Page 59 of Lost Heir
“Lyanna!” Marcellus called out to me as I walked out of the dining hall on my way back to the Eastern palace. “Wait up!”
I turned around with a raised brow. “Yes?”
He looked around to make sure no one was close enough to listen before whispering, “I heard something happened after we left Mother’s display in the Grand Hall last night.”
So rumorshadspread, just not through Caelan. Interesting. “Caelan paid me an unexpected visit last night … and Ronan was around.”
“Oh …oh!” he gasped as he caught on to my insinuation. “Lyanna, you haven’t …”
I rolled my eyes. “Marcellus, this isnota conversation I want to have with my baby brother,” I sighed. “We can talk about anything but this.”
He nodded. “Deal. So what did Caelan do?”
“He wanted to fight Ronan, what else? I expected him to run straight to Mother and tell her all the sordid details, but she didn’t mention anything at breakfast. It was … strange, don’t you think?”
“Do you think Caelan is planning something?” Marcellus asked carefully.
“Definitely. Which was why I brought up the blood weaving. I need to prepare for whatever is to come,” I admitted. “Being a blood mage will only take me so far. I need to get stronger, more powerful.”
Marcellus rubbed his lower lip. “Hmm … I’ll be honest, Lyanna, I don’t think Father is planning to help you learn anything. Especially with Mother being so against it.”
I shrugged. “I figured, but I thought I’d ask anyway. I guess I’ll just have to figure it out on my own.”
My brother’s eyes widened. “Oh, can I help? I want to see what blood weaving is about!” he said eagerly.
I chuckled. “You want to help me learn?”
He nodded. “Yeah, why not?”
I eyed him for a moment, wondering if he had someulterior motive. When I couldn’t find any indecision or manipulation in his gaze, I nodded. “Fine. Meet me in the Eastern garden after lunch. We’ll start today.”
His eyes lit up with excitement, and I saw a spark of his usual mischief. “Are you serious? This is going to be epic!” He clapped excitedly. “But, uh, youdoknow how to start, right?”
I paused as the weight of his question sank in. Sir Edric only had time to provide a broad overview of blood weaving, nothing more. “We'll figure it out,” I assured him, though I felt a twinge of uncertainty myself. “I'm sure there are some books in the library we can check out. We’ll start there.”
“Books? I was hoping for something more hands-on,” Marcellus grumbled, but the curiosity was evident in his tone. “Alright, count me in. This will be far better than any lesson at the Mage Academy.”
The Mage Academy. Yet another experience that was stolen from me when I had to disappear and go into hiding.
Marcellus bounded off, excited for our new venture. I smiled at his enthusiasm. It was a rare moment where the Prince of Valoria seemed more like an eager child than the heir to the throne. But his reaction reminded me of the seriousness of the path on which I was about to embark. Blood weaving wasn't a game or a mere curiosity to be explored on a whim. It was a potent and potentially perilous art that could very well change the course of our lives.
I spentthe morning in the library, pouring through a stack of books longer than my arm. When I returned to the Eastern palace with another mountain of books, I was surprised to find Ronan waiting for me. I asked Tessa tobring the books to my chamber so I could greet my guest. She grabbed the books out of my hand and headed down the corridor.
I walked over to Ronan, who was seated at a table in the gardens, the top covered by a brightly colored tablecloth and silver place settings. “What are you doing here?” I raised a brow and waved at the table. “And what is all this?”
He frowned. “Did you forget already? We’re supposed to have lunch together.”
“Oh! By the goddess, I forgot all about it!” I sat across from him with a sheepish expression. “I’m sorry, my mind has been elsewhere all morning.”
“Did your father bring us up during breakfast?” Ronan asked carefully.
I shook my head. “No. No one mentioned a thing. It was odd,” I mumbled. “But I’m sure Caelan is up to something. I can almost guarantee it.”
“And you’re most likely right.” He waved for one of my ladies-in-waiting to bring over our lunch. “I took a little trip to the capital this morning and thought you’d enjoy some wine,” he smirked.
“Love in the Moonlight?” I gasped. “You sure know the way to my heart.”
“Of course I do!” he laughed.
