Prince Fernando
Dario and I entered my father’s study. The guards shut the doors behind us with a harsh thud, a sound that marked our ability to speak in private.
My father’s brown eyes flicked between Dario and me. I’d inherited my mother’s jade green eyes. Everything else, from my average height to semi-broad bone structure, came from my father. The way the lines creased between his graying eyebrows made my gut clench. I was not my mother. I deserved his trust. A part of me begged to look past my irises and see his firstborn - his heir. But the grown man in me pushed such childish thoughts aside. As the future king, I should be present and privy to the information I needed to eventually rule this realm.
Dario bowed in reverence.
“Nando, why don’t you-”
I cut him off. “Don’t ask me to leave. Either demand it as king, or allow your heir to hear the information he should already know.”
My father’s lips thinned into a tight line, making his mouth almost disappear into his brown and gray beard. “You are my heir because I made it so. Respect your king, your father, or I might give this title you hold so dear to someone else.”
His words found their mark, and despite my best efforts, my shoulders fell. “Forgive me. I meant no disrespect. Dario discovered something during our ride that he refused to divulge to me. If you want to replace me, perhaps the next assassin will succeed and save you the trouble.” My emotions were getting the better of me. Curses.
I stiffened my posture and waited for him to force me out. Dario glared at me. If he didn’t purposefully shut me out, I wouldn’t have needed to criticize him before the king.
“Nando,” my father breathed. “Don’t mistake my discipline for a lack of affection.”
I bit the side of my cheek. The pain focused me, kept my expression still. Once again, he mixed fatherly kindness with a king’s cruelty, and working through his antics required all my concentration. Any sign of weakness, and I’d lose.
Before Dario could wipe the smirk off his face, the king focused on him.
“What did you find?”
His eyes widened, and his gaze flicked back to me. “Do you wish to be alone, Your Majesty?”
“Not today. Tell me what you discovered.”
It was my turn to smirk. The king wouldn’t respond to my words, but he allowed me to stay.
Dario fumbled, but then explained. “I felt all the magic users that we’ve already listed, but I sensed a healer in the city.”
I jerked. A healer?
My father nodded. “I heard rumors of a healing yesterday outside the temple.”
“This is likely the same person,” Dario responded.
“Did you discover her identity?”
“I memorized her face and recognized the linguist, Mr. Guo, who requested the mysterious woman.”
My heart raced. We needed to retrieve her as soon as possible, but I held my tongue. The king decided such things, and I dared not pressure him further.
Bolin
I began my work with Stella by comparing her vernacular with the Celestia grammar in my old texts. These ancient volumes required the utmost care, as the glue binding the parchments had become weak with age. I breathed in, savoring the unique fragrance only such books contained. The smell of knowledge.
Stella sat in the wooden chair opposite me in the kitchen, as the large dining table was the best surface for the three texts I needed out. My Celestia words flowed with less difficulty as we worked.
Patrick rested in a rocking chair a couple of steps away from us and took meticulous notes as we conversed.
I switched back to the common tongue, Astralini, just for a moment. “Have you noticed that her grammar most closely resembles the oldest text?”
Patrick ceased his scribbling. “Odd.”
“Why would she only remember the most ancient dialect?”
“Why would she speak it at all?”
Stella interrupted, “What are you saying?”
I smiled and mentally prepared my response in Celestia. “I asked Patrick to write a note. That’s all.”
The lines running across her forehead softened. “Oh.”
Patrick murmured in Astralini, “Perhaps we should teach her some of our language as well.”
I pursed my lips and shook my head. He dropped it and I returned to quizzing Stella on how she phrased sentences. We had no time to teach her anything, not if we hoped to gather enough information to write an entire volume on her before her family claimed her.
A sharp knock at the front door, followed by resounding brass horns, made all of us jump out of our seats.
A royal visit? Here?
Stella stared at me, wringing her hands.
Stella
Bolin rushed to answer the door. Patrick set aside his parchment and quill. I stood, afraid to move after that horrific sound.
Language I didn’t understand flooded the front of the house and two men in violet coats entered the kitchen before I could think. One with shortly cropped brown hair and a hard expression motioned to me and spoke gibberish. Patrick responded in a gentle tone, calming my erratic heartbeat.
The second guard, a short man with black hair and dark brown eyes, stood a few steps behind the stern one. They would have looked handsome in their deep purple jackets and black trousers if I hadn’t been terrified.
“Stella, these are royal guards. They request you to come with them to meet King Sartorius.”
My mouth went dry and the headache from earlier rushed back with a vengeance. The king wanted to see me? Why?
“What did I do?” I rasped.
The stern guard spoke, but Patrick motioned for them to be quiet and said something fast. Then he returned his focus to me.
“You’ve done nothing wrong. You have healing magic, and that is why the king wants to meet you. Don’t be afraid.”
I gulped deep lungfuls of air. Don’t be afraid. He likes my healing abilities. I nodded.
Bolin burst into the kitchen with a flurry of heated words. The guards bristled and one took my forearm. I jerked away with a yelp.
“What do they want?” I yelled.
Bolin strode to my side and wrapped a protective arm around my shoulder. “I’m going with you,” he said softly near my ear. Then he spoke with authority to the men standing before us.
How did such strength emanate from him? These guards listened to him with respect, and did not argue. They responded, I assumed with positivity, to Bolin’s assertion of accompanying me.
“You need me to translate. I’ll escort you and not leave your side,” Bolin said. Some of the knots in my middle untied themselves.
I had amnesia. I needed my new friends.
“Shall I follow?” Patrick asked.
“No. Don’t stress your leg, my treasure. We’ll come back tonight, I’m sure.”
Patrick nodded, but I didn’t believe the sentiment. Not for a moment. I appreciated them speaking in Celestia, so I could understand. Maybe we’d return, but something deep inside me knew it wouldn’t be soon.
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