Gray faltered. He carefully stood, straightening his training blacks with sweaty fingers.

The king stared through him and rose from behind his desk.

His silvery hair was braided sharply away from his angular face. He moved with his usual predatory grace.

The office fell utterly quiet. The elderly mage with the curse bombs paused, then stepped back, bowing deeply. She did not rise from her bow. She might have been a stooped statue, her intricate styling and braiding in her white hair from a master sculptor.

'Better,' said the king, his voice its usual ice, overlaying the strained fury he'd been clearly holding back all day. 'But still not good enough.'

Gray felt Mali bow behind him. Gray hesitated a fraction of a second, and then bowed, too.

Low.

Lower.

The king slowly stepped around his desk, his footsteps silent, but his icy energy moving forward like a creeping mist.

'You're leaving tomorrow,' said the king. 'The situation you're entering into is high pressure. There is a high chance you will be stressed, frightened, panicked. The lack of control you just showed me would get you dead. Do you understand what that would cost me?'

Gray opened his mouth, still bowed. Closed it. Sweat dripped from his temple onto the luxurious carpet.

He'd been hoping, waiting, for the king's ire to ease all day. Waiting for a chance of good humour, for Gray to quickly ask him for permission to accept the Alchemy Guild's offer.

The moment had never come, and the night was getting later and later.

If Gray could just control his magic enough, and show it by making those damn three orbs hum in harmony, maybe the king's mood would lighten …

He drew in a silent, shuddering breath, as slow as the advancing footsteps of the king.

'I understand, sir,' said Gray. 'I remember what's at stake, sir.'

'You need to show control.'

'He hasn't had a ryece, sire,' said Mali softly. 'It's not so simple-'

'I know.'

Even the guards by the door flinched.

The temperature of the room dropped by ten degrees.

Behind Gray, Mali shifted.

'Boy, you don't leave this room,' said the king, 'until you can land your control precisely. Without faltering. I gave Cyril my word I would not allow you to leave until you showed at least some basic control of your power. That I would not risk the team I send with you. You lose control of your power,' said the king, his ice-cold fingers under Gray's chin, prompting him to straighten out of his bow, making goosebumps break out on Gray's skin, 'you explode yourself, or my mages, my soldiers, my civilians, I will bring you back to life myself, piece by piece, to drag you into the grand stadium. To unravel you again. Piece by piece. As the fay do.'

The king tilted his head, forcing Gray to make eye contact.

'Understood, Gray?' said the king.

Gray's mouth was ash. His heart was hammering itself into pieces. He didn't know how true the king's threat was, but there was no denying the real murderous fury lying in wait, just underneath the surface. The king was a river of fire, underneath a thin layer of ice, ready to crack.

'Understood, sir. I will never be without my dragon scale vest, sir.'

'Call me Baldwin,' said the king coldly. 'Your accent on sir irritates me today.'

'Yes,' said Gray, schooling his reaction, 'Baldwin.'

'If you're not where I need you by the end of the night,' said Baldwin, 'you do not leave tomorrow.'

Gray opened his mouth to protest. Carefully closed it, letting silence fill the space between him and Baldwin. Gray knew the king had no other options, he knew Baldwin needed Gray, and he knew that time was of the essence for the death curse, the vampiric sorcerer, and the jar.

He was supposed to leave tomorrow, before lunch, with Jessica and her carefully curated team. A mage was going to fahren them up to Krydon. Everything was arranged.

Surely, this was a hollow threat.

But, Baldwin had no tells, none that Gray knew or could see, and Baldwin was unpredictable enough that maybe he meant it. Gray didn't want to risk being kept in Dierne for another day, training, while he should be in Krydon and putting an end to the monster that killed Alistair and Rowan.

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He hadn't even had a moment to speak to Jessica yet, about changing the strategy for getting through the tombs by using the vampiric sorcerer.

Baldwin turned back to his desk, gesturing for the elderly mage to step forward again with the curse bombs.

Then, without looking up, 'Guard, message to Killian Slate to bring Sorena here.'

—

Gray's breath was out of control.

There was a burning effort within him, like when a muscle was held tense for too long.

And Mali's voice, cutting through Gray's intensely hard focus, edged in alarm, 'cool it.'

The third orb hummed.

Gray dug his fingernails into his palms. Hard. Harder.

He kept the third orb humming. Held the harmony.

'Cool it,' Mali said, her voice growing more and more distant. 'You'll end up forcing a ryece-'

Her voice faded. Gray had this.

He had it.

The three orbs were humming in a heavenly harmony. The harmony was a hundred delicate melodies woven together in perfection, it was rose blossoms swaying in the breeze, it was cool winds through trees, it was stars moving across an indigo sky, infinity-

'Cool it.'

The words were muttered into his ear, and they were sharp enough that it broke Gray's focus entirely.

Gray felt the internal walls slam down around his magic.

Mali glared at him, her silver piercings glinting in the lamplight.

'Again,' said Baldwin from across the room, dismissing the elderly mage with a sharp wave of his hand. He snapped the lid closed on the curse bombs. 'And try to do it without giving Mali a heart attack this time.'

Gray curled his fingers into his training blacks, trembling from fatigue, his breath ragged. He darted a glance at Baldwin. His bearing was as inscrutable as ever.

Mali leant forward, her mouth a hard line. 'Slow. Breathe.'

Achingly slowly, Gray closed his eyes and reached for the walls around his magic.

Two orbs? Done.

Three …

The muscles in Gray's shoulders tightened.

'Breathe,' came Mali's voice, warningly.

The pool of power within Gray, deep, swirling, wild, bottomless, made Gray's pulse surge. Fear rose in his throat. Easing the walls around it was like taking away a platform from underneath a swimmer, leaving them treading a fathomlessly deep and dark ocean.

In.

Out.

There was a shift within Gray. An easing of his walls.

The third orb hummed, it was in harmony.

A flash of elation swept through Gray, battling swiftly rising panic as his magic soared through him, filled the air around him, made the orbs hum louder, tightened the harmony, layered it-

The doors opened somewhere to Gray's left, and the prickling sensation of Sorena's magic swept over Gray.

Gray stiffened.

He wrenched his eyes open, his focus stuttered, just for a second. Not a full failure. Just a twitch.

'Keep it going,' Mali said.

Her voice had gone from sharp and worried, to steady bordering on encouraging.

Gray honed his focus back onto the orbs, locking his gaze onto them, and refusing to turn at the muted footsteps - feather-light - of Sorena walking across the office. And the pad, pad, pad of Killian.

Killian shouldn't be out of bed, yet, should he?

'Breathe,' Mali said. There was a wide grin in her words. There was pride in her words, there was happiness bordering on delirious laughter. 'Keep it going.'

Sweat trickled down Gray's temple. The three orbs hummed louder, the melodies weaving intricately, delicately, dancing in the air, sweet and controlled and -

Sorena spoke softly to Baldwin, she moved, and Gray could see her, the platinum hair, the bright hazel eyes, the beautiful profile, and Gray's gaze wandered over to her, like it had a damn mind of its own, like death wasn't on the line if he didn't make these orbs hum, and there was a sensation in his chest interfering with the control of his magic, making focus impossible.

Sorena stepped closer.

She settled into a chair much too close.

'Wow,' she said delicately. 'I remember this test from when I was eleven.'

The orbs stopped humming.

They stopped before Gray could tear his gaze away from Sorena.

Layered robes. Glinting jewels. Eyeing Gray like he was a mildly interesting street show. She lounged back in the chair - the kind of chair Gray would've called a throne back before he saw the sort of ostentatious furniture they kept in the palace and guild for daily use - with a relaxed posture that Gray had only seen from her when she'd drunk too much cherry wine.

She wouldn't be drunk? Would she?

Killian cleared his throat.

Hurriedly, Gray dropped his glare to his hands.

There was a silent beat.

'Are you here to obey me, daughter,' said Baldwin, 'or are you here to distract my novice before his mission?'

Heat flooded Gray's face. He swiftly stood.

Baldwin's eyes were on Sorena. Killian leant against the wall near the fireplace, a scabbed hand clapped over his pale face. His shoulders were slumped underneath his grey uniform, and his posture suggested he was favouring an injury on his right leg or foot.

Mali nudged Gray in the ribs, face bright, smiling widely, mouthing good.

Gray nodded discreetly back. Damn Sorena aside, he'd just done it. Gray suppressed the urge to grin.

Sorena raised her eyebrows. 'It's my fault he's distracted?' How she got her voice colder than Baldwin's, how she made the blood freeze in Gray's veins, he'd never know. 'He's here learning control, isn't he? Perhaps he should learn control of where he puts his eyes.'

'I take that as a no to obeying me,' said Baldwin.

'I'm here to tell you I'll do as you ask. I'll talk to the - prince. I'll persuade him. If you dissolve the marriage agreement between us.'

Baldwin was immovable.

Sorena stepped forward, putting weight onto every word, as though simplifying something for a child. 'I'll visit the prince of Foix, I'll convince him to command his head of the armoury to send the Silence Veils by dawn tomorrow morning. Delivered to your office. If you do as I ask.'

Silence Veils, Gray knew, were a kind of complicated curse bomb weapon. Though that was all he knew. They'd been mentioned once or twice in his history class back at school.

'Daughter, you manage to pull that off, I'll let you choose whoever you want to marry, whenever you want.'

'What about no marriage?' said Sorena.

'Those Silence Veils are here by dawn, I'll allow you whatever you want.'

'He's in the guest wing here?' she said, coldly. 'Which room?'

Baldwin told her.

Sorena's lips twitched in what might've been a small smile, bowed, and left the room, her robes whipping.

If Gray wasn't imagining things, something softened in Baldwin's face as he watched his daughter leave.

Maybe, now was the time, if ever, to ask about the alchemy guild. Except he'd just been caught gaping at the man's daughter. Gaping, not because he liked her, but only because she was ridiculously beautiful.

Gray resisted the urge to clap a hand over his face, just as Killian had done.

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