“That’s fine,” Father says.
Mother frowns. “Don’t you think she should at least make an appearance? After all, he’s comingthroughBelwar to show his support. Half the city will be there.”
Father looks up from his reports at last and shrugs. “If Maharaja Naupure did not summon her, I’ll leave this one up to Adraa.”
Mother grabs a piece of naan and rips it in half, her crooked nose flaring. When Father makes sense and advocates for freedom of choice, Mother really can’t argue. Victory soars throughme.
“I think Adraa should go!” Prisha exclaims, head buried in her spell book. But I can spot the smirk nestled in her tone.The little…
“We’ll leave this one up to Adraa,” Father reiterates, and a thick silence slides around us, indicating the matter has been concluded. I look at my breakfast, able to breathe again. I won’t have to face him today. And tonight I’ll craft better excuses. Though I’ve been running through all the good ones lately.
Father shuffles some more paperwork. “Did you also know he stopped an avalanche on his way home?”
This fact, unfortunately, I do know. “Yeah, asmallavalanche. Whoop-de-do.” I spin my spoon into the upma, pushing the vegetables around, appetite officially lost. Prisha grins at her spell book. There is nothing amusing about the logistics of witchcraft, especially in fifteenth year. She just loves this, loves when I can be proved wrong, when I can be outdone in magic. And Jatin is always there to prove that.
“Stopping an avalanche of any size is impressive, Adraa. It saved half a village,” Mother interjects.
“I’m glad people are safe.” I relent. It’s just…did it have to be Mr. Arrogant, Jatin Naupure, who did it?
“That boy is very proficient at snow spells—exceptionally so, in fact. I heard during his royal ceremony Dloc threw a blizzard at him and he took it down in seconds.”
White magic is his forte, Dad. Is he supposed to be bad at them?That’s like being impressed that, as a red forte, I can start fires. I almost remind my parents of the stable inferno I stopped last year, or even, dear Gods, what I do when I sneak out at night, but I hold my tongue. Because that needs to remain secret. And who am I to talk, really? I have never saved so many people. And I have yet to battle through my own royal ceremony and prove myself capable in all nine types of magic.
The next moment, Willona bursts into the dining room holding a bowl of mangoes and sets it on the table. Our oldest and dearest servant runs her hands over her apron and I just know she is contemplating something. Why does she look so…
Oh no! Wide-eyed, I pivot fully in her direction and wave my hands, but it’s too late, the words are already spewing out of her. “What did his letter say, Lady Belwar? I know everyone in the kitchen has been dying to hear.”
I cover my face. That is—I meanwas—supposed to be our secret. Do I need to start bribing the palace staff? But even that might not work. I cannot trust anyone when it comes to Jatin. Our engagement is common knowledge, too public in the palace to try to rein in the rumors.
Mother sits up straighter. She is such a sucker for romance. Except, she has no clue what lies between Jatin and me is not romance. It’s fierce competition. And it can only end in disaster.
“He sent you something again?”
“Um, no,” I lie.
“Adraa?”
Prisha smiles from across the table, daring me to lie again. How can someone who looks so young and innocent in all other features have such a mischievous mouth?
The note burns hot in my pocket. I had just gotten it this morning and had not felt like opening it. I know about the avalanche. He is going to rub it in my face.
I sigh. “What? Should I read it aloud?”
“That would be lovely.”
Willona brims with excitement and then claps. “I’ll get the kitchen staff.”
“No, Willona, don’t!” The door swishes into place behind her retreating form as I’m completely ignored. I tear the letter out from its useless hiding spot. The sun sinks behind a cloud once again, casting the room into dusky light. How fitting. I peel apart the seal and scan the contents to make sure nothing is too disturbing to say in front of everyone. The letter is short, but still gag-worthy, as always. “Really? You guys are going to let this happen…again?”
“Let them have their fun,” Father says while signing something important.
“Yeah, Adraa, let us have our fun.” Prisha looks me square in the eye.
“Fun?” This was my love life, or lack thereof. It should not be…fun, especially for our entire household, staff included.
It takes only four minutes for a quarter of the witches who work in the palace to tumble into the dining hall. They all appear giddy to the point of combustion. I might feel the same if I believed one word of Jatin’s nonsense.
“Okay, everyone ready? I’m only reading this once. Zara? I’m looking at you.” My maid rolls her eyes and then nods for me to proceed.