“Don’t lie, my lady, I can smell the tension from here. The castle walls trembled. The maids made bets. I lost five gold.”
Alaric laughed.
I glared at him and continued.
“Anyway—focus. We have a problem. A big one. The southern rebellion? It’s no longer just farm-burners and wild mages. It’s coordinated. It’s funded. Someone is moving pieces behind the board. And guess what, my darling lightning prodigy? They’re looking for you.”
“What.” I blinked.
“Yes. You. Not Alaric. Not the king. Not the royal heirs. You. Word of your awakening has spread, and now there are whispers. Ancient bloodlines. Forgotten prophecies. Blah blah blah. You’re apparently the spark that was foretold in some old dusty tome. I didn’t believe it at first, but then the thunder started whenever you cried, and well—
