“And accepted it,” his mother added.

“We shall all see about that, won’t we?” said the king. “Dearest, why don’t you send our departing princess a basket to take on her way?” She stared at him, incredulous, as his smile slowly spread to a grin. “What? Surely, she’s expecting us to try and stop her. Let’s send her on her way with a dollop of guilt, shall we?”

Aven couldn’t hold back a bark of laughter, and even his mother grinned. “She probably won’t eat it, you know. What if we’ve poisoned it?”

“Now there’s an idea!” his father laughed.

“No, no, you’re right. I will get the kitchen to put something together.”

“But more seriously. Put on your sweetest, kindest demeanor. I want to give her a few things to remember later when she plans the murder of our son.”

His mother shuddered.

“It’s all right,” Aven whispered, putting his arm around her and taking his father’s hand. “Estun is extremely safe. She can plan all she wants, but I’m not waiting helplessly.”

She smiled at him and nodded. “She’ll be off soon, I had better go. You two continue your planning.” Before her words were complete, the bell rang for the dinner banquet. “Or… not.”

“And miss another dinner with Teron?” his father laughed. “Have you gone mad?”

“Well, it will be an excellent opportunity for you both to see if they treat Aven any differently. I’ll meet you there as soon as I am done sweet-talking our dearest enemy.”

“Enjoy yourself, darling!” his father joked and put his arm around Aven to head to dinner, pipe in hand.

Miara had spent most of the day checking over her maps with Sorin, and now as the sun set, she packed up her things to hopefully catch her father before he slept. She had some explaining to do.

“So they’re sending you to Akaria this time, eh? Excited?” Sorin asked. She shrugged. “Have you been to Akaria?”

“No.”

“You will like it, I assure you. If only because it’s not here, and if you’d been born there, you’d be free. An outcast, perhaps, but free.”

She shrugged again. “I haven’t thought much about it. It will be a challenge.”

“What do they want you to do?”

“Kidnap a prince.”

He stood up in surprise. “Kidnap a prince?”

“That’s how I reacted.”

“But why would they send you?”

She blinked. Of course, she felt the same way. But it was hardly polite. “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” she grumbled.

“Well. I didn’t mean—”

She rolled her eyes. He had no experience as a spy. The lanky blond mage had only been to Akaria to fetch the herbs he could find with his farsight.

“How do you plan to contain him?” he demanded, quickly changing the subject.

She hesitated. “Well… transformation won’t work. He’ll go mad. I have a spell, but I’ve had no way to practice it.”

“Sounds risky.”

“Can I try it out on you?”

“Certainly, love.” He sounded far from enthusiastic in spite of his words, but she could get her revenge for him doubting her. She closed her eyes. It was a difficult and draining spell, pushing the limits of what a creature mage could do. Creature mages worked with life energies, so creating entirely new things was limited to what she could bring forth from existing life forces. She could grow a plant to bind wrists, but that would be too obvious. She could grow a python if she wanted to use a massive amount of energy. But instead, she sought to make restraints from his own life energy.

“What the—”

He could feel it, though he wasn’t sure what she was doing. She plucked a tendril of his power here, a wisp of it there, and wove them together deftly, like braiding a plait around each wrist, and then—snap!

“There,” she said. “Did it work?”

He shook his head. “Nothing happened.”

“Swing your arms around. Do something.”

Doubtful, he threw his arms out, and after a few inches, his wrists hit the shackles and caught. He gazed down in horror.

“It did work!” she exclaimed.

He circled his arms around, looking for some way to free himself, but it was no use. “All right, that’s enough. Undo it.”

“I never said anything about knowing how—”

“Now,” he growled, stepping menacingly toward her.

“It’s done, it’s done.” She tried not to glare, but she could feel the iron tension in her shoulders. She had many times thought of Sorin as a friend, and he often flirted with her. Or at least, she thought he did. But there was another side to him.

“All right,” he grunted. “We’ve all had plenty of extra enslavement for one day, love. Don’t do that again.”

“You gave me your permission.”

“How is it you can do that, against the binding?” he demanded, unapologetic. “You did what the Masters do.”

“No. It’s a physical bond, not a mental one. And I can only do it on their behalf.” She paused, hating the thought. “Convenient for them, no?”

He nodded brusquely. “Well. Good luck on your mission, then,” and he was gone before she finished gathering her books.

She trotted home, heavy books and maps in tow in her bag. She was still shutting the door when she heard her father’s voice.

“So, are you going to tell me about your mission before you leave, meesha?”

She turned, grinning. Meesha was her father’s pet name for her, a holdover from when she was small. “My plan was to tell you now. How did you know?”

“You weren’t at the stables. You should be proud of Luha, though, she didn’t budge to tell me anything.” He winked at her. “Have you had anything to eat?”

His casual act was a façade. She knew how much he hated her missions, but he strove valiantly to pretend he didn’t. It did make it easier, so she did her best to play along. “Damn. No, I forgot to eat again. Have you?”

“Ah, the bond will do that to you. As will an intelligent mind hard at work. Do you want to tell me of your next trial as we get something to eat?”