Page 30 of Prince of Shadow and Ash

She stiffened. “Thank you, but I can find my way on my own. I won’t tear you away from your party—”

“Adelaide, please.” Nolan placed his hand on her shoulder and stepped in closer. “There is no party with you gone.”

She willed herself not to laugh or gag.Etiros, spare me.

“Youare the reason for hosting this event; the only reason I care about this party at all. Please.” He looked like a puppy begging for scraps from the table. His hand slid down her arm and he took her hand. “I don’t need to dance. Just...sit with me. Stay with me.”

How in Monparth was she supposed to respond tothat? Especially when all she could think about was getting some space to herself?

Nolan took another step closer and placed his free hand on the side of Adelaide’s neck. Her heart leapt into her throat. “Don’t leave,” he breathed. His gaze fell to her lips as his thumb caressed her cheek.

“I...I’m sorry.” Adelaide yanked her hand free and made as hasty a departure as possible without sacrificing all decorum.

Once in her room and dressed in her nightgown, she found sleep evaded her, so she paced. Too many thoughts swirled in her mind—most related to the fact every noble at the party would suspect an impending courtship.

She despised Nolan’s cockiness and disregard for her personal space. And his vehemence toward Lord Regulus. It didn’t seem Nolan had ever eventriedto get to know Regulus or hear his side of the story. He just hated Regulus because his mother was a peasant. Didn’t Regulus deserve a chance to defend himself and his own honor?

As Adelaide paced, her irritation mounted. Her palms warmed as magical energy coursed through her. She needed a distraction. Something to do, something else to focus on. She held her hand out and her palm filled with eggshell-blue light. She focused on the light, drawing it out of her palm and into a tight, dense orb. She expanded the orb, letting it grow until it was as large as her head, but still hovering above her palm.

“Now the real test,” she murmured. She raised her palm and concentrated on sending the orb up. A grin spread over her face as the orb floated above her, illuminating the entire room.

But could she do something else now? Walk away? Do other magic, even? She conjured a dagger—a trick she had been practicing every chance she got ever since she first tried it. The solid light dagger now materialized as desired about eighty percent of the time. She gripped the simple dagger in her hand and laughed in delight when the orb stayed in place.

Oh, yes!Her spirits fell as she looked around the empty room.If only I could share this with someone.

The first time she hit the bullseye on a target with a throwing knife, she was seven. “That’s my little tigress,” Mother had said in Khast. Father had kissed her forehead and said he was proud. Minerva and Adelaide then spent the afternoon competing to land more bullseyes. Minerva was only a little disappointed when Adelaide won. But practicing magic? That earned her the opposite reaction. Dread and reprimands instead of pride. Like when she quenched the fire in front of Minerva.

The dagger faded, and the orb flickered out. Adelaide flopped onto the bed and stared at the dark green canopy above her. Keeping secrets made her feel so alone. But did she have a choice?

“It’s too dangerous,Tha Shiraa,” Mother’s warning to her at age five had been seared into her mind. “No one knows who or what was behind The Shadow. We don’t want them to come for you, too.”

The Shadow. Most people didn’t talk about the massacre of the mages, but when they did, it was with terrified reverence. Mages had never been abundant in Monparth, but Father said mages once did everything from farming to working as healers to leading warriors in battle.

Then mages started turning up dead. Murdered. Killed in their sleep. An arrow through their neck as they went about their daily tasks. Poisoned in their own homes. Some were found dead with no visible cause. Within weeks, every single mage within Monparth, from infants to the elderly, was dead.

Initially, some had thought the killings ordered by King Olfan, the current king’s father, to prevent sorcerers. Olfan’s eldest son had been a mage, but Monparthian law forbade mages from inheriting the throne. Too much power for one individual, too much risk of a mage becoming a sorcerer—and the history of sorcerer-kings was written in blood. The prince had disappeared for several years only to reemerge as a sorcerer and attempt regicide—or patricide. The court mages drove him out, hunted him down, and killed him. A year later, mages started being murdered. Then the court mages were slaughtered, and people stopped blaming the king. No one was ever caught.

A few years later, Adelaide’s magic escaped for the first time. She was three. And she’d been hiding ever since. If the worry The Shadow would kill her wasn’t enough, the only living mage in Monparth would be valuable—for healing, for protection, for war. And as Father said, above all else, men with power crave more power. Her parents insisted she not practice magic and tell no one. Not even her half-siblings knew.

That was the real reason she wouldn’t court Nolan, beyond his prejudice against Regulus. Something deep in her gut warned her she couldn’t trust Nolan with her secret. And if she couldn’t tell him the truth, she couldn’t marry him. Again she wished Regulus had come. She wanted to talk to him, find out if he seemed trustworthy, or if Nolan was right. She made a face at the canopy.Why, so you can court him? Stop being ridiculous.

Someone knocked on the door and Adelaide jumped.

“Adelaide?” Minerva’s voice.

Adelaide answered the door, and Minerva entered, a deep furrow between her brows. “Are you all right? Sir Carrick said you weren’t feeling well.”

Adelaide slumped against the door as she closed it. “I’m fine. I just...needed some space.” She looked at Minerva accusingly. “Did you see his clothes? Did you know—”

“Heavens, no!” Minerva’s eyes widened. “Lady Drummond is very proud of herself. She thinks you’ll thank her later. I was horrified and told her as much. I’m so sorry, Ad.”

“Well, good.” Adelaide forced herself to keep a straight face. “Because I had sworn to never speak to you again if you had anything to do with it.” She smiled, and Minerva laughed.

“I take it you don’t care for him?”

Adelaide twirled a ribbon on her dressing gown around her finger. “He’s...haughty. Self-absorbed. I think he hates Lord Hargreaves simply because he’s illegitimate, which is ridiculous.” She let the ribbon unravel and fall off her finger. “Maybe it’s unfair of me, but I don’t trust him.”

“Thank Etiros.” Minerva’s relieved tone surprised Adelaide. Min sat on the edge of her bed. “I honestly don’t like him, either. I overheard some ladies claiming Nolan Carrick’s charm has...undone a few women. I hate unsubstantiated rumors, but it makes me uncomfortable.”

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