She couldn’t have slept for more than a few hours at most, even though it felt like she had not slept at all. She opened her eyes, unwillingly, to the sound of someone raising his voice. This voice was much hoarser and deeper than Sirahael’s and guttural, almost menacing without meaning to be.

It faded away as soon as she drew the green curtain, revealing whoever lurked beyond. She faced a man with eyes as black as the unbound darkness and round as pearls.

Strangely enough, the man also jumped up and flinched when she jerked in place and let go of the drape with an aghast gasp, blocking his view of her as quickly as the lightning.

The dark-eyed stranger muttered something narrowly audible then, it sounded like he cursed out, truthfully, but when she heard the other voice respond in an apologetic tone, she drew the drape again.

With wide-open eyes, she watched as Sirahael approached the crossed stranger, who was dressed in an azure cape made of the finest silk in the entire kingdom of men, or so it looked on the spur of the moment.

She locked eyes with the wizard, whose blond, short hair was exposed now that he was no longer wearing the hood over his head. He looked younger than she imagined, perhaps in his early twenties and certainly not a day older.

But Sirahael didn’t hold her gaze. His absolute attention returned to the dark-eyed man, who kept muttering something to himself.

The figure, she noticed at that moment, also had his hair pulled back into a ponytail – it reached all the way to his kneecaps! The man appeared as strong and as youthful as Sirahael at first, but it became hard to tell as the seconds passed.

He looked like he knew how to wield a sword, much like the knights and guards they had passed. Yet he dressed elegantly and masterfully, effeminate yet masculine, almost as if he were a high and mighty nobleman who knew no swordsmanship. But she could tell that he was anything but feeble.

“This is the lad I’ve mentioned,” Sirahael said, gesturing towards her as she struggled to get out of the covers. The man raised his eyebrows, baffled and in disbelief. He eyed her up and down before breaking off.

“This… scrawny thing you mean to tell me?”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“I dare say, we were all skinny and wet behind the ears at one point, weren’t we, good master?”

The dark-eyed stranger grunted and studied her from head to toe again without replying. Then he turned to face Sirahael, who had been patiently waiting with his hands clasped behind his back.

“And, so what you want me to do is…?”

“Take him on as your apprentice, as we agreed.”

The man flared up in an instant, ready to defend himself, but the blond wizard cut him off just in the nick of time.

“I- I never said I was going to accept him! I said, very clearly, that—”

“It’s been a while since Levi left the guild. Don’t you miss being a master? The thrill of having someone look up to you and follow in your footsteps?”

The man froze, avoiding Sirahael’s gaze. He muttered to himself. “I won’t be teaching for a while…”

Sirahael glanced at her as if to assure her that everything was under control, then pulled a half-hearted smile at her and winked. She blushed and turned her face away.

“It’s been ten years, Gavon, ten long and enduring years! Do you know what they say about you in Mahgrad?” Sirahael paused until the dark-eyed figure responded to his claims with a grunt. “On second thoughts, I bet you already know.”

Gavon pursed his lips, intent on not replying to the blond wizard, but the fiery look in his dark eyes gave away his fury.

“They say you’ve aged, that you’re no longer a mage and merely a puppet for the lords you serve!”

“And you, more than anyone, are aware that I serve no one but myself!” Gavon threw in the towel at last and sneered. “I know what you’re up to, but I tell you, your petty tricks don’t work on me! I’m almost as old as your father, you little—”

“What if I told you,” the blond wizard said, pausing for a few seconds to make sure he had Gavon’s undivided attention. “That everything I said to you… was true? Everything.”

Arlena gulped; thousands of thoughts raced through her mind at once. He couldn’t have told this- this Gavon, she reasoned, who she was, right? Right?

The dark-eyed master squinted, deep in his own musings, as he peeked at her for the nth time. His small eyes became even smaller than they already were. When he finally broke the silence, her heart sank, and she realised that not one but two wizards now knew her real identity.

“A child of the Queen, you say?”

Sirahael nodded. “You have my word on it, master.”

The dark-eyed master’s lips curled into a grin, and his voice became fraught with awe and horror all at once.

“You must’ve lost your mind, son! If your father, the king, gets wind of—”

“He won’t, not as long as you help me out,” Sirahael said. “So what’s your answer?”

Arlena took a step back and almost tripped over the wooden bed. She stared at Sirahael, more surprised than anything else, as she tried to make sense of what she had just heard. The king, as in…?

With a gentle smile on his lips, Sirahael returned her concerned stare and distorted her thoughts. That was when she finally remembered the name of Vaceran the III’s only heir. How in the whole world did she forget something so important!?