An abandoned boy, a grieving prince, and a reclusive sorcerer find themselves caught in a web of peril and mystery...
Domi, a young thief abandoned on the street at birth, just wants to save his dying foster mother. But first, he must survive the m...
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Peritia found it strange that she needed to supervise her Princeps during his work. True, Daedalus Adurere remained but a child despite his vast power and rigorous training. His fifteenth nameday still lingered a week away. And of course, the royal worldholder had not sat upon the Throne of Solitude long yet, only a month. Some inexperience ought to be expected.
But still, Princeps Daedalus was Aquarius's highest-ranked worldholder, with the next falling far below him in authority and strength even if Valens Ornnithias remained far superior in skill. As the royal Trellis expert, Peritia expected to serve her new Princeps by coaching him through new skills and advising him about some of the subtler nuances of Trellis work.
She did not expect to find herself sitting with her Princeps's foster mother in the chilly garden to ensure the young royal's prometus did not extinguish while he worked.
She studied the boy as he sat, still and serene, beneath the bare peach trees, which seemed to be his preferred place to maintain the Trellis. His late mother favored the sauna, but Daedalus ventured outdoors as often as possible.
Peritia would encourage such in any other boy but found the behavior troubling in one who needed to stay isolated from distractions and threats. What if one of the bees drifting around seeking nectar from snow flowers stung him? What if the chill Germinating wind he summoned sickened him? Such issues were less likely inside the palace and sauna, but Peritia's authority over him only extended so far.
Daedalus was rigorously trained in concentration and self-mastery, but still, he was only fourteen. He would not complete his royal education for a few more years. He ought to be more cautious, like his mother, and limit his time in the capricious outdoor elements.
Callide had been more disciplined, but the new Princeps favored his wanderer father in this regard. The boy also looked very like Ausus, with wavy black hair that brushed his laurel and dark-olive skin instead of his late mother's warm bronze. He possessed Callide's more delicate jawline, though, and her deep-brown eyes.
Peritia swallowed hard as memories of her late Princeps welled within her. She missed her royal charge dearly, the woman who came to the palace fourteen years ago as a naive but fiery schoolgirl and grew over the years into a formidable ruler. Callide had been freer with her thoughts than Daedalus, who held them close.
She should not find his differences so surprising. After all, unlike Callide, he had been reared to become the future Princeps, and besides, he was simply a different person than his mother. Still, it made the ache of loss all the more tender.
She still could not believe Callide was dead. At the time, the Princeps's suicide seemed to come with no warning, but as Peritia looked back now, she thought she saw the signs. The difficulty sleeping, which left Callide with dark circles and little energy. The distance that grew between them in Callide's last days, as the Princeps refused more and more to confide her thoughts to Peritia. The retreat into ever longer bouts of Solitude.
