Something that completely surprised me.

Zhi Ruo was using magic.

I concentrated. The sensation was clear. She was definitely radiating spell power.

Puzzled, I looked at her through the mirror.

Through a small mirror on my desk, she was looking right back at me.

 

Chapter 2

Western Scotland, AD 500

Kimberley Áedán paced the marble floor of her father’s palace.

What was taking them so long? She went to the window and looked out, biting her fingernails. She noticed herself doing it and put her hands behind her back.

Patience was not one of her strengths. Neither was dealing with excitement. Or fear.

She looked anxiously beyond the high castle walls and the fields outside the gates.

“Don’t stare out too long. It’s not ladylike.” She remembered the words of her mentor, Morgan Le Fay.

She took a step back into the room but kept her eyes out the window. Her heart thumped.

In the distance, she could now see two riders. She stifled a breath.

They were coming to deliver her marriage contract. To Domangart Réti, crown prince to the High King, Fergus Mor, ruler of Dalriada.

One of the riders carried the shield of the high king. That would be Niall, the first knight.

Her eyes moved to the other one. He looked much younger. More her age. Tall with bright brown hair, he was dressed more simply too.

He must be the squire.

She watched as they neared the walls. The squire looked up and for a moment—though she was standing away from the open window—she thought she caught the cold glare in his grey eyes.

“They’re here.” She heard a voice from outside her door.

No kidding.

She sighed as she moved away.

She had come to this court a few months ago after studying with Morgan for a year and a half.

She didn’t remember her life before that, not since the accident they all said she’d had. A fact that Morgan instructed her to prudently conceal.

Court life was…tolerable.

Her father loved it. King Áedán liked to say there was nothing of any value beyond the castle walls. Perhaps it was that way for him. There was always something on with knights visiting or the feasts and games he’d arrange.

And he’d definitely spared no effort to make her happy here. Her every wish was immediately fulfilled, and he surrounded her with other court ladies her age, hoping she’d enjoy society the way he did.

But most of them envied her. Long before her advantageous marriage was announced, she’d catch them during the endless balls and dinners, staring in that particularly jealous way and whispering to each other. Their gaze would fixate on what she was wearing or her jewelry, things that her father made it his business to provide at the highest quality he could afford, which was a lot.

He was the richest king in the region.

But when she sat there with his knights, it was the stories of their journeys here that intrigued her and not the lavish entertainment. Foreign places, dangerous creatures, and strange people…

Sometimes she’d lie awake at night, imagining that she was there with them. She’d often find herself glancing out to the distant horizon and imagining their quests or how they visited other countries. Or the sea. Merchants who came to court spoke of a land in the south, where there once was a great kingdom ruled by mages.

“Highness, can we come in?”

She breathed out tensely and turned to the door. “Please do.”

Two maids entered and bowed. One of them walked around her, inspected her from top to toe, then bent down to rearrange the folds of her light purple dress so that the lacy edge would show first.

“Everyone should be ready in a few minutes.”

Everyone meant her father and the chief of staff.

“Aren’t you the lucky one?”

Sure…

These words reminded her of the fairies telling her she was fortunate to live life as the king’s daughter.

She always thought she was far luckier to live with them, in their ancient forest town, with its arched pillars and silver roofs blending naturally into the surrounding woods. And learn from an immortal fairy queen, who had walked the earth for millennia, seeing different courts, speaking foreign languages, and meeting nobles of different ranks. In less than two years, Morgan had her ready for the level of sophistication it took to maneuver a court like her father’s. She often wished it took longer.

But Morgan disapproved of this marriage. When she wrote her about it, she got the reply that it was hasty, too early in her court life and that he wasn’t the right man for her. Which came as a surprise. Normally, Morgan pushed her to excel and take challenges.

One of the maids raised her long blonde hair and tucked it behind her ears. “You must be excited to meet the first knight! The whole palace is talking about Niall.” She handed her a pair of delicate golden earrings. “And you are such a match for the high court where you can display your accomplishments and social talent, not to mention your taste in fashion. You will be so much happier there.”

So they all kept saying… Nobody understood her!

Her eyes landed on a drawing of Domangart Réti that her father had given her when he proudly told her how hard it was to arrange this marriage, to pave her way to the high court. And how it was “her right and duty” to be married well. He did say that the final decision would “be up to her, of course,” but it was clear that she was expected to go along with it. Enthusiastically.

Always doing what’s expected…

Not that she wasn’t grateful. It was just that there was nobody to talk to. Her mother had died giving birth to her.

The girls opened the door.

“Ready?”

Keep calm. “Yes,” Kim lied.

She managed to slow her breath and followed them down the stairs and into the room where the knights waited.

Niall was hard to miss. No wonder rumors spread around him. He practically had more presence than her father. Up front, he looked in his early forties with dark eyes and hair as black as coal. Before working for Fergus Mór, he was a respected knight in a land across the ocean.

The squire stood still beside him, taller than him, as he observed her.

They both looked…as if something terrible had happened on the journey. She had to look away from the long tear on Niall’s sleeve.

“Sir Niall.” She smiled.

“Your Highness,” Niall took her hand and kissed it, bowing. “I don’t believe you have met my companion. This is Sir Seth.”

A sir. Another knight. Clearly the customs of the high court were very different. In her father’s order, squires were young apprentices, new to the life of knighthood. This was their opportunity to learn the ropes and sometimes to shine and win the favor of the king when it was time to select new knights.

“Nice to meet you too, Sir Seth.”

Again, she got that grey glare. He said nothing.

“Quite the lady for our prince,” said Niall. “Talk at the palace has not done you justice.”

“Thank you.” She blushed.

Seth remained silent.

“We’re sorry for our slightly disordered appearance, Your Majesty.” Niall addressed her father. “As I was just explaining to your chief of staff, we’ve had a mishap on the road. But, of course, you can rest assured that we’ve kept the wedding treaty safe at all times.”

“That is very appreciated. My men will make every effort to have your carriage ready in time for your departure.” Her father spoke to both men, and it seemed he knew the squire.

Kim observed Seth again. He gave her a cold grin.

“Thank you,” Niall said.

Her father turned to her with a glance that she recognized well. It was her time to step up as the host’s daughter. Like she had so many times before.

“You must be hungry and tired from the ride,” she said quickly. “We wouldn’t want to delay you from getting to your rooms.”

“Thank you. That is kind, Your Highness,” Niall said.

She smiled, then looked at his quiet companion. Seth was looking at something behind her. Rude, she thought. Or perhaps just distracted.

She had to give him the benefit of the doubt.

A servant came and led the two knights away to their rooms.

✧

Finally, she was gone. Seth didn’t know how much longer he could have endured it.

Court ladies were always a bit of a nuisance, but this one was a pro. It was as if every word, every gesture, every muscle in her face, the very tone in which she uttered her sentences was aligned with court behavior to such an extent that it was mechanic.

How did they get that way, and why?

Of course, he too had once fallen for it, and Niall would at times hint that it was his reason for disliking them. But that would never happen again.

He lay down on the bed, exhausted, and tried to forget that he’d have to see Kimberley—or Kim, as he heard the staff refer to her—at dinner too.

You’d think she’d be a bit more informal with him after what he’d just done for her. He shut his eyes, and remembered how he’d saved her marriage treaty when the horses bolted.

He could see it in front of him. How the coach raced wildly in the dense forest, shaking from side to side, after the horses panicked and the driver lost control. The weight of the carriage shifted the balance to the side, making it difficult to maneuver between the divots in the road.

He and Niall got jolted in their seats. And then, the door flew open, letting out one of the trunks, which fell, spilling its contents.

The golden box containing the marriage contract was in it.

“Stop the horses!” Seth cried.

He pushed himself through the open door and hoisted himself to the roof, nearly falling as the carriage shook. From there, he joined the driver, and with their combined strength, they pulled the reins. The horses whinnied and finally slowed down, but the coach only stopped once its corner fell into the road.

“Are you all right?” the driver asked.

“Fine.” Seth turned to look back through the carriage window. “Niall?”

“I’m good.” Niall caught his breath and opened the left door. “I’ll stay with the driver. If you could go look for the trunk…see if the box is still in one piece.”

Seth climbed down. He started to retrace the path of the wheels, scanning the road on both sides. Behind him, he heard Niall help the driver pull the carriage out of the dirt. The driver cursed loudly. He knew Niall was a strong man, from sword-practices together.

Seth was proud to be his fencing teacher.

He kept walking, his eyes searching for the box.

It had taken two weeks of negotiations just to get the first draft of that treaty. He had sat in on a few of them when King Áedán came to Fergus Mór’s palace to discuss the terms.

From the stories, his daughter Kim seemed no different than other court-ladies. Exactly what Domangart would be looking for, given his usual exploits.

Dealing with this marriage was a sad reminder that Fergus Mór’s reign would one day end. He was a good king and ruled with justice. Many knights feared what would happen when he was succeeded by his son.

Seth finally spotted the glitter of the box. It was lying on the wet grass, but to his relief, it had survived the fall.

He walked over to it and picked it up. It was an impressive piece of art, ornamented with floral engravings around the royal crest. There was one small scratch on the bottom and the hinges got twisted, but in spite of the deformity, the lock was still intact.

He tilted it and heard the paper move inside. A strong odor came out which he had sensed it earlier and mentioned to Niall, who said he didn’t smell it.

“It didn’t break,” Niall remarked in relief when he brought it back. The coach now stood straight, after his friend’s efforts.

“The odor is stronger now.”

Niall held it close to his nose. “I can see what you mean. It must be the prince’s ink. You’re right. It is strong.” He wrapped it carefully with a cloth. “The lock looks all right.”

The driver joined them, covered in mud.

“How are we doing?” Niall asked.

The driver shook his head. “The wheel is terribly cracked. There’s no way she’d make it to the castle, I’m afraid. Not with both of you inside.”

“We’ll ride, then,” Seth said. “It’s a little over an hour from here. As long as the same roads are still open since last spring.” He had been there twice before.

“Are they?” Niall turned to the driver.

“As far as I know, they are,” the driver replied.

“Good,” Niall said. “Seth and I will take the horses. We’ll send a few people to help repair the coach once we reach court, and hopefully we’ll see you at dinner tonight. It’s a shame we’ll be late,” he smiled at Seth. “I would have liked a lesson before the big feast.”

“We’ll do one tomorrow.”

Niall was a good student. He had perfect technique and a wide repertoire of advances. Catching him off guard was a challenge, and Niall liked studying with him because he succeeded. Teaching was interesting and demanded patience and creativity.

But it wasn’t anything like the tournaments.

Seth remembered them as he now lay alone in the room while Niall left to check if there was news of the carriage.

He could almost feel the weight of the sword in his hand and King Fergus Mór looking on, knowing that soon victory would be his.

It was all before he’d damaged his wrist in battle. Everything had been difficult since, but he was good enough to teach. At least that, he still had.

But the hardest memories were not of the sword fights or the doctors and wizards who did everything they could to heal the wound and failed. They were of silk and embroidery and deep, mysterious eyes that belonged to someone he desperately tried to forget.

The sound of footsteps disrupted his train of thought, bringing his sharp senses to focus.

They came from Niall’s room. The door in between was half open.

He concentrated. It was definitely not Niall. The steps were too light.

Whoever was there opened a drawer, then closed it. Then another one. Items were being moved.

He reached for his sword and silently put it on the bed beside him. The golden box was with him, and he placed it carefully on the table next to the bed. Then, he waited, alert, observing.

The sounds neared the door and then moved farther away. There was a shadow of a person.

Seth pulled the blanket to cover himself and his sword and pretended to sleep. The door between the rooms moved, and the man stepped inside.

He crept around the room, as if trying to find something in the dark. He took a few steps to see whether Seth was asleep. Then, he turned. Without making a sound, he picked up the box from the table.

“Put that back down,” Seth commanded. He’d been quick. He sat upright, the sharp edge of his sword touching the intruder’s back.

The man laughed. “Or you’ll what?”

“I said, put it down.” He got up.

“I don’t think so.” The stranger took a step toward the table and then turned, quickly drawing his own sword.

Seth smiled. “I don’t want trouble and neither do you.”

“You talk too much!” the man said and, in a swift movement, he backed toward the window and closed the curtain, darkening the room even more.

It was an advantage, to be in the dark. Seth had fought in almost complete darkness before, and he doubted the man had the experience. “Again. Put the box back on the table.”

“No.”

Their blades met.

The man was skilled. He had good moves and advances. In a longer fight, he would have won.

But then, that was always the challenge. How to spot and go straight for the opponent’s weakest point, catch him off guard. It was what he’d been teaching Niall. Speed was a far better strength than stamina. No one knew that more than a fighter with an injured wrist: a man who had to count on his instincts to serve him where his strength would fail.

His sword flew above the man, who ducked successfully, only to find the weapon approach him again immediately from below, sending his own sword flying across the room.

The fight was over in a matter of seconds, with Seth’s sword pointed at the man’s neck.

He walked around him to the window and opened the curtains. The man was dressed in noble attire, but his shoes were worn.

“Who are you?”

The man didn’t answer.

“More importantly, why do you want the treaty?” He shifted the tip of his blade, pressing against the man’s throat.

The man was motionless, smiling.

“Fine,” Seth said. “We can do this the hard way.”