Apprentice (The Black Mage, #2)(53)

"Ian."

The curly haired fourth-year whirled around, hazel-green eyes meeting mine in frustration. He had been standing next to the docks, staring out at the ships with his hands shoved in his pockets.

"It isn't fair - you going away with him," the fourth-year declared bitterly. "I know why you haven't made a decision, Ry. I'd be a fool not to see it." His eyes burned. "And now you'll be spending every day with Darren while he convinces you to choose him instead."

"Ian." My chest tightened and the words that were so close died on my lips.

"He's a prince," the fourth-year persisted, "and he's a better apprentice than me. How am I supposed to compete with that? You fell for him first and, I know, I knew that when I started courting you… but I kept telling myself that it didn't matter, that I would make you forget. But you never did… And, yes, I know you don't want me to say these things now…" He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "But, Ry, if you go away with him I know you won't be mine when you return."

I couldn't speak; my lips were like ice and my tongue was suddenly too heavy to lift.

Ian took a step closer, bridging the gap of space between us. He took my hand in his and gently tilted my chin upward so that I was forced to meet his sober gaze.

He's the right one. My whole body trembled.

"Choose me, Ryiah," he said softly. "I know it's not fair-"

You know there's only one name you can say.

"-But I am asking you to anyway."

The other has never – will never - be yours.

I looked into Ian's hesitant green eyes and saw only dancing flame and dark smoldering garnet.

I choked. "I choose you." Sharp, stabbing pains erupted inside my chest and I made myself smile. You love Ian, I screamed silently, your heart is not breaking – you do not love the prince.

The fourth-year froze and his grip on me tightened. "Did-" He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Ryiah, did you just-"

You are only mourning the loss of desire.

"I said I choose you, you simpleton." Then, before I could lose my nerve, I pulled him to me and kissed him swiftly on the mouth. Ian responded by gathering me even closer and then, laughing, picked me up – shunning my protests - and spun me around the shore. Several fishermen hooted loudly and when Ian finally set me down, grinning, my cheeks were flaming red from the catcalls of our audience nearby.

"I should kill you for that," I told him weakly. But I was smiling.

Ian grinned. "You can do whatever you like, Ryiah, but it won't stop me from doing it again." He lunged for me.

Shrieking and laughing, I darted away only to have him catch up to me a moment later in front of the nearby stalls.

"I love you, Ryiah of Demsh'aa," he said solemnly. And then he kissed me again.

Neither of us noticed the tear slip down my face.





CHAPTER ELEVEN





"Ian," I chided, "you have to let me finish packing! Byron will have a fit if I am late."

The fourth-year chuckled. "Maybe the grouch will let someone else go in your place." He bent down to kiss me again.

"Ian!" I shoved him away playfully. "You know this is important."

Ian gave a dramatic sigh and released me to my duties. "Fine. But if Darren makes one attempt…"

"He won't," I said quickly. My heart stopped and I prayed that Ian wouldn't notice the way my hands had suddenly stilled. Darren had been absent the remainder of last evening. I hadn't been able to pull him aside and tell him my decision.

I finished loading the last of my clean tunics into my pack and hauled the leather straps onto my shoulder. Ian wasn't allowed in the girl's barracks – even with the door open and Ella nearby– but the rest of our faction was eating and this was the only opportunity we would get to say goodbye.

"Alright you two," Ella interrupted. "The morning bell is going to toll in exactly fifteen minutes. Ry, if you don't start heading down to the docks now you are going to be late and then you'll never be offered a position with the Port Langli regiment after you get your mage's robes." She grinned wickedly. "And you know how that would disappoint Priscilla."

I started to snicker only to consider it in afterthought. Ella was right. The last thing I wanted was to give the commander a bad impression. Even if I had no desire to serve in Langli I did not want to burn any bridges. Especially since Byron would undoubtedly be ranking his least favorite apprentice last in the ascension ceremony three years from now. I gave Ian one last kiss and then sprinted out the door to meet the rest of the crew at the docks.

When I arrived, a little flush from my run, I saw that everyone was loading the last of the luggage onto the ship. Darren stood near the back, helping a large man with black braids carry a particularly large crate onto the vessel. He looked up when I arrived, but as soon as his eyes met mine he looked away immediately – but not before I caught a flash of something cold. My heart stopped and my throat became sand, coarse and dry and in desperate need of something I didn't have. He knows.

"Are you the other one?" A loud voice broke my reverie. I turned to see a woman in her early thirties watching me expectantly. Her skin was well weathered and her brown hair fell to her ears, cut in a similar fashion to most men in the regiments. Her eyes were a vivid green, much brighter than Ian's, and she had toned arms I envied. The best yet I had seen on a female mage.