Sain Clare Academy (gxg, 18+)

Chapter Thirty-four (Second Plot Arc)

Months passed, days and weeks mushing together in a hazy blur. A house mage's duties varied month to month but usually focused on defense and preservation of peace within the territory. I was acutely aware of how high a position I had been granted-- a mage that worked directly under the duke-- because it meant I was in constant contact with said royalty.

Because members of a ducal house were often closely related to the king, Grace was technically in line for the throne (though the odds were close to zero for her inheritance of it). She was set to inherit the ducal house in a few month's time, and because of it, she was visiting the main house more frequently.

Every time she came, I kept busy. Better to not see her at all than to inflame the flashes of vivid silver that haunted my dreams every night.

"Good morning, High Mage," a servant mumbled as she passed me, skittering off after my acknowledgment.

My first weeks at the ducal palace were rocky, to say the least. Everyone was aware of my lineage and my supposed assassination attempt, so no one felt the need to address me with respect. Around the second week, which aligned with the time Grace was here for a summit among other noble houses, greetings had suddenly become the norm. I was unsure if it was because the servants and other people of the house were scared to act disrespectful in front of the heir apparent, or if I had finally garnered respect after all.

The second one seemed unlikely.

The duties of a High Mage were downplayed and hidden from the public eye, but still, their reputations soared; this was usually due to the dangerous nature of their work.

I had not been on a single dangerous mission since my employment. The Duke owned a large bit of land, so I knew it wasn't because he had no missions to assign to me, but probably because he didn't trust me. He knew as much as I how much I hated his blood.

It was an insult to keep me working on all the menial magical tasks in the palace, ones that could be handled by lesser house mages. My anger flared whenever I thought about it, so I tried to shove my reality into the back of my mind at all costs.

Instead, I retreated back into the recess of my quarters, pulling a wooden box from under my bed with shaking hands and breathing deeply as I felt the texture along the lid.

I had found it mere days into my service, before I knew where all the rooms in the palace were laid out. Accidentally, I had ended up stumbling into the room I now knew to be Grace's. Back when I was being treated like a servant, I had been searching for reports when I found a dust-ridden box in the corner of the closet and opened it out of curiosity. There were letters inside.

Taking a deep breath again, I cracked open the lid.

I knew the words written with faded ink like a prayer-- I found myself reading the letters every time I felt insecure or lonely. Which was often.

Dear Olivia,

The first started with a name I hadn't been expecting when I first saw it, a tight, regal hand curving the letters together. I traced them with my fingertips as I continued to read.

Perhaps it's foolish of me to write a letter I know I'll never send, but the urge has compelled me to sleeplessness.

As I kissed you today I couldn't help but wonder why I felt you so arresting, why I would make such a miscalculation. Maybe it's the way you threw your match with Martin, and how no one seemed to notice but me. Maybe it's the way you look at my hair, not with reverence, fear, nor affection, but genuine sorrow.

I can only hopelessly speculate what it is my family did to you to invoke such a reaction. Your hidden strength, the promise of mystery and power, that is why I went out of my way to find you where I knew we would be alone.

Still, I had not planned on kissing you.

I can't help but wonder why I'm truly writing this. Is it an apology?

Dear Olivia,

I cannot explain the fire that scathed my lungs when I witnessed that girl pressing your damaged body against a wall. Before I realized what I had done my veins were racing with boiling silver, my birthright filling my words and posture.

The flash in your eyes told me you recognized it.

Where did you recognize the royal family's divine powers from, Olivia?

Dear Olivia,

I feel just a bit silly about the jealousy I feel when I see Miss Niel making you laugh.

Before I could stop myself, I had rushed out of class to see you at the infirmary, though she stopped me from entering. I had to catch myself before I demanded the door open with my authority as a Duke's daughter.

It disgusted me, how I almost fell to temptation like that; I promised myself to never abuse my powers so.

I hope you are recovering well. I fear you will plague my thoughts until you do.

Dear Olivia,

Pathetic of me to write this, but out of a lack of confidants I find myself placing the words here (it is far too meddlesome to bother Hamilton or Amada with-- they run themselves ragged enough for me as it is):

Anna's behavior has been odd recently. Before, I simply thought her unable to think anything if it was not for the benefit of her brother. Now, though, I find her staring reverently at one of the magic professors. (I wonder if you know her. She's the only other one who looks at my hair like you do. Though, recently, I've found your eyes on other places than my hair. Or maybe that's my mind seeing things that aren't really there.)

I find it hard to focus in class with you injured somewhere I don't know, and with Anna making constant eyes at Professor Eclaire. I almost pity the professor-- it seems Annakin has been making his move as well. No doubt they've figured out her role in our inheritance, the Selector.

I admit even I had joined her class out of curiosity, her eyes on my hair initially as compelling as I had found yours (though I can say with surety which I find more captivating now).

I am almost certain the professor has been tasked with the generational 'honor' of evaluating potential candidates for the ducal seat. She may even be a direct benefactor to the inheritance.

Still, I shy away from unorthodox methods such as flattery. Annakin's incessant flirting makes me want to puke.

I will do things the right way.

I hope you get better soon, little rabbit. I will do everything I can to protect you. 

A/N:

Apologies for the delay!

We get a chance to see into Grace's head for a bit with these letters.