She entered the halls with heavy steps.

“Give me the next doc—” She stilled, only now noticing the annoyance that had entered her domain. She fixed the new irritating arrival with a glare.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, not caring to hide the disdain from her voice.

“Is this how you greet your honorable guests?” Layt snorted, taking a sip of his drink—the same drink she saw Aseel and Ilya enjoy earlier.

“There’s rarely anything honorable about the guests that step foot into my domain.” He hissed at her. “What brings you here?”

He huffed. He closed his light brown eyes—that often reminded her of the inside of an almond cake— as he savored the strange-colored liquid.

“So…” She tapped her foot impatiently on the marble floor.

“I heard something interesting was going on here. I thought I would save myself the trouble of waiting for tomorrow’s news and get first dips on the juicy details.” He tilted his head, his raven hair swaying slightly at the motion.

Talia narrowed her eyes. “Who told you? Was it Lamin?”

She won’t put it past her. She wouldn’t think twice before selling her out.

Layt took another sip of his drink, expressing suddenly smug.

“Quite delicious, I would say.” He grinned.

Talia turned slowly toward Aseel—and Ilya, who, for some reason, was still in the hall.

“You.” she didn’t need to elaborate. The culprit blinked innocent—or what he thought would make for innocent—eyes at her.

She scowled. How dare he tattle on her for a bubble tea. Were her secrets worth only this much? The fool could have gotten so much more if only he knew how to haggle. She knew for a fact that Layt would be willing to pay a good portion of his wealth if he thought he would be getting one of her well-kept secrets.

“I heard there might be a chance for the trials’ return. Is that true?”

Layt seemed almost giddy. She couldn’t fault him. Ife at Idir was rather dull, and her trials were one of the most prominent events that every Idirian looked forward to.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

Everyone.

“No. No trials, I’m afraid.”

Layt’s brows furrowed, his smile slipping minutely. “What? Are you certain? I heard you were quite enamored with some soul.” He waved his hand in the air in a dismissive manner.

“I’m not enamored with anyone. I’m afraid your source had a tad bit exaggerated on their accounts.”

Layt tsked. He sent a glare Aseel’s way before schooling his face into a neutral expression. Or what he thought was a neutral expression if a permanent scowl etched into his brows was one.

“If your curiosity is satiated, you’re free to leave.” She dismissed him.

Layt hesitated before asking, “Will there really be no trials?”

“No.”

“Are you afraid of failing again?”

“I’m not afraid of anything!” She gritted her teeth.

He shrugged a pleased smile at successfully riling her up. “I would have believed you had you not canceled them after that disastrous performance.”

She glared at him. “That performance had nothing to do with my decision.” Lies. “I merely see no reason for their continuation.”

They both knew she was lying, and the irritating man wouldn’t let it slide. He never did. He always nudged her right where it hurt like a shark sniffing blood. But she wouldn’t back down. One disastrous performance was one too many. Lamin had a festive year after those trials ran. Talia couldn’t hear the last of it. Wherever she went, she would find fingers pointing at her, snobbish Idirians whispering about the failures of the master of scales’ successor. She was surprised—but pleased—when Adyl hadn’t sent her a letter scolding her for the whole thing.

Before she could snap at the smug, uninvited guest, Aseel materialized next to her.

“The tea is ready for your appointment.”

Talia paused. Now of all times…

She glanced warily at Layt, whose expression turned to one of interest.

“Tea? Is it with that soul?’

“No,” she snapped at the same time Aseel said, “Yes.”

She shot him a scathing look. If he thought she would approve the next shipment from Earth, he was greatly mistaken. If he wanted something from there, or any other world, then he would best ask his new benevolent benefactor.

“Perfect.” Layt clapped his hands together. “I rather wanted to see what was so special about this soul that got you all flustered.”

“There’s nothing special about him,” she hissed.

“Well, I’m rather hurt. I thought we were at least friends.”

Talia stilled. She slowly turned toward the new voice, mind reeling. She spared a last glare at Layt’s delighted expression before fully facing the new arrival.

Weylin stood a few steps from the entrance, a small smile pulling at his lips. If he was truly hurt by her words, it certainly didn’t show.

She cursed under her breath. She should have stayed in her bed today. Or better yet, that fishing invitation was sounding rather alluring right now.