Page 7 of To Catch a Prince

“Tell your sister she needs to find an alternate line ofemployment.”

She chuckled, turning to Laya. “So, you’re to tell me you have no use of this,either.”

Laya shrugged. “I could wear it, I suppose. But take it as an apology. One glance at you and I hated you because, well,” she waved in her general direction, “all this. Yet, you’re the least precious woman I’ve ever encountered. I’ll remember in the future. Prettiness doesn’t make other women wicked. Take it, and let’s be friends. I’ll be by your side when all the hunks float towards you. Who knows? I may just have a chance with the ones youdismiss.”

Talia blushed. She wasn’t accustomed to being called pretty; nor would any woman born under the same roof as Aleria. But, throwing her new dress on and admiring its fit in the mirror standing in her bedroom as Trudy tightened her back ties, she did, in fact, notice that she lookedwell.

But she wondered what they would have thought if they’d met Aleria, rather than her. No doubt Laya might have kept her dress toherself.

“You’ll let me thank you both for these,” she said, thinking of the gold in her purse. “I’ll owe you agift.”

Both women were quite indifferent to the notion of being thanked,however.

“None of that betweenfriends.”

Now,they sat next to her around a triangular table, listening to a master who told them of the history of their world. Not just what was common knowledge, but also the secrets that were kept from the common folks, like the great Rift between dragons and the rest of the world. Of that, Talia knew but little, yet she was even more fascinated by tales of the older world, the previous era. The tall, grave mage who spoke to them was too old for her to admit it out loud, but he was quite handsome, despite the fact that his beard and hair were completely white. His voice was deep, low and enticing. When they’d asked his name, he’d replied, “You may call me Tutor, for that is all I amhere.”

Talia should have taken notes, but she was too stunned and enthralled to do much with herhands.

“Wait, you’re saying that the old architecture, in those dreadful, tall ruins, werehouses?”

“And offices, and stores, yes. This world was very different back then. The wars that destroyed it would have entirely obliterated all life on earth, if humans had been left to their own devices. Thankfully, they were not. The gods that look over us, even as we speak, have never let any race destroy the world we all share irrevocably. Our world was saved by the one they call The Once and Future King. But I digress, and that is a longer story than we have time for today.” Talia pouted. She pouted,hard.But she wouldn’t be the one to interrupt a lesson to beg for more detail. Resolving to research the subject at another time, she stayed silent and listened. “We’re running through the history of mages born of human flesh, your kind.” Talia frowned, noticing how he didn’t include himself in that category, although he certainly didn’t look like an elf, or a fae; shifters rarely could do magic. What was he, then? “Does anyone amongst you know the distinction between the different kinds of mortal magicusers?”

Everyone raised their hands, but the Tutor turned to her, no doubt because of the red dress acting as a beacon. The Tutor may very well be a hundred years old, but he was a man, nonetheless. “Yes,Miss…?”

“Astria. Folks call us all mages these days, but, technically, there are four kinds of human magic users. Witches and wizards, who use either the power of their ancestors or natural elements. Warlocks, whose powers come from an immortal parent. Alchemists, who blend magic and sciences. And finally, Sorcerers, the highest of our order. They may be a blend of the three otherkinds.”

The Tutor inclined his head respectfully. “Quite, Miss Astria. So, we have four types of magic users. And every year, in every human kingdom, the ruling authority calls young mages like you, who have displayed great qualities in your studies. We feed you, entertain you, and instruct you, ensuring that the twelve of you go home with more knowledge about our world. Any ideawhy?”

“To prepare us?” Guillaume offered, when he was asked to speak. “In case another war breaksout.”

“Young mage, if the outcome of the next war depends on two months of studies, we’re quitedoomed.”

They all chuckled. Laya guessed, “So that we may teach the rest of theworld?”

The Tutor rolled his eyes. “Like you were taught all these things? Certainly not. Most of you will keep this knowledge to yourselves. With no books to back you up, people will think you mad,otherwise.”

Goodpoint.

She was itching to share her opinion, but even she knew that to answer two questions would brand her as a teacher’s pet wannabe. She looked around; as no one raised their hand, she tentatively liftedhers.

“There hasn’t been a Sorcerer in a hundred years. They’re supposed to be the best of us, those who can actually fight evil dragons and go on great quests to defeat darkness. Those who make it to the stories we tell children at night. I wonder if you may be trying to find a new one,sir.”

The mage’s piercing eyes snapped to her, and she felt something in his gaze, something that made her wonder why he was teaching kids, rather than wrestling dragonshimself.

He smiled. “Well, Miss Astria, aren’t you a surprise.” Then, turning to the rest of the class and releasing her from his intense scrutiny, he announced, “We are, indeed, searching for the next Sorcerer - or Enchantress, should it be ashe,this time around. And you’re this year’spickings.”

5

The Shadow

Two monthslater

“Don’t be afraid.”

After months in Leyres, learning more in a few weeks than she had in years of studies at home, she’d come to trust the enigmatic Tutor with piercing eyes. Still. The strange instrument he wielded now, intending to use on her, would have made any girlsqueamish.

Talia had been asked to take a seat in a lush, comfortable beige chair and the Tutor had given her a sweet, refreshing drink; too strong to be wine, too delectable to be of thisworld.

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