She stared him dead in the eye for a long time, face filled with the strangest sadness and almost… was that despair? She shook her head. “My enemy is not you, Prince. It is within me, and there is nothing you can do to free me from it. There is no money that will buy it off or jewels that will sway it. There is nothing you can do. Give up on it.”

Her voice was dark and emotional and told him so little while suggesting so much. What could she mean?

“We have mages in Akaria, too, you know. They will be coming for you.” Now his voice was half threat, half warning.

She barked a laugh. “I’m shaking in my boots.”

His every dart glinted off her armor easily, and it was starting to piss him off. “You don’t have on any boots. And my mother is a mage—she will find you—” He stopped, horrified.

She turned, smiling with pleasant surprise at his mistake. “Is that so! Well, that explains why you’re a mage but not why you’re such a terribly bad one.”

He gasped. She knew—she knew! How could she know? Did everyone so easily figure this out? It didn’t even feel like much of a secret anymore! The air must have given him away. Of course. How could he not have remembered to hide himself? She was right, he was a fool, but she didn’t know the half of it.

“Oh, don’t look so shocked. The whole damn village probably knows after your little stunt down there! We’ll be lucky if they only try to shun and ignore us. More likely they’ll try to kill us. Of all the stupid ways to try to draw attention—”

“I wasn’t trying to draw attention.”

“Then what were you trying to do? I inclined to just leave now and ride all night. Stupid! You’re lucky they have our coin already.” She strode angrily toward the hearth, hands in fists on her hips. She folded her arms and leaned against the wall, facing away from him, staring into the fire. The firelight gave the outline of her body a golden halo of light, silhouetting her curves. He became strangely aware that they were alone in the room together, of how far away she was, of the sound of her breath above the crackling of the fire. Damn, she’d kick him if she realized how he was staring at her, but he couldn’t help himself.

“The man was out of line. It’s against my Code to tolerate such behavior. But it… it wasn’t intentional,” he said.

She turned and eyed him over her shoulder. She didn’t believe him.

“I can’t control it.” He hesitated, trying to figure out how to convince her and sound sincere, though there was really no way to force someone to believe you, especially if they couldn’t trust a word you said. He groped for words. “Really, I can’t. Whether it would have been a good idea to get me free of you or not, that wasn’t an idea of mine. I can’t stop it.” He paused, trying to gauge her reaction, but she revealed nothing. “It’s been like that all my life. It’s not an easy secret to keep.”

She made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat. “You can’t even stop a spell? Unbelievable! Well, I’m sure these Akarian mages of yours will be quite formidable. They’re going to kill me with a blink if their training is at the high level of yours!”

“Training! I don’t have any training,” he snapped, trying to keep his voice plain but failing. “There is no training for mages in Akaria.” Oh, by the gods was he stupid. Another thing he should not have said. Few people made him this agitated. He was getting sloppy. It also upset him to realize she was right—they would have little defense against her. How could they be so ill prepared to not have some way to defend against this scenario? Once he was back in Estun, he would have to start forming such a force immediately.

“How can there be no training?”

“I’m supposed to be king. Kings aren’t supposed to be mages.” He took a deep breath and was irritated to hear it come out ragged.

She glared at him, furious for some reason. “Oh, how inconvenient for you.”

“You have no idea,” he spat back at her, for the first time a real edge of anger in his voice.

“Yes, I damn well do.”

What could that possibly mean? He met her glare with his own furrowed brow. Her eyes softened as the moments passed. They were both mages. Why was being born a mage always such a curse, it seemed? Were the zealots right that magic was against the Way of Things? No, they couldn’t be.

“Do you think I asked for this? I didn’t ask to be born a mage, or a king, and certainly not both.”

She turned to look back at the fire, saying nothing for a while. Then, eventually, she said, “None of us have ever asked for this. And yet it is what we are.”

The silence stretched on, but the air was charged with intense emotion—was it grief? Despair? Something worse?

“Listen,” he said. “I don’t know if you can believe me. But I didn’t realize I was putting us in any danger. I wasn’t plotting anything to get free. I just didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

That was the truth. It wasn’t the Code or the intoxicating freedom of being able to let his magic run wild. At a deeper level, seeing the drunk leer at her made him want to break the man’s legs. Or neck.

She said nothing. How could she just stand there? He was laying himself out on the table, and she just stared coldly, analyzing, never letting her guard down.

Then something insane leapt into his mind. “Look, you want to keep that from happening again?”

“Yes.”

“Then teach me.”

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t want me calling attention? Then you’re going to have to teach me enough to stop my own spells.”

Her mouth hung open in surprise; she said nothing, eyes searching his face.

He shrugged. “Otherwise, this is just going to continue.”

She met his eyes, frowning now, stare icy and hard, cutting into him as if she wished to see into his soul. Perhaps she could see into it, for all he knew.

“You’re an obstinate fool,” she said. Then, after a while, “I will think about it.”

Miara decided to let him sleep more freely that night, binding him to the bed with the saddle chain. It wouldn’t be as comfortable as sleeping normally, but it had to be a great improvement. She had to balance security and her own rest with keeping him from getting any more belligerent.