“King Euginius’ eldest son is already married.”
“So the succession is set? I thought there was still some debate.”
“There is, but regardless all the eldest sons of the ruling families are already wed. If you wished Zezilia to marry a High King you should have moved more swiftly.”
Ilar glared at Errol. “You are not going to give up are you?”
“Never. That child is talented, and I don’t want it to go to waste. She has great potential.”
Ilar turned to me. “You agree with this lunatic?”
“She has great talent, your highness. I have tested her mind and found much more potential than I have ever encountered untrained. There is even a chance she is as strong as a seventh son.”
Ilar turned away. Walking to a small table set with a light meal, he poured himself a goblet full of wine. After seating himself, he took a deep mouthful. Looking into the cup thoughtfully, he frowned.
“It is a deal, but...” Holding up a hand to stop whatever Errol was about to say, he continued. “The Sept Son must marry her when her training is completed.”
“Errol, I am not going to promise to marry her.” I didn’t look at my old tutor, but the emotion that I sent with the statement should have been enough to stop him in his tracks.
“Agreed,” Errol said without hesitation.
Closing my eyes, I fought back the urge to do something drastic, like flood his mind with my frustration or lift him up so that he couldn’t keep ignoring me.
“Trust me, Ilias,” Errol sent. “Just promise and trust me.”
I turned to glare at him. “I am not going to promise.”
Errol returned my look with irritating calm.
“Promise me, Master Aleron,” Ilar demanded.
After a final glare in Errol’s direction, I bowed to Ilar. “I shall find her a husband or marry her myself.”
Ilar didn’t look completely pleased, but Errol acted as if I had done exactly as he had requested. “Good. I shall be taking her with me when I leave. My wife shall speak to your wife about the details. I am not staying the whole Caelestis Novem. I have business in the low country.” Bowing to Ilar, he motioned for me to do the same and we took our leave.
As soon as the doors closed, I turned to Errol, picked him up and pinned him to the wall without laying a hand on him. I rarely used my mass moving abilities on others, and it was the first time I had done it to Errol since the end of my training, but I was angry. “What do you think you were doing in there?” I demanded.
Errol glared at me. “Put me down, Ilias.”
I didn’t want to, but I reluctantly lowered him to the ground.
“What have I taught you about losing your temper?”
I wasn’t repentant. “I was justifiably provoked. What did you think you were doing in there? She is only a child. You are bargaining her life away, and mine, without even checking out how we feel about it. I am ten years her senior.”
Errol shook his head. “I can see well enough to know that you two are fast becoming friends. I can see that you like her.”
“Yes, I find her amusing and unique, but that doesn’t mean that I want to marry the child, or will ever want to marry the child,” I protested. “She sees me as a friend of her older brothers. Not as a potential suitor.”
“That will change.” Errol turned away and began to walk toward the stairs.
“And if it doesn’t?” I followed.
“You will use that other option that you so carefully placed in your promise.”
He felt so smug I was tempted to flip him upside down, or at least push him against the wall, but I resisted the urge.
“Come, we are going to be late for the next talents’ meeting.” I frowned at the back of his head as we began to descend the stairs. Before he left I was going to extract a promise that Zezilia would never know of the nature of the bargaining that was done for her training.
Chapter III
Zezilia
I did not see Hadrian in the chaos before the feast. I looked for him until I had to go sit in my assigned place. I wanted to thank him for showing me the willows. I had spent the early afternoon lying beneath them, watching the movement of the branches and thinking. The peace and beauty more than made up for all of his blunders.
For the meal, I was seated with my brothers. That was how the arrangements usually went. Mother and Father joined the High King, his wife, and the lower kings at the royal table, while I and my brothers ate with the other guests. However, unlike the usual conversation topics of Korkta and who was studying what, my brothers were discussing the results of the talent’s meeting that afternoon.
“So, he decided it just like that?” Janus asked. He had not attended. As an heir to a lower kingship, he was not required to attend all talent meetings.
“You should have seen old Kronen’s face,” Clovis crowed. “For a moment, I thought he would burst a blood vessel.”
“Decided what?” I asked, having missed the beginning of the conversation.
“Old Neleck has decided to install the new Sept Son this Caelestis Novem,” Manvel informed me as Vander leaned over to catch Clovis’ attention.
“You should have seen the look on Hadrian’s face.” Vander asked. “I am telling you that he knew before hand.”
“He looked angry,” Blan stated.
“Why would he be angry?” I asked.
“Because he doesn’t want to be Sept Son,” Vander said, as if it was a forgone conclusion.
I must have looked confused because Manvel, in his usual studious fashion, clarified things for me.
“Hadrian is Sept Son because he is the strongest seventh son of age and training...”
“He is the strongest seventh son period,” Clovis put in.
“The strongest in fifteen generations and a stick in the mud,” Vander added as he reached for the
