Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73154 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73154 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
He cocks his head, and after a moment, agrees.
“Once I’m qualified, I’ll leave. Start over where no one will recognise me.”
Quin’s silence is heavy, almost oppressive, before he finally speaks, “I despise the rules stopping par-linea from wielding magic.”
“If only—”
“The king would do something?” A bitter laugh. “The majority of officials staunchly oppose such change. He’d have to fight.”
I slump against the wall. “I wish he would.”
“Even if he wanted to, he won’t get a chance. He’s still a damn puppet, under the control of his uncle.”
“A puppet who’s still king,” I mutter. “No matter his hardship, he owes it to his people to fight as hard as he possibly can.”
Quin’s eyes narrow on me sharply. “You think opposing corrupt power is easy?”
“I think the king lacks courage.”
Shadows layer Quin’s face, his power simmering with anger and frustration. “You speak so boldly for someone hiding behind a mask. Does courage come easier when you call yourself Calix Solin?”
My breath snags, heat thrumming in my chest as I fumble for a reply. “I’m just doing what I must to survive.”
“What makes you think he’s any different?”
My shoulders sag. I don’t know what to say.
Briefly, Quin shuts his eyes. Then he pulls a wooden badge from under his cloak. A familiar one.
I frantically check my belt for the soldad. Gone. My gaze whips to his. “That’s—”
“It fell when you were carried up here.” He steps closer, his presence filling the space as he reaches for my belt. His fingers knot it tightly, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that makes my breath hitch. “You’ll be up against the best—men who’ve spent thousands in gold to hone their craft.”
“I don’t have to place first. I just have to pass.”
“No matter how skilled, only those ranked in the top ten pass. All others may try again the following year.”
Wait another year? But what if another of my family gets hurt? Or another roof needs repairing? I gave up the Temenos money . . . I need to earn . . .
Quin flips my soldad to the six empty squares. “Last year saw impressive talent turned away—talent that will be back this year, determined to place.”
“You’re saying I don’t have much hope.”
“I’m saying . . .” The space between us seems to be shrinking. I can feel the faint warmth radiating from him, and the shift of his fingers still on my soldad. He slowly lets go, looking into my eyes. “Fight for it.”
“You’re encouraging me?” I murmur.
“I believe your grandfather would say the same.”
I hold my breath against a sudden ache in my chest. Last night’s confession replays in my mind, the weight of it lingering between us and heating my cheeks.
“You were just a child,” he says quietly.
I shut my eyes. The air feels thick and painful as I haul in a breath.
I ball my shame inside before it leaks from me. “I want admission to the royal city.”
“Didn’t you want to start a career somewhere fresh?”
“The royal city is practically its own world, so few enter.”
“Even fewer exit.”
“I’ll be a whole new person there.”
Quin raises a brow. “And when they investigate the birth records in Hinsard? Will yours be there, Calix?”
“Yes. Calix Solin is actually real.”
“Are you sure about that?”
I hesitate. Maskios’s face was an illusion. Was anything he said real? I squeeze my soldad.
Quin watches. Can he taste my yearning, my frustration? He looks away and clears his throat. Before he can speak, though, there’s a knock at the door.
“Later,” Quin calls.
“There’s a message from your wife.”
My head snaps up.
“Leave it with my aklo,” Quin says, meeting my gasp with a narrowing of his gaze. “What?”
“You’re married?” The words come out more gasp than question.
He hesitates, his jaw tightening before he speaks, voice edged with something raw, pained. “I have a son, too.”
This young, arrogant man. Already a husband, a father?
Quin huffs and looks out the windows at the street below. It’s bustling with . . .
The market!
I scramble off the bed, heart pounding as I scan the room for my boots. The sun is already high—Silvius could be waiting, or worse, already gone . . . “Can you . . . can you keep this between us, please?”
He doesn’t look at me, but he nods.
“Thank you for ensuring Akilah and I were taken care of last night.”
“Don’t thank me.” I see the corners of his lips curl. “I set it all up.”
I swat him on the way past, barking out a laugh.
His gaze follows me, his eyebrow arching. “Will you let me exploit you longer?”
“Not today. I have some romancing to do.”
“What?”
I toss a wave over my shoulder and rush out to find Akilah. The rough texture of her cloak brushes against me as I wrap her into a hug. “Let’s go.”
Outside, the clamour of the heaving market surrounds me. We hurry away from the academy, towards the bartering vendors and the scent of fresh bread. Akilah rubs her temples, whining that had she known, she’d never have drunk so much . . .