“Whether he does or not, I need to be ready to deal with it.”
Lessa stopped mid-step, uncertainty in her soft, silver stare. “We’ve been spending a lot of time together lately, and…” She sighed, visibly self-conscious. “I’m not getting in your way, am I? I don’t like thinking that you might get hurt one day because you spent time with me instead of focusing on your studies.”
“You’re still thinking about what Master said?” He grabbed her hand and led them onward, converting all of the snow on the next twenty paces of pathway into water and then gathering it into a ball that he dropped into the frozen confines of a nearby fountain. “Don’t pay him any mind. He only thinks about fighting, drinking and eating, so of course he would look at a girl as a distraction.”
“But he seemed so displeased.”
“That’s just how he is. Actually, I’d say that he was in quite a good mood today.”
“All he did was critique and complain, though?”
“Fitting words for his tombstone, I should think. Trust me, he was in high spirits today.” Likely, Tramon had gotten his hands on a choice bottle of spirits and was simply eager to indulge in his favourite pastime. He was probably happy that Alistar was skipping out on his lesson.
“If you say so,” said Lessa, appearing unconvinced. Raising a mitten-covered hand, she cleared the next stretch of pathway by about twenty paces, though she simply allowed the gathered water to drop onto a patch of frozen earth a short ways away from the pavement. “Ah, I ran into Corrie earlier while I was passing by the library. He said he wanted to talk to you about something.”
He did?
Corrie usually sought out Alistar to discuss certain works that had caught his eye in the collegia’s library, or to exchange suggestions on interesting literature.
“He probably wants advice on his spellwork. He only knows a few spells, but he’s surprisingly good at controlling them. You’ve got a talent for ice magics, so you should practice with us sometime.”
“I wouldn’t call it a talent.”
As someone from a noble line that was directly tied to the kingdom’s royal lineage, Lessa had a large amount inner energies and also a strong affinity for water magics. While it wasn’t the case for most people, it was still quite common for those talented in water-related arts to see similar degrees of adeptness with ice magics, and she was one such person.
Lessa agreed to visit the library after they finished their task, always happy to see a friend. This wasn’t meant to be, however, for twenty minutes after they had resumed clearing out the many pathways that ran throughout the collegia’s grounds she was approached by Priscilla, a slightly disapproving look on her sister’s fair face. As usual, her waist-length hair had been combed into long curtains of straight, shiny strands, her stride accented by an air of self-importance.
“Good morrow, Alistar,” said the older Silvus girl, who was only about a fingernail’s length taller than her sister and a couple shorter than Alistar. “Keeping an eye on our little rebel, are we? We’re lucky our Lessa’s made such a good friend.” Her eyes were a bit narrower than her sister’s rounder ones, a vibrant blue in comparison to the silver shade that characterized the stares of the rest of her family. She’d emphasized the last word of the sentence just as her gaze had settled upon their hands, which were still clasped to one another in absentminded affection.
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“If I don’t look out for her,” he said, unfazed, “then who will?”
Doing a poor job of hiding her displeasure, Priscilla said, “Ah, yes. I received a letter from Johan the other day, and he wanted me to give you his regards.”
“Everything’s well on his end, I hope?”
She lightened up a bit, excitement and pride defining her voice. “Very much so. He’s the count of Hapselen now, so he’s terribly busy. Still, it won’t be long before Lessa and I make the move to Valay, at which point I’ll be able to see him much more often. I’m absolutely over the moon about it, though I wish some people would hurry up with their studies so that we can leave sooner rather than later.”
“Did you need something?” snapped Lessa, visibly displeased. “I already told Mother that I’d be out for most of the day, and she didn’t seem to have a problem with it.”
“I’m not the only one who received a letter from their beloved. Lord Edgar has written to you about his happiness at your engagement, and the excitement he feels in anticipation of finally getting to meet you in the coming months.”
For the first time since Alistar had met her, Lessa grew angry. Pale brows furrowed, she met her sister’s gaze with a firm stare and then spoke in a biting tone. “He’s not my beloved, and I still haven’t acknowledged this engagement. I’d rather become a commoner than marry that creepy old codger.”
“Humph, you’re lucky Father isn’t here to hear such disrespect. He’s clothed us, housed us and provided us with a level of convenience that you seem to be taking for granted. Now that it’s your turn to step up for the best interests of the family, all you’ve done is think of yourself.”
“That’s easy for you to say, being engaged to the man you like. I wonder how you’d behave if you were in my shoes?”
Johan and Priscilla were engaged? Inconsequential though it was, Alistar had been under the impression that the two of them were in a similar situation as he and Lessa, and so was surprised to hear this. The Silvus family was, after all, lower nobility.
“I would make the family proud by doing my duty. Now stop this foolishness and come home with me. You’re being unsightly in front of a peer.”
“I’ll come home, but only to tear up that stupid letter in front of Father.” Turning to Alistar, she gave him a reassuring look and squeezed his hand in an affectionate manner. “I’ll meet you at the Lawson’s place for supper. This shouldn’t take long.”
He was overly aware of Priscilla’s eyes as Lessa planted a deliberately intimate kiss on his left cheek. Seeing this, the older girl’s frown deepened.
“I’ll see you later, then. Let’s say, a few hours before sundown?”
“I’ll see you then, Alie.”
Pulling away with some reluctance, Lessa left with her sister, the two entering into a sharp, whispered conversation as soon as they began walking back down the freshly-cleared pathway. Mood souring, Alistar decided to distract himself by clearing away as much snow as possible from the many paths that snaked their way throughout the property. Once there were no more surfaces left to uncover, he inspected the library with his magical awareness only to find that Corrie was no longer around. Sensing this, he decided to head home to alleviate some stress by doing some practice swings with his short sword, which he’d made a habit of hardening with a reinforcement spell at the beginning of every training session.
He was greatly frustrated with the lord of Toulun and lately had found himself feeling the sort of heavy, negative emotions that he’d thought he had left behind in recent years. Hatred for those that abused their positions of power, and self-depreciation at his inability to resist the ravages of their whims.
Alistar never got around to entertaining a short training session, for he was surprised to find that Corrie had stopped by a short while ago to see if he was home and had been convinced by his cousin to stay for some tea. Anice had assured him that Alistar would be returning to the estate at any time—which had been a blatant lie to get Corrie to hang around in order to help stave off her boredom—and so both had seemed happy to see him when he entered the dining hall a short while later.
“You want help with casting a reinforcement spell?” asked Alistar after an absentminded sip of tea. “Hmm, it’s a bit difficult to describe that one. Why not learn a muffling spell? That seems to suit you more.”
Looking thoughtful for a moment, the other boy fixed him with a dark-eyed stare. “If I don’t learn the reinforcement spell then I’ll be a lot more limited in how I can make use of the ice I create. That said, I have always wanted to learn a muffling spell. Can you teach me both?”
“I’ll teach you the muffling spell, but I think it’ll be best if you learn the reinforcement one on your own.”
“How?”