Just the thought of breaking free breathed new life into her as she made her way to the throne room, where a council meeting was just letting out. She stood and waited as members of her father’s trusted circle brushed past her at the entryway.
“So pleased you’re feeling better, princess,” one bald, squat man said with a curt nod in her direction.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
Magnus was there among the councilmen, but he offered her no greeting, friendly or otherwise, as he slipped from the room like a shadow. Aside from the pleasantries they muttered during formal gatherings to keep up appearances, all of their interactions had been just as cold recently.
It wasn’t his fault that their relationship had soured—not entirely. The thought of their broken bond made her heart ache.
Once the last of the councilmen had departed, her father greeted her. “Lucia. It’s wonderful to see you, my dear.”
She’d practiced the words on her way through the still-unfamiliar corridors. Now all she had to do was say them.
“I’d like permission to leave the palace today,” she said, rushing to speak before she had the chance to doubt herself.
He raised his dark brow. “Would you, now.”
“I know you don’t think it’s safe, but I disagree. The city is walled and well secured. I’ll take several guards with me. But I—I can’t tell you how much I need to get out of here and breathe some fresh air. To see something new. Even the courtyard and gardens are oppressive to me now. I feel like a prisoner here.”
“Of course you’re not a prisoner, Lucia.” The king drew closer, his expression one of genuine concern. “You think I’d deny you this request?”
“I don’t know. I know you worry about my safety.”
He touched her cheek, a smile playing over the thin line of his mouth. “I’ve seen what you can do. I have no doubt you would be able to protect yourself if you were ever threatened.”
Her heart leapt. “Then you’re giving your permission.”
“And if I say no?”
A spark of anger ignited within her. “But why would you? I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me. Everything! You yourself said I can protect myself. And I can! I ask for one little thing in all these months and you would deny me—”
“Lucia,” he said, cutting her off. “I was merely asking rhetorically to see if you’d be willing to fight for what you want. I see now that you are, and that you came here knowing you would accept only one response from me. Good. I like to see that fire in you, that strength. If ever anyone tries to deny you something you want, then you just take it, no matter who they are. Is that clear?”
Lucia relaxed. The king was only imparting a lesson, one that she received happily. “Yes, Father.”
“However, I do suggest you consult a knowledgeable guide so as not to waste your valuable time on mediocre sites.”
She nodded eagerly, her heart thudding with anticipation. “I will.”
“Good.” He went to the long council table, glancing at the parchment and letters and formal documents still strewn on its surface from the meeting, then returned his attention back to Lucia. “Tell me, though—how is your magic coming along? Your control?”
The king asked her the same questions every day. He knew how much her abilities had troubled her in the past and had tried to find tutors to help her—so far to no avail. Her magic was more powerful than anything her tutors had encountered before. “Better, I think. I work on it every day.” On trying to repress it, to keep it from killing anyone else, she thought. “I try my best.”
“Of course. I expect no less. One day, very soon I hope, I will need to call upon your gift again to help me.” He nodded. “Now. Go enjoy your day in the city and the sun on your face. I will see you back for dinner.”
“Thank you, Father.”
Just when she had written him off as strict and cruel and oppressive, he showed that he could be the opposite. The way he had just looked at her, the same way he had ever since her first show of elementia, with pride and admiration and love . . .
It started to thaw the ice that had begun to settle in her heart.
The king had been unquestionably harsh with Magnus over the years, to ensure his son would grow up a strong and worthy heir. But he’d been nothing but kind and patient with Lucia.
She wanted so desperately to believe he loved her as if she were of his blood.
But you’re not, a small voice reminded her. He stole you from your true mother because of the prophecy. Because he wanted your magic for himself and no one else.
Despite that constant reminder in the back of her head, the king was her most constant supporter. Even in her most challenging moments, when she’d had no one else to turn to, he’d always assured her that she was a good person, that her powers weren’t evil or malicious or dark or hateful. They were good.