Nevander is correct,Primrose says, and releases Seren’s awareness.You are capable.
Seren gasps back into the present moment. His nails dig into the luxurious rug, and his fine shirt sticks to his back with sweat. His chest heaves with exertion, even though he hasn’t moved.
He’s whole. He no longer frays at the seams. If Tansy sauntered back in, Seren would feel none of his sharp emotions—unless on purpose.
Nevander drops beside him. “Are you hurt?” he demands, hand falling to Seren’s back.
Seren has to catch his breath before answering. He feels exhausted, his body strange and raw beneath Nevander’s touch. Even more strange when Nevander lets go. But right. This is right.
“I’m not hurt,” Seren says, sitting back. “I just expected more meditation. Not whatever that was.”
Primrose’s ursine face is hard to read, but she exudes smugness.Nevander taught you the method for children. You are a prince. You must not just control your empathy, but use it.
Seren doesn’t want to use it. Except when he opens his mouth, he can’t muster the words. So that must be a lie.
“Thank you,” he says instead.
How well-mannered,Primrose rumbles.Quite unlike young Tansy.
That’s the second time she’s called Tansy young. “He’s the same age as me,” Seren points out.
And yet he’s younger of heart. Perhaps I spoiled him.Primrose lumbers to her feet.I would have liked to watch you grow as well. In lieu of lost years, what more do you wish to learn today?
Melancholy strikes, a dagger from within. There’s no magical trick to shutting out his own emotions. The bear’s words resonate with the life Seren lost before he was old enough to know it. He could have grown up in a palace with wonderful libraries. A queen for a mother, a bear for a teacher, and his stern, winged guardian.
Seren gets his feet beneath him, debating whether his shaky knees will let him stand. When Nevander offers a hand, Seren shoves aside pride and melancholy both, and allows Nevander to help him up.
“I want to learn everything,” Seren says, facing the great bear. “I feel like I’ve been thrust into a journeyman’s test, and I haven’t even started the apprenticeship. I’m missingtoo much about this place and its people. My people, supposedly. We were just in a room where every wall was painted a different season, but I’ve only heard about the Summer realm.”
Nevander squeezes his hand as if in reassurance.
Insightful.Primrose rears up on her hind legs. Petals scatter and vanish and grow.That is too much to tell at once. Shall I show you instead?
“Yes,” Seren agrees without thinking.
“Wait,” Nevander snaps, too late.
Seren’s vision darkens for an instant. Like the entire world blinks, then blooms into a flowering meadow. A riot of pink and green and lavender, the blossoms so bright Seren has to squint. Birdsong dances on the delicate breeze.
And Seren’s hand hangs empty at his side. He’s alone.
14
Compassion Like a Dagger
FurydrivesNevander’sswordto his empty hand, which held Seren not a breath ago. Teleportation is impossible within the palace, even for the First Ritekeeper. Which means Primrose has whisked Seren into her haven, with the flimsiest thread of consent.
“Bring him backnow,” Nevander snarls. Magic blurs the edge of his blade.
Shadows and light sharpen subtly, painting Primrose in greater contrast than the rest of the library. Power radiates from her. Not oppressive. A great beast of Summer doesn’t need to exaggerate her strength.
Nevander is no match for her, but his blade doesn’t waver.
He agreed to the demonstration,Primrose says, with enraging serenity.
She’s right, and Nevander will impress the importance of caution on Seren later. As soon as his prince is back where he belongs. “He knew not what he agreed to.”
How should he learn if you do all his thinking for him?