A Trial of Sorcerers: Book One

by Kova, Elise

  “It’s almost ten. It is certainly not early.” He pushed himself inside. “And if you don’t start dressing now, you’ll certainly make us late for court.”

  Oh, that was today. Eira cursed under her breath. “Well, get out then so I can get ready.”

  “Don’t want me to help you with the laces?” He grinned.

  “I don’t want you to help me with anything involving my clothes, thank you very much. Out with you.” She pushed him out the door, closing it with a smile. Since when had Cullen become someone she could laugh and joke with?

  Maybe she was just in a good mood in general, these days. Anything was better than the complex and ugly feelings that the revelation had placed in her. And she clung to any distractions from thinking about her family. The dress Cullen had procured for her certainly further helped her mood.

  Its long sleeves tapered to points over the backs of her hands, loops around her middle fingers holding them in place. The skirts were a bit looser this time, which afforded better movement. Though the top was more constricting and…

  “Was the neckline really necessary?” Eira asked as she opened the door. With one hand she trailed her fingers down the V of the dress—just a bit more scandalous than she generally preferred.

  Cullen leaned against the opposite wall in his formal clothes. He straightened at the sight of her. “It, uh—” He cleared his throat. “I’m told it’s the upcoming fashion.”

  “I don’t have the breasts to support this look.” Eira adjusted the shoulders of the dress once more.

  “You most certainly—” He stopped himself short. A scarlet blush streaked across his cheeks. Eira grinned. She hadn’t been trying to set him up for embarrassment. But seeing Cullen squirm was too much of a delight to not enjoy. Perhaps the tension with Ferro was overflowing into a mix of more confidence and flirtatiousness than Eira had ever possessed. “You look great once more. Shall we?”

  “I don’t have anywhere else to be.” Eira hooked her arm with his. “I’m yours for the next few hours.”

  He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, expression unreadable and in distinct contrast to the smile quirking his lips. “Thank you again for doing this. I couldn’t go alone today.”

  “Why not?” Eira followed him into the same passage as before, heading toward the main part of the palace.

  “Because of who will be there.”

  “Who will be there?” He didn’t answer and Eira stopped, holding him in place. “I’m fine to do this, Cullen. But you need to be honest with me. Is it someone I should worry about?” Because if this person made Cullen nervous then Eira certainly felt like she should be as well.

  “No, no. You’ll be fine. It’s…” He trailed off, unable to meet her eyes when he spoke next. “My father will be there today with his wife.” With his wife—not “my mother.” “I hate it when he’s there. Doubly so when she is.”

  “Then we’ll keep you distracted.” Eira squeezed his arm lightly and Cullen gave her a clearly skeptical smile.

  Entering the court a second time was a role reversal of the first. Eira, even though she wasn’t experienced in this world at all, was fairly calm. At least today there wouldn’t be any sneaking around. And when it came to family issues, well…she was swiftly becoming an expert in those types of messes.

  Cullen, however, was tense from the moment they crossed the threshold. The muscles in his jaw bulged. His eyes darted around, scanning every corner as if he were walking into a battlefield and not a fancy hall.

  “He’s not here yet,” Cullen murmured. “Mother bless, hopefully something came up with the senate.”

  “Your father is a senator, right?” Eira asked. The senate always made her prickle since the incident. She could still feel their eyes on her, judging her, awaiting their verdict…

  “Yes. Before that he served on the Eastern Council.” The origins of the senate stemmed from the East—formerly Cyven. When the first Emperor Solaris took over the East, he adopted the senate. It was intended to be a bridge between the emperor and the people as well as to handle minor affairs of state with the emperor having the final say. Really, Eira just saw it as a platitude with little real power.

  An opinion she usually kept to herself.

  “Can we go look at the painting of Risen again?” Eira suggested.

  “I’d love to.”

  As they started over, they were interrupted by a familiar woman, still bedazzled with western rubies. “Lord Cullen, you brought your friend again today. Airra, was it?”

  “Eira,” she corrected. “AYE-ruh.”

  “Yes, of course.” Lady Allora scrunched her nose slightly. Eira got the impression that she wasn’t accustomed to being corrected so brazenly. Allora turned her attention back to Cullen. “Are you and Eira an official item?”

  “Eira is a good friend, and one of the eight remaining Waterrunner candidates to be a competitor in the Tournament of Five Kingdoms,” Cullen said with what Eira would dare say was a defensive note.

  “I can see that.” Allora took note of the pin on Eira’s breast. “If you are chosen, I do hope you’ll do your best to support Cullen in his glory.”

  “I’ll do what I can.” Eira smiled thinly. As if Cullen’s glory was the only thing she and the other candidates were focusing on.

  “Please excuse us,” Cullen said stiffly, pulling Eira away. His usual grace was lacking today. No doubt due to stress.

  “It’ll be all right.” Eira squeezed his arm lightly.

  “I know; I really can’t stand her sometimes,” he murmured. “And I don’t have the patience for it today.”

  Eira laughed softly.

  “What?”

  “You surprise me is all, Cullen. You’re not the man I thought you were.”

  “That’s mutual,” he said softly. “You’ve surprised me countless times.”

  They came to a stop before the painting. Once more, the rest of the court was content to ignore the art, leaving them alone. Eira stayed focused on the canvas. But Cullen’s eyes were on her. She pretended not to notice. She wasn’t sure if he had intended for her to realize it or not.

  Eventually, the tension became too much for her. “She likes you, you know.”

  “What?” Cullen seemed startled.

  “Allora. She’s interested in courting you.”

  He grimaced. “I know.”

  “You’re not totally dense? Surprising for a man.”

  Cullen actually chuckled. “That’s a fair assessment I suppose.”

  “You…don’t return her affections?” Eira met his eyes.

  “I thought I did once, but…”

  “But?”

  “She’s the type of woman my father would want me to marry—that he tried to force me to marry.” A dark shadow crossed Cullen’s expression. “He claimed it’d further secure our position in society. That I have to because…”

  “Because?” Eira pressed. He kept stopping himself right before saying what felt like the most important part.

  “It’s nothing.” Cullen shook his head, retreating from the topic. Eira bit back a sigh, but didn’t persist. His secrets were his own and the echo of his worried voice was still in her ears.

  “Your father seems like a man who is ambitious.”

  “An understatement. He’s—” Cullen stopped, glancing over his shoulder at a commotion.

  A group of people collected by the door. A man was at their center, a spitting image of what Eira imagined Cullen would be in twenty to thirty years. His dark brown hair was salted and carefully coiffed back in a mirror of how the emperor wore his hair. Across his chest was the sash of a senator.

  At his side was a woman with short, blonde hair. She wore it half pulled back, pinned with a feathered and bejeweled clip. She had the body of a dancer and the eyes of a scholar.

  “He’s here,” Cullen finished with a grimace. “Let’s keep looking at the painting.”

  “Shouldn’t we go and say hello?” Eira asked. Cullen gav
e a light tug of his arm, drawing her attention forward.

  “I’d rather my father come over here and meet me on my terms.”

  “I’ll follow your lead,” Eira reassured him.

  Sure enough, they only had to wait a few minutes before the senator approached. Eira was surprised to see his dark brown eyes—nothing like Cullen’s bright amber. That must have been a trait he inherited from his birth mother.

  “My son, it’s good to see you.”

  “You as well, Father.” Cullen gave a bow of his head. It felt as though he was greeting a stranger and not his family. He turned and greeted the woman with a stiff, “Lady Patrice.”

  “Hello, Cullen,” Patrice said warmly. “Who is your guest today? Another candidate, I see.”

  “I’m Eira Landan.” Eira bowed her head as Cullen had.

  “Ah, Miss Landan…” Cullen’s father’s eyes narrowed slightly as his words trailed off. “I thought your name was familiar during the third trial.”

  Eira’s eyes widened slightly. Her day in court following the incident three years ago was fresh in her mind, sharpening despite time. This man’s face put her right back into the shoes of that girl, afraid and awaiting judgment.

  “It is you, isn’t it? The girl who murdered her peers.”

  “I… I didn’t…”

  “Father,” Cullen said sharply. “That’s not appropriate conversation for court.”

  “Of course not.” He chuckled, but there was a sinister note to it. “You might not remember me, but I led the senate investigation on the murder of a Tower apprentice.”

  I didn’t murder anyone, she wanted to scream. She’d killed them by accident. There was a difference. There had to be.

  “Father!” Cullen’s biceps tensed, drawing Eira slightly closer. “I think what my father is trying to say, is that his name is Yemir Drowel.”

  Yemir. Yes…she knew that name. She’d just made herself forget it. Like so much else she’d tried to wish away. Eira felt cold in the worst of ways.

  “It’s a good thing we didn’t lock you away. After the display of your talent, it would be a shame for the world to lose that.”

  “Thank you for the compliment,” Eira mumbled, mostly because she felt like she had to, and immediately hated herself for expressing gratitude to a man who was making her viciously uncomfortable.

  “Have you ever considered becoming an aide to a senator? I could think of a few uses for a young woman with your skills. Perhaps you could think of it as gratitude for what I did for you back then.”

  You tried to lock me away, Eira wanted to say. If Fritz hadn’t stepped in…

  “Eira is focused on the trials at present,” Cullen said briskly. “She doesn’t have time to become an aide to you or anyone else.”

  “Think about it is all I ask.” Yemir shifted his focus to his son. Eira bit back a sigh of relief. “I thought you and I might take a walk about the gardens. It’s been a while since we caught up, just you and I.”

  “I wouldn’t like to leave Eira alone since she is new to court.”

  “I would be happy to keep her company.” Patrice stepped to Eira’s free side, scooping up her hand and patting the back. “I shall introduce you to my friends.”

  “Good, that’s settled,” Yemir declared. “Come along, Cullen.”

  Eira thought the muscles in Cullen’s jaw would rupture from how tense they were. But he ultimately didn’t speak any objection, leaving her behind and going off with his father. Oddly, Eira was far more worried about Cullen than she was for herself. Now that she realized who Yemir was, she didn’t want to leave anyone alone with him.

  “So, Eira.” Patrice placed Eira’s hand in her elbow, beginning to stroll. “Tell me what your intentions are with my son.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Cullen is a handsome young man and one of the most eligible bachelors in Solarin.” She spoke with an easy smile, as though the fact was known by everyone far and wide. Eira, in fact, had not known it. But she never really had concerned herself with the power plays of nobles. That had always been more of Marcus’s aspiration. “He’s been hand-trained by the empress and is within her inner circle. He’s a lord, the son of a senator, and is likely to be a senator—if not Head of Senate—one day. Not to mention, he is also a viable candidate for Minister of Sorcery.”

  “My uncle is the Minister of Sorcery,” Eira said flatly.

  “Oh, how charming! Well then you know how prestigious a minister position is.”

  “I suppose.”

  “You seem like a smart girl, so I’m sure you can realize that Cullen must remain focused on his future. And that extends to who he surrounds himself with, if you follow.”

  Cullen’s mention of Allora was forefront in Eira’s mind. “You’re talking about who he courts, or marries.”

  “You’re so bold. So refreshing for court.” Patrice tittered as they turned the corner. “Yes, you’re right, I am. So, dear, you must understand that you simply cannot get any ideas. Yemir and I have Cullen’s best interests in mind, and he needs to marry of a particular station.” Which you are not, hovered in the air, unsaid.

  “Cullen is my friend,” Eira said flatly. “I’m not interested in him in any other way.”

  “Good. We have an understanding then.”

  They passed the open doors to court and, from the corners of her eyes, Eira saw Cullen storming off toward the castle. She stopped. “I have to go.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Excuse me. And, uh, it was lovely to talk with you.” Eira gave a nod of her head and hiked her skirts before starting down the gravel paths of the gardens. On her way to where Cullen had run off to, she passed by Yemir. He cast her a wary glance, one Eira returned.

  There would never be friendliness between them. Eira was certain of that.

  A whisper in a familiar voice had her slowing to a stop. She glanced between a nearby bench and where Cullen had gone off to. She shouldn’t eavesdrop, even after the fact, but…

  Eira looked to the bench, reaching out with her magic. If it didn’t snag on anything, she’d go. But if it did—

  You’re being unreasonable. Cullen’s voice resonated through the tether.

  The girl is a political liability at best and outright dangerous at worst. Yemir was talking about her.

  She’s neither of those things.

  She can find out about you, us, your past.

  Maybe we should stop trying to hide it?

  What you suggest goes against the empress’s wishes and the good of Windwalkers everywhere, Yemir snapped. Stop this insistence otherwise and do as I say. We will find you a suitable wife and you will marry on your return as the victor of the tournament. The city will be so enraptured with you that it will be the perfect time to make your bid for the senate. Your life has a plan.

  I don’t want your plan, Father.

  I’m only looking out for your best interests.

  What if I want to decide, just once, what my best interests are? So much pain lived in Cullen’s question. Pain Eira could share keenly.

  You are a child. You can’t be trusted to know what that is. Cut your ties with her and proceed as we planned—her brother will be your Waterrunner counterpart. Let me handle her. She’s more of a liability than you know.

  And if I don’t do as you ask? Cullen dared to ask.

  Don’t test me, son.

  The sensation of eyes staring at her drew Eira back to the present. She looked over her shoulder, back toward the court, to see Yemir and Patrice staring her down. She knew how she must’ve looked, focused intently on the bench. Eira swallowed her discomfort and continued on after Cullen, her head held high—even though it felt as though they were trying to cut her down with every step.

  Once inside, she didn’t have to look far to find Cullen. He sat, hunched, on a bench framed by two suits of armor. He didn’t even look up to confirm it was her as Eira sat next to him.

  “I know,” he said softly. Eira had never he
ard him sound so vulnerable. “I know, you will tell me to be grateful that I know who my parents are. That I didn’t have them keep a profound secret from me. That what I’m enduring isn’t that bad.”

  “I wasn’t going to say anything of the like,” Eira said, equally softly. “What did you tell me that day? I’m not the only one with family problems?”

  He gave a raspy chuckle. “I shouldn’t have dragged you into it. I fear I might have made things worse for you. My father is not a bad man…but he can be misguided in how he determines the path forward, especially when it comes to me.”

  “I can handle myself.”

  “So you’re proving.” Cullen finally looked at her. “Thank you, Eira. Having you here today…” He rested his hand on hers. His fingers curled around her palm. “I find your presence calming. As if, out of everyone, I’ve finally found the one person I can trust. The one person who might understand.”

  Eira stared at his hand holding hers. She had to fight the urge to take his fingers. “I want you to trust me,” she admitted to both herself and him in that moment. “But you can’t, if I’m not completely honest with you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I heard.” Eira slowly dragged her eyes from his hand, up his arm, to his face. “I heard the traces of your conversation with your father.” His eyes widened. “And before that I heard a whisper of you in the Windwalkers’ study.”

  “You…you were spying on me?” he breathed.

  “No, not at all!”

  “Did someone put you up to it?” His grip tightened around hers, popping her knuckles. “Was it to take me down? Or my father?”

  “The first time was an accident. Just now…well, I listened. But only for a little.” Cullen stood, as though she’d burned him. “Cullen, please, I was worried about you was all. Given how you and your father looked…”

  “What do you know?” He refused to look at her when he posed his question.

  “That you have a secret. That’s all. I have no idea what it is,” Eira said reassuringly.

  “It’s only a matter of time until you do,” he murmured. “My father was right.” Nothing could’ve prepared her for how deeply those words wounded. “With that gift—that curse of yours, no one is safe.” Cullen looked over his shoulder with a wary stare. In one expression he encompassed the voice of everyone who had teased, belittled, or hurt her over the years.