Non-Heir (The Black Mage 0.5)(21)

Ha. Not even Eve knew the darkest parts of his past. But Darren held his tongue. Despite the man’s uncalled for assumptions, he respected his words. Marius had a humor and a gravity the other men didn’t. Darren could immediately see why the man had performed so well in the Candidacy. A mage had to be able to read others if they wanted to go far, and Marius had an uncanny ability for seeing the truth after two hours observing the prince.

“Your father asked me to give you additional lessons for the time being,” the mage added. “We can meet each dawn in the indoor training court, and then you can join up with the others for the rest of your drills. I am happy you live up to Mage Dargon’s praise, I wouldn’t like to waste hours with one of the others…” The man’s eyebrow rose, his green eyes twinkling in the fading sun as they finished crossing the threshold to the palace doors. “Perhaps Eve, but those last three couldn’t even cast.” Marius gave a confiding snort. “I don’t know why their parents waste so much coin on children with no magic.”

Darren hid a grin. “Half the court is made up of fools.”

The man winked. “Only half?”

The prince decided right then and there; he liked the man.





6





It was his least favorite part of being a prince. A formal ball. This time it was being held in honor of the visiting Emperor Liang and his daughter, Princess Shinako of the Borea Isles.

It wasn’t that Darren didn’t like the princess. She wasn’t pretentious like the rest of his father’s court. She also wasn’t his intended. And the emperor was certainly more tolerable than his father.

But a ball meant rules, and since King Lucius was in talks with the emperor to have their two heirs wed, that left Darren to every ruthless family in court. Mothers thrusted their hapless daughters into his presence. There was only so much mindless conversation the boy could take.

If he danced with one more fool who insisted on choking him with rose-scented oils and shoving herself into his arms for a dance….

Darren hated dancing. He hated the string of compliments and the way the girls all looked alike, a parade of endless faces, powdered and pressed, just waiting to catch his eye.

He suspected the most irritating one was Priscilla. Somehow she too had discovered magic just weeks before, and now that she was a part of his training once again, she had marked him as hers.

In some ways, they were alike. Priscilla could fight and she carried her pride like a knife. The girl didn’t fall for the courtiers’ lies; instead, she reigned. But she still irked him with her calculated assault.

Darren didn’t want to play those courtly games. He wanted something… different than the walls closing in.

So he avoided her at all costs. He was lurking near a tapestry when Eve broke free from the crowd to find him.

“Stop hiding.”

The prince shot his friend a look. “I’m not hiding. There is just no one worth my time.”

A smile curved the side of her mouth. “I think there is.”

“If you say Priscilla…” he warned.

Eve snickered. “Never, but you haven’t looked hard enough. Or did you fail to notice Sir Theron’s daughter in the crowd. She looks awfully pretty tonight.”

Darren had noticed her, but he had no interest in a convent girl. At least with Priscilla, he’d have a wife he could respect. Perhaps also despise, but respect.

The girl elbowed him. “Ella is like us, Darren. She’s friends with Kora”—the girl Eve favored, one of the more intelligent young women in court—“and I’ve heard her telling anyone who will listen she wants to be a knight like her father. People say she trains with her father’s sword when no one is around.”

Darren smiled despite himself.

Eve pushed on, noticing her friend’s interest. “She might not be as good as us, but she’s good, Darren. And she speaks her mind, not like the others.” The girl made a face.

The prince supposed there were worse things than meeting this Ella. He cast a glance around the ballroom and found her, dancing with one of the brutes. He believed it was Jake, though it was hard to be sure, the brothers looked so alike. The girl had a forced smile in place as he stepped on her feet.

He’d noticed Ella on more than one occasion. She was one of the darker-skinned girls, with curling ebony locks and sharp eyes. She hadn’t looked fragile like the other useless flowers in court, that was the first thing he remembered. Of course, now he knew that was because she secretly trained for the School.

“Would you like me to—”

Darren smirked. “I think I can make my own introductions.”

The girl rolled her eyes. “Just don’t present your usual arrogant self. She might be inclined to punch you in the face.”

“Like you?” He hadn’t forgotten the first time he had picked a fight with Eve. The memory made him grin.

“Exactly.”

Darren wasted no time making his way through the crowd. He didn’t offer any apologies for the incompetence of those who failed to notice a prince in time.

Then he tapped Jake on the shoulder. The boy jerked his head to the side and then paused, mid-dance.

Ella shot the prince a startled glance.

“Would you like a partner who can actually dance?” Darren gave the girl a rare smile. He knew very well its effect.