A Trial of Sorcerers: Book One by Kova, Elise (universal ebook reader .txt) 📕

Eira stared in a stunned silence as she watched the elfin disappear into shadows as thick as the mystery that surrounded her.

* * *

The next morning, Eira awoke in Adela’s bed. She stared out the same small window that she imagined Adela did. She visualized the woman, a woman who looked very much like Eira herself, hunched over the desk Eira had been pouring over for weeks now.

The Adela of Eira’s mind was cruel, cunning, equal measures wicked and…stunning. In Eira’s creations, Adela was like the magic detailed in her journals. There was something forbidden, yet alluring, about her and her knowledge.

“There’s no way.” Eira shook her head and stared up at the ceiling. The Adela of Eira’s mind couldn’t be her birth mother. They couldn’t share blood.

That woman was bold. She was someone to be seen and feared. Eira stared at her hands. In contrast to Adela, she was no one.

Eira spent the day in the room. She let her stomach eat itself as she scavenged the journals for something she hadn’t seen before. She searched for some kind of piece of information that would slot neatly into the hole that now existed in the picture of herself.

Unfortunately, the words, This is who you really are, Eira, weren’t written anywhere.

She emerged at dinnertime, when her stomach was growling so loudly that Eira could no longer focus. Wasting away would do her no good. There were still trials to face.

If she faced them.

Her world was tilted and uneven. No step felt certain, or fully hers. Eira was pulled in competing, oscillating directions of “all right” and “very much not.”

Fortunately, Alyss was nowhere to be found in the dining hall. She didn’t want to re-hash how terribly things with Marcus had gone, not even with her best friend. She just wasn’t ready. Eira ate quickly, alone, and promptly left before she could run into anyone else. As she wandered back up the tower, she initially started for Adela’s secret room, but quickly backtracked to her own bedroom.

There was one person she’d be open to seeing. Fortunately for her, the feeling was mutual. A small envelope was waiting on her pillow.

Eira just hoped that it wasn’t leftover from the night prior.

Washed and dressed in fresh clothes, Eira made her way through the tower and palace. The warm glow of her and Ferro’s study was the most inviting thing she’d seen in days. Eira was all too eager to slip inside.

“You came tonight.” He sounded, dare she even think it, eager? “I was worried you didn’t get my message when you didn’t show up last night.”

“I’m sorry.” Eira sighed softly as she took her seat. “I…yesterday was…”

“It was a lot.” Ferro stood from his chair and stepped around the low table between them to hover before her. Eira stared up into his bright violet eyes, swallowing hard. He knelt before her, taking both her hands in his. Ferro turned them over, looking at their fronts and backs, as if searching for remnants of her injuries. “I was worried about you,” he murmured.

“Why?” she whispered.

“I invited you to come and visit with me and you didn’t show. Perhaps I’m being too forward…but I feared the only thing that would keep you from me was a grave injury.”

Eira’s mouth quirked into a smile. Her cheeks felt warm but she did nothing to hide them. “I think that’s generally a fair assumption. But no grave injuries. I’m all right.” Physically, at least.

“Good.” He didn’t make any motion away from her. Eira shifted her thumb slightly, running it over the smooth curve of his knuckle. His hands were the hands of a diplomat—soft and without callus. If he noticed the movement, he didn’t remark on it. Something bold made her do it again.

This time, he gently stroked the back of her hand in reply, sending shivers up her spine.

“Why did you worry about me?” she dared to ask.

“You took some brutal falls. Anyone would’ve been worried.” He shook his head, staring off at a dark corner. “No…I was worried because I didn’t want to see you hurt. Especially when I watched and did nothing to help you.”

“You couldn’t. If you’d intervened it would’ve disqualified me.”

“I know, which is why I kept my magic to myself. But it…” He chuckled softly. “It physically pained me not to.”

Her chest tightened. She didn’t know if she could believe what she was hearing, if she should believe it. Had it been anyone else, she would allow herself to see him as…pursuing her romantically?

“I was all right.” The words were thick and hard to say.

“Yes, because you’re strong.” He looked back at her with a tender smile.

“I don’t feel very strong lately,” Eira admitted, both to herself and him.

“What has made you not feel strong?”

“I shouldn’t say,” she whispered.

“You can tell me anything,” he assured her. “Tell me and I will make it better. Anything for you.”

Eira bit her lower lip. Their hands were still lightly entwined, resting on her knees. The firelight tangled in his hair, streaking it with golden strands.

She wanted to believe him with all her might.

“I…I found out that my birth parents weren’t who I thought they were.”

“What?” he breathed in shock.

“No matter how many times I say them, those words still don’t feel real.” Eira hung her head, closing her eyes. She couldn’t bear the sight of him. Neither could she deny how good speaking to someone else who had no judgment, no stakes or opinions of those involved, felt. “I’ve had so many competing thoughts and emotions. I’m sad and angry. Yet I’m also oddly relieved? As if something I’ve never understood—but never realized I understood—finally makes sense.”

“Do you know who your birth mother was?” he asked delicately.

“No… I was abandoned on my parents’ doorstep.”

“Do they have any guesses by whom?”

Eira flinched.

Ferro’s fingers tightened around hers. “You don’t have to say if you don’t want to.”

“You’ll hate me if I do.” Eira thought back to her conversation with Deneya. Maybe Deneya