Idalia’s twirling wand falters. She grabs it tight. “So that’s really him.”
Nevander resists the urge to stand between her and Seren. He won’t be the only one watching Seren’s every move anymore. He’ll have to get used to sharing.
“How did Haelwen die?” Nevander asks. “Who was with her?”
“The ritekeepers are still examining her,” Idalia says. “Nobody was…”
Her gaze darts past him, and Nevander turns to find Seren shakily sitting up. In a flash, Nevander kneels at his side.
“Are you hurt?” Nevander asks, searching Seren’s pale face.
Seren licks his dry lips and points. “That’s just a statue, right? Not a real bear turned to crystal?”
He’s avoiding the question, which is wise. Nevander shouldn’t have asked it. Seren clearly notices Idalia, and revealing weakness in front of strangers is dangerous.
“It’s just a statue,” Nevander says, trying to sound calm. “What happened?”
Seren grabs Nevander’s arm as if for balance. Then he looks around, golden eyes lingering on the Idalia, and removes his hand. “My magic is stronger here.”
Fucking courtiers—they should know to shield better. Regardless of how shocking the situation is. Regardless of not knowing about Seren’s empathy.
Spirits. Best to hide that until Seren learns to control it, lest others use it to control him.
Nobody should know, except Nevander. Seren was overwhelmed enough in Elsewhere. Here in Elladar, new to the raw magic of his home realm?
“I’m sorry,” Nevander says. “I should have anticipated that.”
Seren actually laughs, sharp and disbelieving. “It sounds like you have enough on your plate.” He gathers himself visibly. Somehow, he looks more determined with his true face. “Who are you?”
Idalia bows deeply. “I am Sir Idalia of the royal guard.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Seren.” He shifts awkwardly on the couch. “You were telling Nevander what happened. I would like to hear that, too.”
Idalia’s attention darts to Nevander. It’s natural that she would look to him for direction, but Nevander must emphasize Seren’s authority.
“As His Highness wishes,” Nevander says sternly.
Seren and Idalia both seem flustered.
“Last night was normal after you left,” Idalia says. She resumes spinning her wand. “Queen Haelwen retired to her chambers. She rose early this morning and went to the throne room, though she had no audiences.”
“Was that usual?” Seren asks, surprisingly calm. His grip is tight on the edge of the couch.
“Yes, at least recently,” Nevander answers. “Were you saying nobody was with her?”
“She was alone,” Idalia confirms. “No witnesses but the palace walls. Mustardseed and Jasper were in the antechamber, and they rushed in to—to find her, after we all felt it.” Idalia breaks away, her green complexion turning gray. “Primrose arrived soon after. Apparently, they barely got the queen out before the throne room closed.”
Nevander’s hand is on Seren’s shoulder. He hadn’t noticed until now, when Seren stiffens. Releasing him, Nevander asks, “Was there any sign of intrusion?”
“I don’t believe so.” Idalia’s wand wobbles. “I barely spoke to Mustardseed. Everything has happened so fast.”
“You’ve done well,” Nevander says.
Seren jumps to his feet. Distress breaks through his voice. “Wait, you don’t knowhowshe died?”
Idalia bows. “I don’t, Your Highness. The ritekeepers are examining her.”
Seren blinks rapidly. Nevander nearly grabs his arm again, before Seren composes himself. “I need a moment,” he says tightly, and whirls away to examine the crystal bear statue.