Page 13 of The Chaosweaver's Daughter
They gazed up at her, eyes definitelynotclosed.
“I’ve got you, don’t worry, it’s all right to relax.” Adella burrowed into her chest, and Ataht tucked himself beneath her arm. “Now take a deep breath through your nose... and out through your mouth.”
The twins kept up their breathing while she murmured reminders that the dragon was not real, it was only a silly squeaking shell they created, it was harmless—a lie, but a critical one in the moment—and that they had to relax together and wish it gone as a team.
She heard thepopas the creature vanished.
“My little royals,” Nesrina began, and the ten-year-olds peeled open their eyes, “that was an interesting first lesson, wouldn’t you say?”
They relaxed in her hold.
“Is it gone?” Della whispered.
“It is. I know that was very scary, but you were fantastic at remainingcalm and releasing the magic you created.”
“How did we do it together?” Ataht asked. “We haven’t done that before.”
Miss Kiappa released the kids and dipped slightly, bringing herself eye level with the two of them. “Naughtbirinscome in pairs. You have a powerful twin connection, and since you were imagining the same thing at the same time, you created ittogether.Which one of you can make light?”
“Me!” Adella proclaimed. “Like Dad.”
“I do hot and cold,” Ataht announced. “Like no one.”
“That’s not true,Ican influence temperature too. It looks like you have fun gifts to explore. But with our type of magic, only the weaver can release their own illusion. When you make something together, you have to be extra conscious of that.”
They looked at her curiously. “We don’t understand,” Adella replied on behalf of her and her sibling.
She chuckled. “You will, in time. Tomorrow we’ll practice releasing what we create. And my friends...?”
“Yes?”
“What do you say we keep this between us?”
They eagerly agreed, tension melting from their frames. She felt the same relief at deciding not to tell the royals about the mayhem, and a greater sense of calm when she spied the handsome guard approaching their outdoor classroom.
TheDukeofStormhillwent straight back to the library after lunch. He’d been forced by his sister to join her for yet another meal. Eating wasn’t the problem; it was breaking from his work that bothered him. But, as always, once Hevva ripped him from his reverie and had him seated with a plate in his face and her conversation in his ear, he enjoyed himself—enough.
Back in the company of books, where he felt most secure, Kas selected one of the chairs on the upper balcony overlooking the west lawn to,hopefully, get back to his holiday. Opening his text and the notes he’d been carrying around, he settled in.
With his two estates in the safe hands of his stewards, he’d arrived at the palace on a dual-purpose mission the week before: to visit his family, and further his pleasure projects in the two large libraries. The trip went to plan for several days. He worked in the morning, lunched with his sister, worked in the afternoon, dined with the family, played with the twins, worked in the evening, slept, and repeated. It was a steady routine. Until it wasn’t.
First, she was in the grand hall.Her. His distraction. The woman from the bloody symposium.
Kas’s heart had beat so hard he thought it might crack a rib. He’d lost control of his magic for the first time in over a decade, inadvertently hitting her with a breeze before pulling back and pretending he hadn’t seen her approach. It had been two years—one year and ten months, to be exact—and she’d never seen him. But she did then. And he botched it, of course.
Then his sister, or the fates, he wasn’t sure whom, decided to fuck with him by putting the mysterious woman in the room next to his suite.Then,she turned up at dinner. Though he couldn’t say he minded her presence, any of the times, in any of the places, it threw him off kilter. It messed with his plans.
After so many years of wondering who she was, he’d been mortified to learn she was the daughter of Hothan Tarisden. But he wasn’t totally surprised. It made sense. He’didolizedthat man as a teenager, corresponded with him for many years until they eventually lost touch. It saddened Kas to hear of his passing, and he’d need to make his condolences known. He just couldn’t believe he didn’t realizeshe,the woman from the symposium, was Hothan’s daughter. To be fair, Hothan was very tall, and Miss Kiappa was very short... still, their intellect should’ve tipped him off.
Earlier that morning, he was deep in an article on the lexical differences between the people of western and eastern Selwas when she surprised him. He hadn’t been on his best behavior, scolding her for her food, but thenexttime they conversed, Kas vowed to do better and stop being such a curmudgeon. It wasn’t her fault he’d scheduled these three weeks specifically tofreehis mind of distractions, so he could make headway on his personal work. His dukedom and his earldom consumed quite a lot of time, and Kas was counting on his holiday.
Now she was there, twenty or so feet away, following behind his rambunctious niece and nephew as they made their way out onto the west lawn, marring—no, enhancing, definitely enhancing—his idyllic view.
She was in the same pale pink dress as when she’d interrupted his morning work. Miss Kiappa was too far to see in detail, but Kas recalled the way the floral fabric clung to her curves up close.
Work.He was supposed to be doing work. This washistime, no mining efforts to strategize for his earldom, no agricultural efforts to weigh in on for the dukedom, no construction projects under way—just him and his books and whatever topic he felt like exploring next.
The problem was, he’d committed to a subject and had a product to deliver, but Miss Kiappa was inadvertently pushing his focus to the wayside.
