Page 38 of The Starlight Savior

Saige shifted where she stood. “I don’t know what you’re asking of me, my lord.”

The king relaxed against the seat of his chair. Legs sprawled out under the long wooden table, his smooth hands placed on his chest. “I suppose I am curious about how much energy it is taking you to maintain the measly amount of control you can muster.”

“A great deal, my lord.”

“And do you want to change that?”

“I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

The king clucked his tongue. Saige stood straight, her chin lifted high, partially because of the magic swimming in the air, but she also didn’t want to reveal her shaking hands and quivering chin.

“Do you know what will be expected of you?”

She didn’t. All she knew was that whatever she possessed could be a helpful asset to solving whatever curse had infiltrated Opela long ago.

“Everything,” is all the king said as his dark eyes bore into hers.

A chill traveled through Saige’s body. The magic keeping her standing prevented her from shivering under the king’s tone. She knew nothing of these lands or the politics intertwined with them. But she could see why he had become king. His simplest words were spoken with such truth, such power, they were difficult to argue with. If he told her to hold his blade to her own neck, would she do it?

Maybe.

With her silence, the king kept speaking. “You have been raised to be small. To be quiet and not draw too much attention to yourself. To hate the very people your father came from, the very blood that flows through your veins. And yet now you are here and I am not asking, but demanding you let go of everything you’ve become so accustomed to and rewire it.

“You will not be a mortal Brevillian, but a member of the Etrane armed forces. I am insisting that you transform from being the daughter Oscar Nerestel trained you to be, and become the witch you have always been destined to become.

“So I will ask you again, do you know what will be expected of you?”

Thousands of answers formed in her head, but Saige spoke what she hoped was the most convincing. “Yes, I will do anything.”

The king smiled, his head cocking to the side as he studied her. “Even if it means carving out the very pieces of yourself you were born with? Starting over from scratch, no matter how painful it may be?”

Saige didn’t hesitate as she said yes, taking in the sight of the king’s smile. He was satisfied with her answers, her compliance.

“Bend the knee to your king, as you no longer serve King Brennus of Brevil, who would send you to the gallows and burn your heart.”

There was no command in his voice as he waited for her continuous compliance. Little did he know, it had nothing to do with being part of his court. She was one of the last Nerestels. If she could finish her father’s work, she would. Even if it meant bending a knee to the storm-wielder, King Vospella of Etrane.

Her bones hit the stone floor, head bowing. She could not see the king, but she could feel his pride and arrogance sparking in the air between them. She couldn’t imagine what he had planned for her. She hoped that it would all be worth it.

Chapter 18

Before the sun could creep over the horizon, Saige was dressed and ready in her quarters. Every few moments, she peeked into the hallway, waiting to be retrieved. The only presence was a pair of warlocks standing outside her doors.

Having something tangible to look forward to filled her body with energy. Now she knew exactly what waited before her. She would train her magic, learn about the mist, and join the fight to save Opela. It felt illicit to be this eager.

After what felt like hours, a curt knock sounded from her door. She opened it quickly to reveal Conor waiting for her.

“You can’t wear that.”

Saige looked down at her dress. It was simple, the dark blue colors that represented her house. The sleeves were mid length, tight around her arms, the corset loosely tied so she could move easily around. “And why do you get a say in what I wear?”

“That isn’t something you should wear to training.” Conor pointed down to his own loose, dark trousers and tunic. “Come on.” He strode past Saige and into her room.

“Wait!” she huffed, trailing after him. “You can’t just do—”

“Didn’t they put any other clothes in here besides dresses?” Conor was already sifting through Saige’s wardrobe, pushing back dresses and sleeping gowns.

Stepping behind him, she hovered her hand at his arm. “You shouldn’t be in here. It’s intru—”