For a moment the sounds and colors around us faded until all I could see was my father's somber expression from across the gardens.

  "Alya?" I felt Sirius's fingers lightly brush my sleeve through my stupor.

  I shifted away instinctively, only shortly turning to him with apologetic eyes.

  "It would seem we don't have much time... shall we?" He offered his arm.

  My eyes widened. Had he lost his mind?

  "A smitten man trying to charm his daughter, wouldn't that be far less dangerous?"

  It took me a second to ponder his words before I reluctantly slipped my hand through his arm.

  "I... thank you." I took the time it took to cross the distance from my father to carefully arrange myself into a neutral, if not slightly annoyed expression.

  "That won't be difficult to portray," Sirius whispered before we got close enough to Father that I could see the family crest stitched on his breast pocket.

  Father had not moved. He stood, dark among the greens and purples of the gardens, studying every aspect of our interaction.

  "Lord Velmire," Sirius nodded respectfully. His tone and body expression were so natural one would have never guessed it was his enemy he was greeting. "I must apologize. I fear I have stolen Lady Velmire from her company."

  I removed my hand from Sirius's arm while looking at my father, then moved to stand next to him.

  "Lord Lioren was educating me about the symmetry of the design in these gardens." It came out just bored enough.

  "Lord Lioren," greeted my father. His head didn't move. "The Aurelian Gardens can be... revealing. I trust the stroll proved worthwhile."

  Sirius smile didn't waver. "It was. Rare flowers can be found in the most unlikely places."

  A dull hum filled my ears as heat climbed my neck.

  Just like I had done in the past when facing unwanted attention, I slipped my hand through Father's arm.For once it would be used to reassure him and not me.

  "My daughter's time has been on demand lately. I assume you did not overextend it."

  "I can understand your concern, Lord Velmire. The pleasure was entirely mine. Lady Velmire was generous with her time, and I would not presume beyond it."

  Father turned his attention to me. I could see the calculations behind his eyes, but his eyebrows had softened. "Generosity must be carefully rationed."

  "Lord Velmire, I will not take any more of your time," a small bow, then his golden eyes turned to me. "Lady Velmire, I trust we shall not require frost to make another acquaintance." His eyes lingered on me for a second before he walked away.

  I didn't trust myself to breathe for a moment.

  Father turned to me. The shadow cast by his brows dimmed his eyes, leaving them half-veiled and entirely unreadable.

  "I assume your evening stroll was pleasant."

  "As you can see," I replied holding his gaze, "it did not conclude as pleasantly as I had hoped."

  I had barely time to say goodbye to the other ladies under my father's watchful gaze.

  He didn't waste time once we entered the carriage.

  "It's not the first time that Lioren has shown interest toward you."

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  I brushed imaginary dust from my skirt. "He's not the first man to show his interest," I paused, raising my eyes to his. "Although he was surprisingly bold this afternoon."

  "Boldness can be dangerous. Or..." his eyes focused on the leather of the opposite seat. I knew him well enough to know. He was pondering if he could use the situation to his advantage.

  The Velmire men, I had come to understand, had the habit of either underestimating their opponents or overestimating themselves.

  And that was something I could use to my advantage.

  "I suspect some men are only bold when you're not around. Surely after what you've told him today he shall not bother me anymore."

  Father did not address the situation any further.

  The next morning, as I was skimming through the pages of the newspaper, I noticed something bizarre.

  Pages 13, 14, 19, 20, 27 and 28 were missing.

  With scrunched eyebrows, I checked twice to make sure I wasn't imagining it.

  No pages appeared torn.

  Was my family curating what I'm allowed to know?

  Had they always done it and I had only noticed now?

  Or was this a way to test me?

  Questions kept circling on my mind even as I carefully stabilized the esthetic flow on Magister Crowold's practice doll.

  The circle on the doll's chest glowed green, which indicated her flow had been restored.

  With a quick glance to make sure he remained absorbed in his papers, I indulged my curiosity.

  I focused on the surge of energy beneath my hands, and pushed further.

  The reaction was immediate. A small red flame appeared on the surface. My hands hovered just above it, close enough to feel the heat. I pushed some more, until the flames started glowing orange and amber. Only then did they cover the entire surface of the doll, starting to climb higher.

  "Magister!" I removed my hands and searched for the pliers.

  With slight panic, I dumped the burning doll into the water.

  "Oh my," Crowold appeared next to me. "That hadn't happened in a while..." He caressed his beard. "No worries, it can happen at this stage! Nothing to worry about. Why don't you try again?" He asked encouragingly.

  In the next fifteen minutes, I excitedly showed the green circle to the older magister, and the class finished earlier with promises of starting the next subject on the following lesson.

  My curiosity got me standing in Father's library looking for new books to devour.

  I had almost gone through all of the first batch, and my understanding on runes was more solid than ever before.

  The cloud obscuring aetheric magic—if only the theory—was slowly dissipating.

  Boredom was what pushed me to read through the first third of Valdosta's book for the second time.

  I stopped and re read one part.

  Foundations of Matter Manipulation in Transitional Periods

  Third revised edition.

  Early kinetic applications relied on particle agitation to induce combustion. The method proved effective yet unstable, often leading to collateral ignition. Modern Belarian doctrine favors constructed conduits over raw thermal escalation.

  Unstable, the book called it.

  I remembered how easily the flame had risen. So that's what it was.

  I spent most of that night transcribing all the parts of the book I found interesting.

  With my training with Valdosta cancelled for the time being, it was not difficult to dismiss Mely the next morning to get some more needed sleep.

  I smiled in triumph into my pillow. When was the last time I had gotten to sleep to my heart's content?

  Memories of fuzzy socks, bouncing curls and egg soup danced behind my eyelids before sleep claimed me once more.

  A more demanding knock stole me from my dreams.

  "Come in," I grunted.

  "My lady." Enora.

  I sat on my bed and fixed the woman with barely concealed irritation.

  "Lord Velmire has requested that you join him for lunch this noon."

  Again? I sighed. Then the image of me setting the dinner room on fire if the Merwoods were at the table had me flashing a smirk.

  "Very well," I dismissed her.

  Surprisingly, Father was by himself at the family dinner room when I entered.

  I took a seat to his left at the six person table. "Father."

  "I'll be concise, Alya, as we do not have much time." Good morning to you, too.

  "The Merwoods have expressed interest in a union between our Houses. Your grandfather is not opposed."

  A pause. "I believe you can do better."

  I believe I can be free of you both.

  I did not voice that opinion, just looked at him expectantly while a maid placed both our plates in front of us. Father waited until she left as quietly as she had arrived.

  "Eryx Orapher is the third son of House Orapher. He recently became of age and his family is looking for a suitable match."

  From the coals to the pyre.

  Father's idea of doing better seemed to imply trading an unwanted union for a lifetime of penitence.

  The idea was absurd to the point of insult. I wanted to laugh. Father seemed to interpret my tight smile as a sign of happiness for he continued.

  "On New Year's Eve, we will attend a winter soirée organized by President Aurelis. All members of the Orapher family will be present. Conduct yourself wisely, and you will be rewarded with a position... higher than we once thought possible."

  My jaw ticked.

  "Higher... indeed. I thought they would only accept pure blooded mages in their family."

  A shadow passed across his face before his fingers aligned the cutlery with unnecessary precision.

  "You're not like other mixed bloods, Alya. You carry the Arcane within. And you're a Velmire. We have been allies for generations," he sipped some wine, "it wouldn't be the first time our houses unite through marriage."

  Great. So, not only is he younger than me, we might be related.

  I took three big gulps from my glass, almost draining the content entirely.Father's eyes narrowed slightly but he didn't comment on it.

  "Very well, father. I'll do my utmost best."To flee before I end up in a colder cage.

  We continued our meal without another word. No matter how many bites I forced down my throat, the soft veal seemed never-ending.

  By the time I started the second half of my plate—and once I noticed my father's thinning patience—I took great pleasure in cutting the bites even smaller.

  I dabbed the corners of my lips with delicate precision. "Father," sip of water. Father tightened his cufflinks with a sharp motion. "Some ladies mentioned a new artist who is highly regarded at present among the noblest of my peers," I lowered my eyes just long enough to seem abashed. "Although I have been provided with the highest education, I find myself lacking knowledge of him, since he has only recently become sought after. Do you think it would be possible for me to go to the Lumerian library to study before the soirée? I would die of shame if I were to misstep in front of Lady Orapher and the other ladies for such trivial matters."

  Father's gaze lingered. For a terrible moment, it felt as if he had seen straight through my mask. "And which artist would that be?"

  I suppressed a sigh. "His name is Caelestis Valore. I heard he graduated from the Royal Academy of Art in Virelia recently." Father's eyebrows rested back in their place as he nodded.

  "I'll have Rodrick escort you tomorrow morning."

  Praise the ancient! Magister Crowold would say. I had never been so grateful for the ladies of Lumeria's incessant chatting.

  That night, after I had transcribed some passages from Magister Crowold's book, I carefully wrote a list of things I intended to do before New Year's Eve.

  1)Put Cilia to the test.

  2)Discover why the newspaper pages were missing.

  3)Study more about particle agitation to generate fire.

  The tip of the fountain pen hovered over the paper for a second. Then—

  4)Test how much Father suspects me.