Page 45 of The Witch in the Dead of Night

“I don’t believe that elemental and corporeal magic will be as difficult for you. I think that psychal is your biggest challenge because you have something to hide. Perhaps several somethings.”

I avoided his gaze.

“What do I always say?” he asked.

“Fear tightens the bonds,” I repeated the words he recited nearly every time I failed.

“Precisely. The more you fight it, the worse you’ll be, and the longer this will take before we can move on. Psychal magic is tricky that way. Sometimes,” he said, “you have to run headfirst toward the things that frighten you most.”

I sighed, tilting my face toward the black sky. A shadow swooped clumsily across my field of vision, its raspy squawk awfully reminiscent of the wyvern hatchlings. I tracked it as it dove into the trees. “I’m not very good at that,” I muttered.

“Then this is your opportunity to embrace change,” he said. “The library has some excellent literature on the practice of reminiscence, or if you like I could—”

“No thanks,” I said, holding up a hand. “I’ll look into it.”

The corners of his lips turned upwards. “Good. Now, I think I’ve had quite enough for the evening. Unless you’d like to throw me around the courtyard a bit more?”

I bit my lip to keep from grinning. “Is that humor I’m hearing?” I said. “I didn’t know that you had it in you.”

He cocked his head. “There’s a lot about me you don’t know, Miss Erramun.”

I suspected that that was an understatement.

I braced myself as I arrived at the courtyard the following evening, uncertain if Enhart still found yesterday’s events to be amusing. The prince leaned back in his chair, looking decidedly bored. I dropped into the seat opposite him.

“Your wards are strong today,” he observed. “Surprisingly strong.”

I avoided his gaze, recognizing the prickling sensation of his will prodding against my mind. Today, he found no weakness. Unable to sleep without seeing Gran’s face, I had practiced my wards until the early hours of the morning. The shadows beneath my eyes were enough to prove it.

“Well, I suppose I’m satisfied,” he said. “So why don’t we try something new today.”

My ears perked up. “Something new?”

“Unless you’d rather continue our earlier lessons?”

I shook my head wildly.

“It doesn’t mean that you’re off the hook,” he warned as if reading my mind. “You must practice your wards every evening when we’re not in training. I reserve the right to test you, too.”

My pulse quickened. It didn’t matter to me, as long as we finally moved on to something more exciting. “Okay, okay.”

“We’re still in the psychal stage,” he announced, cracking open a large tome and sliding it across the table toward me. Disappointed that we weren’t moving on to corporeal or elemental, I peered over its edge.

“This is the opposite of what we’ve been learning,” I observed. The passage was about using psychal magic on others. I had never done that before.

“How astute,” said Enhart sardonically. “Practicing psychal magic on others will be an equally useful tool at court. Perhaps more so than warding yourself against attacks.”

“Wait,” I said, fighting back a grin. “Does this mean that you’ll be my test subject now?”

“It does.”

“Excellent, I’ve been looking forward to this.”

“I didn’t take you for the vengeful sort.”

“You might be surprised.”

Enhart perched on the edge of the table before me. “It’s easier if we’re in contact, to start,” he said, offering me his arm.