Master Selhey ignored her gaping mouth and continued. "I've vehemently argued that you have the right to keep your glamour for unpleasant reasons that you know all too well. However, you're a female elf alone here and have a right to any protection necessary."
Imani didn't know what to say to that statement. But she felt a surge of affection for this stranger.
His expression softened. "But far away from the Draswood—from home—this place is safe for you. So, you're welcome to appear unglamoured here when we're together."
It flustered Imani again; she didn't know what to say. But she didn't move to restore her illusion.
Her grandmother had been controlling—insistent that the Draswood was the only place she could appear without it. The compulsion was more manageable for other elves to resist, especially if they didn't sense a potential mate nearby. Intensely loyal, most elves felt the instinct to protect. But after so many years, she'd forgotten that feeling.
He gave her a kind smile. "All the Aowyns have the same eyes."
"How did you know my family?" She blurted out, the words escaping before she could stop them.
"Mostly by reputation, but we met a few times when they came to Stralas. So many, including myself, regarded your father as the best wandmaker in centuries." He held up his wand. "He made this one."
Clutching her own—one he'd made, too—she felt unbearably sad. Aralana never talked about their family. They didn't exist after the children came to live with her. She had very few memories of them. Just happy fragments, like dreams she couldn't remember clearly.
"Truthfully, I don't know much about him or my magic. I'm far behind the other witches," she said, her voice curt, feeling a sting from her ignorance.
"Perhaps." He studied her for another beat.
The accuracy of his assessment of her was startling. Despite not growing up around elves, she seemed to like them in more ways than outward appearance. All she could do was nod.
"Elves have a different path to take when becoming a Master—indeed, many choose not to anymore. But, unfortunately, it means we have only a handful of elf witches in the Order. What other abilities did your parents have?" he pressed.
"I'm not sure. Definitely illusion." She also remembered her mother working with potions. "Probably alchemy magic as I have as well."
Master Selhey seemed lost in thought. "Elves are often given spiritual magic. Other breeds are not. Did they also have divination like you? That mark is one of the rarest in this realm, giving the caster dangerous abilities many desire but few possess. Many don't understand it, even masters witches." He turned to the other witch with a pointed look.
"I think my father had it."
"Hmm, strange I don't remember him telling me about that. Your parents died in a Fabric event near the border of the Plains and Riverlands, didn't they?"
Her throat felt thick with emotion; all she could do was nod.
"That was a particularly horrific one. Strong enough that Niflheim could've called the treaty void if they had known about it," he muttered with an edge to his voice. "The area there still hasn't fully recovered. It's a miracle you survived."
Imani had to agree. It was a miracle. The destruction had been catastrophic in that small splice of area. Dozens of casualties and hundreds of homes were destroyed. Yet, the passing of her parents had gone largely unnoticed in the aftermath—as had the fates of their three children. Master Selhey must have looked deep into her background.
The thought wasn't comforting.
"Three of you then? Your parents must have been tethers?"
"They were. Both my parents and grandparents."
"I suspected. Three elvish children born to one family, especially two females, is unheard of now unless the pair is heartmated. I imagine you must be close to your brother and sister and miss them."
"Yes, we're close." Imani had never been apart from her siblings before—and elves were not meant to be solitary creatures.
He turned to the other master. "Life has not been easy for her in the Naiad territory. Elves are different from the others in this kingdom in almost every way—our looks, magic, and emotional needs. All the more reason she should be able to keep the illusion."
"She not even close to the most powerful witch here. I don't see the point."
"A Leimoniad's magic is quite different from a Norn elf, Master."
Turning around, she faced the nymph witch head-on again. "I want to learn here. I want to be taken seriously for my magic—not for being an unmated female elf with a strange birthmark. People see this," she motioned up and down her body, "and they forget everything else, ask me who I'm feeding from—"
"—Who are you feeding from?" His voice sounded rough as he interrupted, and his eyes looked at her with that familiar longing she'd seen before. It made her skin crawl to see her magic at work, despite coming from someone so handsome. It made her want to show him what it's like to get a piece of furniture thrown at him by her.
But again, Meira would never say or do anything that rude, and he didn't deserve it. So, she gritted her teeth, but before she could respond, Master Selhey interjected, "That is none of your business, Master."
He had the decency to look affronted, at least, and then relented. "I'll tell the other master witches and the First Witch that you can keep the spell. We'll be the only ones who will sense it anyways," he whispered.
"Thank you." Imani meant it.
"For what it's worth, I've seen other females of your kind without the glamour and felt their magic. However, I'm now remembering how it would be distracting," he sighed. He looked uncomfortable and threaded his hand through his hair again, leaving it messy and tousled.
Much to her chagrin, it occurred to her that Imani found this male nymph painfully attractive. Hunger bit at her a little, but she clenched her fists. That was a problem for another day. Or week.
He gave her a final suspicious look. "Come, we'll take you to the other witches."
They started making their way out, but he paused mid-step, forehead wrinkled in concentration. "I can't shake this feeling there's something you're still hiding. It would be a mistake to be dishonest with the Crown or Order. As a witch with only six brands, you're far from the most powerful. We'll be watching you. That much, I can guarantee."
- - -
Both master witches murmured to each other in low voices as they led Imani into the hallway. Her ears flicked back and forth as she listened closely to their conversation.
"This is the last favor I do for you until you can answer me about the divination spell," the nymph said.
"I will give you the same answer I gave your mother—that spell is notoriously difficult to cast. The future is constantly changing as witches are born and die. So, it's almost impossible to discern the truth until the moment it happens."
"Other masters have managed it before."
"Then they were lying to appease their monarch."
Dozens of eyes watched as she entered the hall with the master witches. Some narrowed in surprise, others staring in confusion. Esa's brows shot so high they practically touched her hairline.
Puzzled, Imani met their stares, daring them all to look her in the eye. She had nothing to hide—she had never even met most of these people—yet hostility wafted through the air.
Four master witches stood in gold robes and black attire at the front of the room. The young master approached, and the others bowed to him.
"Your Highness," each of them murmured in low tones.
The shock made her jaw drop.
"I spoke with Master Selhey and Lady Aowyn. It's my opinion, as a master witch with this Order and the Heir Apparent, that we should let her retain the glamour. It's innocuous; we haven't had a Norn witch study here in fifty years, but I promise it will prove helpful in eliminating distractions for everyone."
One master witch seemed to be debating voicing his disagreement.
The prince's gaze darkened along with her own. It was, quite frankly, astounding how ignorant people were here about her kind. She expected it from common breeds in other territories but not educated witches in Stralas.
"Furthermore, I don't think Ellisar would be pleased if she were mistreated in any way. Which means my mother wouldn't be pleased either," the Heir added.
Imani almost scoffed. She didn't know the High Sentinel of the Norn; Ellisar wouldn't spare her even a glance. Thousands of other female elves like her and Meira lived in the Draswood.
But she appreciated the lie.
All the witches turned to look at the one on end. His marking was purple—an archmage witch. Imani knew he must be the First Witch, the only one with that brand.
"Yes. We agree that displeasing Ellisar and your mother would be most unfortunate." He bowed his head. "Please inform her of your successes this past week. We'd hate for the Queen to think we are not entirely supportive of the new laws."
The prince arched a brow. "Of course. The Queen looks forward to a stronger partnership between the Order and the Crown."
The First witch nodded, then murmured, "Magic to magic."
"Truth to truth," the prince replied. Then without another look at her, he strode from the room.
Practically shaking from learning the young master witch was the Heir Apparent, she turned on her heel and marched to the back of the group to stand next to Esa. Everyone leveled her with blatant stares, but she kept her expression neutral.
Esa glared. "What exactly were you doing with the prince this morning?"
Was she jealous? Imani brushed her off. "Nothing. He had some questions for me about my magical training."
The pixie gave her a skeptical look.
Luckily, there wasn't a chance for any more questions. The First witch waved his hand, and sconces lining the walls of the room brightened, somehow silencing everyone at the same time.
"Witches, welcome. I am First Witch Savus. I'll get straight to the point—you're here because you possess the potential to wield incredible magic. A power that can only be earned and bestowed by the Fabric itself."
Firelight washed over his strong jaw and stunning golden skin. The First Witch, Savus, was a Satyr whose magic seeped into the air around him. Even from a distance, it moved in a formidable caress.
His pale eyes scanned the room. "The Ascension Assessment are an honored tradition as old as the kingdom itself and we are bound to its ancient rules and structure. However, we recognize most of you have not volunteered. The world is changing, though, and we must change, too, to ensure our control over magic. But we do not view our role as controlling. Instead, we view it as protecting and partnership, enforcing the law by ensuring balance. Master witches serve the Crown and the people of our kingdom first. Therefore, we have always respected our power and protected those who can't wield it. "
At this point, more witches strode into the room, all wearing traditional gold and black cloaks. Again, the same blue brand flashed on the tops of their hands, identifying them as master witches.
"Here, at the Order," Savus continued, "some will die during the Ascension Assessments. Only a select few of you will survive and gain a place among us as master witches. The rest of you will be given honorable deaths, though. To die in the pursuit of magic is one we should all hope for." His gaze landed on Esa. "Bow Today," he declared.
"Rise Tomorrow." The echoing words rose from the witches like a haunting melody.
A faint heat signature hit Imani as Esa's anger rose—not everyone agreed with First Witch Savus.
"If you survive," Savus continued, "you will receive magic that only most can dream of, and we do not take that gift lightly. It's a lethal responsibility, and we demand you achieve specialized expertise in your branded abilities. You will be challenged to properly draw power from the Fabric that no other wielders can, and we'll start today. Your instructors will break you into groups now."
"This is a sanctioned extermination and enslavement. The Crown and the Order will either kill us or force us to work for them," Esa muttered, cracking her knuckles. "And no one here seems to give one shit about it."