“I thought the powers of the High Lord were typically passed down through the men in the family-is that not true?” I asked Graziana and Noemi, my curiosity getting the better of me. “You two seem so sure that only Noemi or Isotta are contenders, but what about Graziana or Leonardo?”
“Becoming High Lady isn’t my destiny, that much I know,” Graziana replied with a sigh, the corners of her blush-colored lips turning downward.
“The power may favor males,” Noemi said, her sapphire eyes flicking to Leonardo, “but I’ve seen every possibility, and in each one, it’s either Isotta or me who becomes High Lady. In some visions, you stood by her side. In others, you even tried to kill her-but only in one were you successful. You died, but valiantly.”
A wave of nausea twisted in my stomach at the mention of Leonardo’s death. Without thinking, I reached over and took his hand, gripping it tightly. The very thought of him being taken from me felt like a piece of myself vanishing.
“The future is never fixed,” Graziana added with a casual shrug, dabbing at her lips with the corner of a lace napkin. “One small decision can shift everything.”
Noemi chimed in, though her words didn’t ease my worry. “Sometimes, I feel drawn to certain outcomes, like they’re more likely than others.”
Leonardo noticed the way I withdrew from the conversation and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. Graziana caught our silent exchange and offered a gentle smile, a wistful look flickering in her eyes. Shortly after, we wrapped up breakfast.
Brigida then placed a ward over us, using water magic that shimmered in vibrant threads above our heads, weaving together in a swirling dome of sea-colored strands.
“No one will overhear us,” Graziana murmured as my mouth dropped open, a question ready to slip from my lips.
Leonardo and I walked a few paces behind the girls, allowing a sliver of privacy between us. Our hands remained entwined, neither of us willing to let go.
“You seem especially bothered by the idea of me killing Isotta,” Leonardo remarked, tilting his head. The sight of his dark hair shifting sent a flutter through me. I wanted to push aside this unease, but as Leonardo traced small circles on the back of my hand, I couldn’t stay silent.
“It’s not that I trust Isotta, especially not around you,” I admitted, clearing my throat as I struggled to rephrase my words. Finally, I gave in and told Leonardo about the conversation I’d overheard between Isotta and his mother.
As I finished, his jaw tightened, his expression hardening. The air around us grew cold, and I shivered, pressing closer to him as my breath fogged in the winter air. With a sharp exhale, the temperature warmed once again.
“Sorry, still working on that,” he muttered, managing a sheepish smile that did little to hide the anger simmering in his eyes.
“You’re letting your emotions take control,” I reminded him, thinking back to my own lessons with Emiliano. Emotion-fueled magic was powerful, but dangerously unpredictable.
“Easier said than done,” he replied with a faint smirk, his voice softening. “You stir far too many… consuming emotions in me, kitten. You’ll be my undoing, and I’d welcome it.”
“If I’d known telling you about Isotta would leave you so morose, I’d have kept it to myself,” I quipped with a roll of my eyes, ignoring the seductive undertone in his voice.
Leonardo’s words were crafted with the precision of a finely honed blade, at times sharp and cutting, at others soft as a feathered touch.
“I made a choice once that went against everything. I chose wrong, and I have been blessed with a second chance.” His voice strained as he continued, “I’ll never take that bond for granted again.”
I stepped closer, resting my hand on his chest as he looked down at me. “I don’t deserve your comfort, kitten, especially knowing that some could disregard such a sacred bond.”
“I trust you, Leonardo,” I said softly, my heart fluttering as a radiant smile spread across his face, his elongated canines just barely visible. There was something mischievous yet warm in his expression, a look that suited his striking features.
“This is where your training begins,” Noemi announced, her voice echoing through the empty corridor. She flashed a smile, gesturing toward a smooth stone wall. Graziana raised a brow at her sister’s theatrics.
“Just let me have my fun,” Noemi pouted, pressing her hand against the wall.
I half-expected something simple, like our last sneaking venture, but Noemi had hinted that the castle held many hidden passageways. What might’ve seemed amusing on another day felt different now, with everything hanging in the balance. There was something tragic about it, how someone so young moved through the castle like a shadow. I wasn’t sure how much her Fae blood contributed to her maturity, but Noemi certainly felt wise beyond her years.
Before I could wonder further, magic pulsed through the air. My brows lifted as the outline of a door appeared, etched in a delicate filigree of sapphire blue that glowed softly in the dim corridor. The door’s design resembled both crackling flames and icy tendrils.
“You’re terrible for keeping this to yourself,” Graziana sniffed, casting a disapproving look at her sister.
As if the doors had always been part of the castle, they stood before us-massive and intricate, with deep wood and ornate sapphire metalwork along the edges. Noemi pushed them open and strode inside, brimming with a confidence that hinted at ownership.
“What could you need a room like this for, Gia?” Noemi teased, twirling as we took in the grand space around us.
The room was paved in pale marble, with familiar sapphire patterns etched in a circle around a central pool. Windowless, the shimmering stone walls echoed a sense of mystery.
“This is where we’re training them?” Graziana asked, casting a questioning look at Noemi.
Noemi sighed, finally relenting. “It’s not strictly a training room. It shifts to become whatever you need. When I found it, it was a library.”
Graziana’s surprise left her momentarily silent, though Noemi swiftly continued, steering the conversation away from the room itself.
“Since the ball has been moved up, you’re both expected to attend,” she informed us, her expression momentarily slipping into a teenager’s weariness. “I imagine Mother’s arranged a gown for you, which means you’ll meet our seamstress.”
“Isotta and Marinella won’t be pleased to see you there,” Graziana warned, glancing between Leonardo and me. “Mother wants to parade you as her prize. You’re already linked to the Water Court; if she sways Leonardo, she’ll have everything. Even if she offered him to Isotta, you’d follow. As long as she has Leonardo, she wins.”
A heavy silence settled over the room, the temperature dipping once more. I couldn’t argue, because her words were painfully true. A bond like ours wasn’t something you could just ignore. I knew in my core that no matter where Leonardo stood, I would follow. It wasn’t blind attachment-it was something deeper, an instinct that knew we were two parts of a single soul. Beauty or power couldn’t buy his loyalty; of that, I was certain.
“How can you be so sure of your mother’s plans?” I asked, my voice quieter than intended.
“Noemi has her visions, and I have the unfortunate gift of understanding our mother,” Graziana muttered, earning a soft laugh from her sister.