Xander

“You seem distracted,” Vedran, my pink-eyed attendant, says as he finishes fastening the line of buttons down the back of my tunic.

I stare out the window at the cloud-studded Dun’s Crossing sky. The tourney flags are all gone or hanging at odd angles, three days of celebrations melting the somewhat elegant presentation I’ve only ever seen through this window. “I suppose I’m surprised we are leaving this quickly.”

“I thought you said King Kieran and your father had agreed.” He smooths down the fabric, and my skin prickles with the familiar wave of his magic.

Mages are rare in Tansy Beach—across the whole world, really. Vedran is the...