Chapter 61

9. Invisible Face Four men had met in a room in the dimly lit castle. Three of them had suntanned skin and well-built bodies, indicating that they drilled for battle day in, day out. The other was middle-aged, his hair just beginning to thin, and his attire was luxurious. He looked to the little assembly. “The princess is in the way. We have to do something to stop her coronation.” “But will things still work if something happens to her?” offered one of the other men. The elder man fell into thought. After a moment of indecision, he made up his mind. “It doesn’t matter. They’re only crowning a figurehead anyway. The times have changed.” His three constituents inhaled sharply at that. They were all determined to make a difference. The man continued heatedly. “From now on, stable domestic affairs and foreign diplomacy are going to drive this country, as well as military strength. If the royal family doesn’t have the power to adapt, then we have no choice but to take their place. You can think of this as a revolution.” Fierce determination oozed from him. The other three breathed in this ambition, won over by the words. “All right, which of these rings do you think is the magic one?” Tinasha questioned, sitting in a patch of shade on the training grounds during a break from her regular practice. A silver ring wrought in an antique style lay atop each of her palms. After gazing at them for a while, Oscar pointed. “That one.” “Why do you think that?” “Intuition,” he replied immediately. Tinasha dismissed the rings and crossed her arms. Her shapely brows knit. “You do have very good intuition, but I don’t think that’s what guides your selection. Did you actually sense the magic coming from one of them?” “If I had, I wasn’t consciously aware of it. All I felt was that something was different,” he said. “Hmm… I’d like you to be a little more attuned than that,” admitted Tinasha, turning her right palm up and casting a spell there instantaneously. She infused it with magic and made the array visible. A three-dimensional sigil formed of intertwined red threads floated in her hand. “You see it, don’t you?” “Yeah.” “Okay. I’m going to make it fade, little by little,” she said, starting to adjust the magic. Very slowly, the red threads faded away until they disappeared. But to those who could see magic, the spell was still visible right where it was. Oscar stared at it. Once it was fully invisible, Tinasha asked, “Can you see it?” “I can see some warping. It’s like that spot has water on it,” he answered. “Hmm.” She recited a short incantation, this time camouflaging it. The spell gradually faded away, cloaked to the point that an ordinary mage wouldn’t be able to see it. “What about now?” “It feels weird.” “You really do have good intuition…,” Tinasha commented, shaking her head somewhat exasperatedly as she made the spell vanish. Hugging her knees to her chest, she glanced up at the leaves of the big tree they were under. “Through repeated practice, someone like you might be able to see spells.” “Then how about you give me some of that practice?” “Hmm… Okay, just a little bit,” she agreed. The two stood and moved a distance away from each other, like they often did for sword practice. Tinasha gave a light swing of her practice sword. “Don’t move. I’ll create a spell that can be undone if you block its core with a normal sword. But it won’t come undone if you don’t touch the core, even if you hit the rest of the spell. Got it?” “Got it,” Oscar said. Weapon in hand, Tinasha spread her hands wide. Ten palm-size balls of light appeared before her chest. He narrowed his eyes at them. “Go.” With her soft but pointed order, the balls of light took to the air at varying speeds. They spread out, heading for Oscar. He awaited them, sword at the ready, and slashed at the first sphere to reach him. His blade pierced its center, and it winked out of sight. He then held his weapon horizontally and sliced at a sphere coming toward him from the right. Like the first, he punctured the core, but it pushed forward regardless and struck his shoulder. It tapped against him, then bounced off. “Focus on seeing them. Broaden your senses,” Tinasha instructed. “Okay,” Oscar replied as the sphere flew at him. Controlling his breathing, he raised his sword. He concentrated, keeping his nerves taut. With his eyes fixed on the light sphere, he saw a rippling on the inside of it. He cut the third one a little to the upper left. It dissipated. The fourth one slipped past his sword and hit his chest. I need to hone my concentration better. Oscar kept his senses sharp and his field of vision broad as he watched his target. The rippling inside the sphere grew a little clearer and more visible. He could tell that two white circles were joined together there. Holding his breath, Oscar slashed at that meeting point. Tinasha whipped up more magic spheres, restraining an admiring sigh. There were still globes Oscar failed to strike in the right place, but he was gradually getting more right than wrong. Eventually, Tinasha began mixing in invisible spheres, yet Oscar succeeded against a fair number of those, too. Unlike Tinasha’s prowess with a sword, Oscar’s magical vision was something inborn in him. It didn’t take the man long to adjust. Moreover, he possessed a naturally accurate intuition. His reactions were possibly even swifter than a typical mage’s. Tinasha stopped creating new spells and lifted up her hands. “Let’s stop here for now. If you jump into too much at once, there could be some backlash, and that wouldn’t help at all,” she called. “Sure. Thank you, I feel like I more or less figured it out. Did you undergo drills like these, too?” asked Oscar. “I’ve been able to see magic for as long as I can remember. It’s actually harder to suppress my sensitivity when I don’t need to use it.” Even then, Tinasha couldn’t dismiss her magical vision completely. It wasn’t impossible, but because she never knew what might be there, she always stayed aware to some degree. The world appeared considerably different through her eyes than it did to people without magic. If one pondered that, though, they would realize that everyone saw the world only from their perspective. There were differences in every view. Oscar glanced up at the clock set into the castle wall. “I’ve taken up a lot of your time. Sorry about that.” “Not at all. I’m the one who asked you for lessons. Let’s try some magic training for a while, too,” Tinasha suggested. “Yeah, that would really help.” Tinasha trotted over and happily nestled close as they set off. Oscar patted her head roughly, thinking her rather like a cat curling around his legs. For a time, things passed peacefully like this in Farsas Castle. One day, Doan and Sylvia were in the lounge surrounded by a number of open books on magic when Tinasha entered, and they looked up. She was carrying a dozen thin volumes, and an unfamiliar male mage followed after her. He had a pile of books in his arms, too, though his were all thick. He set these tomes down on the desk, and Tinasha smiled. “Thank you, Renart.” “I’m happy to assist anytime,” Renart replied with a bow. Then he lifted a hand in greeting to Doan. “It’s been a while.” “You look well,” remarked Doan. Evidently these two knew each other; Tinasha’s and Sylvia’s eyes widened in surprise. Noticing their curious gazes on him, Doan explained that he had met Renart while studying in Tuldarr. Renart introduced himself to Sylvia. Once everyone was acquainted, Tinasha began to explain what she had brought. “…So these books are interpretative texts. I came with this pair because it seemed like they might have some related information.” The Farsasian mages listened intently, while Renart frowned at the last two volumes. “Princess Tinasha, aren’t those reference texts not meant to be taken out of the library?” “I left the outer covers behind, so no one will know. We’ll make copies, return them, and all will be well,” she replied. “That should be fine, then,” Renart said. Sylvia eyed the calm, good-natured duo with concern. Then her eyes landed on the thin books Tinasha was holding. “Princess Tinasha, what are those?” “Oh, these are my old diaries,” she answered, setting them down on the table. Each of the ten-odd books had a year inscribed on it. “Oscar asked me to look up a word I recalled hearing somewhere before, but these were the only writings of mine that I could find. I can’t show these to anyone, and there’s a lot to go through, so it won’t be easy, but…” “What? These are your diaries?” a man piped up from behind as he reached out and picked up one of the things. Tinasha let out a screech and whirled around. “Oscar! Give that back!” She grabbed for it, but the king held it out of her reach and opened up the journal. He’d happened to be passing by and heard her voice, so he popped in to see if she wanted to do some practicing. Despite Tinasha’s efforts, she couldn’t overcome her height disparity with the far taller Oscar. The man scanned the contents and found a neatly written account of war progress, domestic affairs, and the magic spells Tinasha had been researching at the time. The script used in Tuldarr had a few quirks to it, but most of it was mutually comprehensible and readable. He flipped ahead and discovered that this diary seemed to detail the war with Tayiri. It was a matter-of-fact report containing nothing about Tinasha’s feelings on the matter. Finding that uninteresting, Oscar closed it. At the same time, Tinasha floated up into the air and snatched it. “I told you to give that back!” “Write something more interesting,” Oscar commanded. “I was busy!” she cried, landing back on the floor and flipping through the diary she had retrieved. Fortunately, there was nothing recorded in it that was too private for other eyes, yet she still felt unsettled. Oscar eyed the other journals on the desk. “When did you start keeping a diary?” “Since I was five, I think? It doubled as penmanship practice.” “I want to see those diaries,” Oscar stated. “Absolutely not!” Tinasha rebuked, as angry as a cat with its fur standing on end. Laughing, Oscar patted her head. “Do you keep one now?” “If I did, it would just be full of insults for you, wouldn’t it? Because you’re so mean to me all the time.” “Aren’t you a bold one…” “Ow! Ow!” Tinasha yelped, struggling as Oscar pinched her cheeks. The king of Farsas looked to be enjoying himself deeply, and Renart muttered to Doan, “Is Farsas always like this?” “Well… Mostly, yes,” Doan answered. Renart was quite taken aback at the sight of Tinasha acting her age, something she never did in Tuldarr, and he kept his irreverent appraisal of the situation to himself. Three days later, a letter arrived from Yarda, a country that bordered Farsas on the east. Oscar read it in the course of his duties and furrowed his brow. “We’ve gotten an annoying request from Yarda. Internal strife has broken out, and they want the princess to stay here.” “Princess Nephelli?” asked Lazar. Farsas had warred with Yarda ten years ago, but after Yarda asked for help rebuilding, Farsas had rendered aid. It was clear they wanted to keep up a good relationship with Farsas; Princess Nephelli, in particular, visited often. However, she had never stayed long. Oscar had to wonder how dire things had gotten if this had become necessary. He rested his chin in his hands. “Well, it would be strange to refuse.” “It certainly would. Your Majesty and Princess Nephelli are on friendly terms, after all,” Lazar replied. Oscar nodded absently, then asked, “But would it be okay with Tinasha here? I can never predict what she’ll do. I don’t want her getting into any scuffles with Yarda.” “…I believe that’s all dependent on you, Your Majesty,” Lazar stated wryly. After Tinasha and Delilah’s altercation, the windows in the lounge had cracked. Tinasha had paid for replacements, but this time, her opponent would be a royal. The situation could devolve beyond repair. However, Lazar and all the other attendants and advisers believed that it was Oscar’s fault whenever Tinasha destroyed something. Whether the young king was aware of his retinue’s concerns or not, he chuckled. “Just in case, I’ll warn Tinasha before she meets Nephelli, whenever that is. Lately she’s been holed up doing analysis, so it might not matter, but it’s not like they’d never run into each other.” “There’s also the matter of how exactly you break the news to her, Your Majesty. Please take great care…,” pleaded Lazar. “I’ll tell her while we’re practicing. If we’re outside, it shouldn’t result in any broken panes.” “That’s not what I meant! I feel sorry for Princess Tinasha!” Lazar cried. Then his face clouded over. “She doesn’t have much time left in Farsas.” It was so charming to see her clinging to the king like a kitten, but that wouldn’t be the case for much longer. Tinasha’s coronation was fast approaching, and it was clear upon close observation that she and Oscar were staying mindful of their respective positions. Although that was precisely what troubled Lazar. Oscar gave his friend a strained smile. “I was joking. She’ll handle it well, too. That’s the type of people we are,” he said with a grin, accepting his duty matter-of-factly. Once Lazar left the study, he let out another sigh. The sky was a beautiful, clear blue as far as the eye could see—perfect weather for a wedding. In the morning, Sylvia dropped by Tinasha’s room to return some books on magic, all happy smiles. “Today one of my fellow mages is getting married. The ceremony will take place in town, and in the evening, there will be a little reception in the castle courtyard.” “Oh, a wedding. How nice.” “Would you like to attend? Everyone would be thrilled.” “Me?” Tinasha asked, eyeing her scrying bowl with the books still in her hands. The spell configuration floating above the basin was as finely wrought and lovely as ever. She was a bit behind schedule but still making progress. A change of pace couldn’t hurt. “I suppose I’ll take you up on your kind offer. Is the mage a man or a woman?” “A man. His name is Temys,” answered Sylvia. “I see.” After Sylvia departed in high spirits, Tinasha teleported herself to Tuldarr to prepare. She quickly returned to Farsas and worked on her analysis for a little longer. Before she knew it, the time for the reception had come. While things began at dusk, it was still quite light outside. Tables and chairs were set out in the courtyard, the tables laden with celebratory food and drinks. Oscar had provided all of it for the groom, who was a court mage. Many soldiers and mages were among the guests, and once the happy couple appeared, the modest reception got underway. It started with Chief Mage Kumu greeting the guests. Tinasha made her appearance just as everyone was beginning to unwind and chat. Clad in the formal mage’s robe of Tuldarr, she offered her congratulations to the couple. Then she whispered to the bride, “Are you by any chance a spirit sorcerer?” “A former one, yes. It’s an honor to meet you, princess of Tuldarr,” the woman replied. Her happy smile was infectious, and Tinasha grinned back. She opened the box she was carrying. Inside lay a necklace made of a generous string of pearls. “This is actually a magic implement. One I think is perfect for you. Congratulations.” “Th…thank you so much!” the bride exclaimed, receiving the box from Tinasha’s hands. The groom next to her bowed gratefully. Well wishes complete, Tinasha made to retreat from them when someone got ahold of her from behind. Surprised, she turned her head back and saw a drunken Sylvia clinging to her. “Princess Tinasha, do something!” pleaded the intoxicated mage. “Do what?” “Hey, Sylvia, whoa.” Other people rushed to stop Sylvia from acting improperly, but Tinasha waved them off with a smile. With her friend still plastered to her back, Tinasha puzzled over what to do. “Hmm, yes. In that case…” She handed Sylvia off to Kav, then obtained permission from the bridal couple before going to stand before the assembled guests. Oscar, who was working away with his back to the open window, paused when he heard the faint strains of a song floating in from outside. He knew this voice well, but he had never heard her sing before. Accompanied only by a lyre, the melody she sang was not one from Farsas. Her clear and resonant voice was beautiful enough to enthrall all who heard it. Lazar looked up, recognizing the voice, too. “Oh, is that Princess Tinasha?” “Seems so. I guess she’s making an appearance at the wedding reception? She’s so talented,” Oscar remarked, grinning wryly as he listened to her pleasant, reverberant singing. His work was almost done. Perhaps he would drop by the reception as well. Deciding to do just that, he sped up his work pace. By the time Oscar made it to the celebration, the party was in full swing. After stopping the bride and groom from bowing to him numerous times, Oscar congratulated them. Accepting a drink, he left the pair and searched the courtyard. In one corner, facing away from him, was the woman who had been singing earlier. She was laughing out loud in amusement as she chatted with Sylvia. But as Oscar got closer, he noticed something was off. From behind, he got ahold of her wrist. She whirled around, grinning. “Oh? Oscar?” “You know this is alcoholic, right?” he asked. “What?” she said, sounding surprised. In the hand Oscar had caught, she was holding a glass of fine wine. He released his grip, and Tinasha brought the glass to her mouth, her head tilted thoughtfully. “But it’s sweet.” “It’s sweet and alcoholic,” Oscar stated. “Huh…” It was clear that Tinasha was already drunk. Oscar sat down on her right and kept an eye on her. Giggling all the while, Tinasha wondered what could be wrong as she drained her glass. She tried to refill it from the carafe on the table, but Oscar stopped her. “Don’t drink any more. Your magic will run amok.” “Yes, it will. That would be bad.” “Listen…,” Oscar muttered, holding the carafe itself out of reach. He poured her a glass of water instead. “Drink this.” “But it’s not sweet…,” Tinasha complained. “Put sugar in it,” he shot back indifferently, and she pouted. As Tinasha started to drink her water, Oscar reminded her, “Put on your sealing ornaments. You’re at a party.” She nodded obediently, set her glass down, and tried to summon the ornaments into her hand. But what appeared instead was a porcelain vase. Oscar let out a dry huff. “How is that a sealing ornament?” “Hold on…,” Tinasha said, setting the vase down on the table and trying again. The next thing to appear was a little cat figurine made of stone. Her eyes grew wide. “It’s a cat!” “Well, that’s obvious!” interjected Sylvia from the opposite side, collapsing into laughter over the table. It looked like she was as inebriated as Tinasha. Doan and Kav stood a fair distance away, watching the two women with fearful eyes but making no moves to get any closer, having apparently decided on a plan of noninvolvement. Tinasha peered at her hands and moaned, “This is so strange… There’s no sealing ornament.” “Do more, Princess Tinasha!” called Sylvia. “Okay,” Tinasha sang, and then a metal helmet and a portion of a suit of armor from who knew where materialized in her hands. Oscar was at his wits’ end. He noticed that her magic must have been affecting the nearby glasses and water pitcher, because they were beginning to float. Tinasha was giving the helmet in her arms a curious look when Oscar plucked it from her and barked, “Don’t use any more magic!” “Am I doing that…?” she questioned. “Yes, it’s you,” the young king assured her, placing a sheathed Akashia across her lap. Right away, the levitating glasses landed back on the table. Oscar took Tinasha’s empty glass and filled it with more water. That was when Lazar came running up from the covered walkway. “Your Majesty, we’ve received an answer from Yarda. The princess will be arriving the day after tomorrow.” “That was fast,” Oscar replied. For the reply to come so quickly after he sent a response surely meant that Yarda was in dire straits. In any case, welcoming a visiting royal necessitated a fair amount of preparation. Oscar gave Lazar several instructions, remaining calm even as he felt a certain person’s eyes on him. Once Lazar rushed off, Tinasha asked plaintively, “Oscar, are you getting married?” Everyone around them froze. Doan casually stood. Aware of his inner circle’s concern, Oscar took a sip from his glass. “Who can say? Why would that be the case?” “Mrr…,” Tinasha grumbled, pouting and sounding like a small child. Drunk as she was, she could tell from the way Oscar had spoken to Lazar that Nephelli was coming for a long stay. Oscar pinched her cheek. “What’s with that face? If you’re unhappy about something, just tell me.” It was all up to Tinasha whether Oscar could get married in the first place. If she didn’t want him marrying someone else, she need only declare herself incapable of breaking the curse. Then she would become the only woman who could bear his child. As Oscar envisioned that future, Tinasha jerked her head to the side, sulking. “I don’t care. I came to be of use to you. I’m not unhappy about anything, so you should choose whoever you like.” Despite her claim, Tinasha tried to grab another carafe of wine, but Oscar intercepted. “Fine. I think I’ll take a queen who won’t destroy a suit of armor.” “Wha—?” Everyone in the vicinity tensed up when they heard the king’s retort. Oscar watched Tinasha out of the corner of his eye, making sure she didn’t drop the sword resting on her lap. Tinasha glared at him, her eyes glittering like fire. To him, they appeared as two gems. He was about to lose himself entirely in their light when Tinasha flung Akashia away. He reached out an arm to stop it from happening, which she promptly clutched. “Ugh! I hate you!” “Got it, got it. I despise mages who are annoying drunks, too. You should go sleep it off.” “I’m not gonna! Stupid!” Tinasha cried, kicking up a fuss even as she clung to Oscar’s arm. However, her eyes kept fluttering shut, suggesting she was almost totally exhausted. Finally, she collapsed onto Oscar’s lap. Oscar sipped at his drink, letting Tinasha rest peacefully, but when the magic lights in the courtyard twinkled to life, he took that as his cue to lift her up and carry her.