Blake did not return either the next day or the day after.
In the morning the scent of food woke me — invariably warm, hearty. The dishes changed, but the tray appeared every time while I slept. Two stood by the door with swords. Everything the same. Silent.
The celebration below had not ceased. Thus, the Priestess was still in the town.
But Blake's disappearance caused increasing anxiety. I did not try to escape, did not make a sound, simply sat in the room. The waiting gnawed at my nerves, but I strove to keep myself in check.
At some point I could not bear it any longer and went down. I intended to speak with Nimor. I knocked at his door.
Silence. No answer, no footsteps.
I stood a little before the door, listening. Nothing. Not a creak, not a movement behind the wall.
Irritation gradually grew into worry. After the midnight bell sleep came only after a couple of hours.
Thoughts in my mind would not quiet. The worst thing was not knowing.
Was he occupied with a problem related to me, or after all with the Priestess?
If the issue concerned me, it likely did not pose serious danger. Blake was stronger than anything I had ever seen.
But with the Priestess I could not be sure.
The music and merriment, which on the first day had seemed inviting, now sounded uneasy. I could not understand why, but inside grew a restlessness. It was linked to Blake's departure.
Even the first time, when he left on his military business, I felt empty without him. Probably it's time to admit: as long as he is nearby, the soul is calm. Denying it makes no sense.
Even when he is somewhere nearby, even with Adel, I may feel sad but in the heart there is still quiet.
It felt as though all my thoughts and sensations had become muddled. I could not focus on anything one.
The next morning I opened my eyes with difficulty. The sun already stood high, its rays beating into my face, forcing me to squint.
I still slept in Blake's bed, in the same position, with the same hope of catching the moment when he would return. Simply waking and seeing him nearby.
Voices sounded behind the door.
I tensed. Was he back?
I did not emerge immediately. I froze and began to listen. Through the crack in the door I caught part of their conversation.
"Even if I forbid her, she will do it anyway. You understand that?"—Blake's voice sounded irritated.
"I still do not understand why you are so sure it is exactly her we need,"—Adel said quietly, without a commanding tone.
"I already told you it's her. The one. You don't need to worry about it and again raise that question,"—Blake answered more sharply.
Were they talking about me?
"And the thing she says about the black shadow in the kitchen and about Eiron…"—Adel faltered.
"There is no logic in that, but we must work with it. That is why I summoned Grot. And that is why Roger is the only one who can be nearby if she fails to sleep again. We just have to wait a couple more days. Then I can be fully occupied with the walls,"—Blake's voice turned cold and composed.
Walls? What did he mean?
"The Priestess leaves today. Have you managed to find anything out?"—Adel asked.
"Not much. But I have been watching her closely. Did you carefully observe her white shadows?"—Blake asked in his usual military tone.
I listened to them and realized: even alone they behaved as if they were in the army. All by the code. No personal tender moments.
This gave me some inner relief, partially.
"They did not make any strange or suspicious movements. I also received a message from Naren. They will arrive with Rein as soon as possible. He said that at most within ten days. He even complained that they would expend all the additional mana and asked to prepare belts with crystals,"—Adel reported.
"Good. Send a request to the barracks; they will prepare the belts. And what about…"—Blake's voice grew a little quieter—"Eiron?"
"We checked him for dark magic and every other record. For now he is clean. And that means, that it was not him. A fake. Most likely the same one who replaced Sunny,"—Adel's voice remained as even, dry, militarily precise.
"I asked the professors if in our city there was a mage with the skill of shapeshifting. They could not recall anyone at once, but promised to search the archives."
"Good,"—Blake answered shortly. "Keep me informed. Report as developments unfold. And prepare yourself: today will be a heavy watch."
I heard him rise from the sofa.
Instinctively, I reached for the door before he could. I do not know why this came to me. It simply occurred that if anyone should open it, better I than he.
As soon as I flung open the door of his bedroom, Adel stood at once, and Blake froze.
I had not felt his wind beforehand, and his hand did not glow. So he did not know that I had stood behind the door all this time.
"You've returned,"—I greeted him.
Blake gestured to dismiss Adel, and she immediately left the room.
"All right?"—he asked, scrutinizing me.
"Yes,"—I replied calmly. "You did not appear for a long time. Did something happen?"
"There was much to do due to the Priestess's arrival,"—he answered equally calmly.
Most likely he did not notice that I had eavesdropped.
"I… I…"—I could not find words of gratitude for all that he had done, and stood before him as though rooted.
"Did something happen?"—a hint of concern touched Blake's voice.
"No, just…"—everything in my head swirled. Everything I had prepared beforehand had gone somewhere.
I simply watched him. I admired him.
His face, his posture, that quiet strength. The strictness and military composure. And yet attention to me, to all those small things.
Words would not come. I stepped closer, rose on tiptoe, and kissed him on the cheek.
Blake paused for a moment, then…
"Bee?"—he called me by that very name again. As though there was something more in it, something I had all this time been afraid to ask.
He stepped forward and kissed me on the lips. Insistently. With strength.
I barely kept my balance and instinctively stepped back.
His warm lips touched mine, and I couldn't pull away. Movement after movement he filled me from the inside. I could no longer think clearly.
Blake's winds touched me. They wrapped about my waist, slid over my skin, tangled in my hair. His arms drew my face closer. Tighter. Almost to the disappearance of the boundary between us.
He was strong, indisputably. But in that touch there was neither pressure nor dominance. Only silence and attention.
Heat rose from within, as though a spark long denied ignition was now flaring. I did not immediately notice how my arms, lowered along my body, froze. But the moment I surrendered to that fire and took a step forward, then…
There was a knock at the door.
Blake recoiled at once. Carefully, almost apologetically.
I opened my eyes and met on Blake's face an expression disappointment.
What was this? A kiss with me — disappointment?
All the passion, all the desire that flared instantly, extinguished just as quickly. His reaction erased everything.
Without looking back, he moved to the door and opened it in silence.
Two entered the room.
One carried a tray of food: roasted fish, sweet flatbreads, thin slices of fruit, spices with a piquant and fresh aroma. Everything reminded me of the dishes I had seen at the festival.
The second, carrying a dress, carefully laid it on the sofa. Waiting for no reaction, both bowed and left. In the room remained the smell of fried oil and strawberry honey.
I approached closer. The dress lay on the sofa, smoothed out, uncreased. A soft pink colour, with barely noticeable pattern in the fabric. The material thin, light, almost weightless to the sight.
It was layered. The lower part descended in tiers. Each layer lay atop the other with precision. The sleeves were long, transparent. To the touch smooth, cool. The corset was not stiff. It merely supported, softly outlining form.
All seams were made with precision. Not a single extra detail. Not one accidental stitch.
"This is…"
But I did not finish. I stood silent, staring at the dress, unblinking. Admiration welled up inside me.
"This is for you. Wear it today,"—Blake spoke curtly, in military fashion. "Today you may go out to the festival. The last day."
The final words were harder for him.
So that's what they had been discussing. He decided to let me go. Did he truly think I would flee?
"One condition,"—he looked at me sternly. "You must return before the sun sets. Not during, not after. But before."
There was logic in that. In the dark the danger for me was greater than by day. And I still had not told him about the false Blake on the stairs. Therefore his requirement seemed fair.
"Is that difficult for you?"—he asked, catching my silence.
"No. I will be able to fulfil it,"—I answered calmly. Confidently.
"With you will be fellows from the academy. Try not to make trouble,"—he smiled.
But I noticed a barely perceptible grimace on his face. Something restrained, faintly tense.
He had difficulty. And yet he let me go. At last.
"I will prepare and accompany you. Meanwhile, you eat something and change,"—he said and went into his room, closing the door behind him.
I did not feel real hunger, but decided to snack and try a little of each dish. Such variety doesn't come around every day.
After the short meal I took the dress and went to my room. Quickly took a bath. In my head the excitement did not cease from his appearance. I hurried each movement so as to put it on sooner.
I emerged into the sitting‑room, hoping Blake was already there. I wanted to see his reaction. To me. To the dress.
But he was not there.
I sat on the sofa and waited patiently.
After some time he appeared. He wore white military armour, not ceremonial, with mana crystals sewn in. In his hands he held a belt with similar crystals set in two rows.
"Mana…"—I blurted.
He looked directly at me. But his expression remained dry, composed. The usual military bearing. Not a hint that he saw anything more in me. Could that kiss have been a mistake for him?
Maybe. But that troubled me less than the belt with mana in his hands.
He intended to spend magic. A lot. And outside the festival still continued.
"And remember. Do not linger at the magical lights, however much they beg you,"—he reminded me. His voice calm, as before.
"Yes,"—I answered shortly. I stepped closer. "May I help?"
He said nothing, simply handed me the belt. I took it. Wrapped my arms around Blake's waist and fastened the belt. My fingers lingered on the buckle. Slowly I tightened the belt. Without realizing it, I lingered.
If I ask, will he answer? Where is he going? Why?
He had just returned. And already left again.
I could not ask him. I could not beg. He was the High Mage of the entire realm. He could not always be here. With me.
My thoughts tangled. I had long desired freedom. And now that I had it, I did not feel joy. Only a dull regret. Only the shadow left behind him.
I did not understand what these feelings were. And why they would not let go.
"Let's go. They are waiting for you,"—Blake called, pulling me from my thoughts.
"Ah… yes,"—I cleared my hands from the belt and followed him to the stairs.
We descended in silence. From time to time I looked at his face. The same seriousness. The same composure. Not a single glance in my direction.
Outside the gates, just after the training ground, I saw Kay, Lian and Lily by the river. On the road, at the very gates, stood Adel. She wore blue military armour — the same as Blake's, with crystals and a belt.
They both were leaving with mana. Something serious?
"I will be in the Tower of the Guardians today. It is far. So be careful,"—Blake reminded.
"Understood,"—I said quietly.
I looked at Adel. She did not pay me the slightest attention. Her gaze was fixed only on him.
This is her seal. She will look only at him. Her whole life.
I remembered Lily's words.
This time Blake did not say goodbye. Not even a glance. He simply left with Adel.
I remained standing. I watched them go. I did not feel his winds.
"Wow, Bian, you are so beautiful,"—came the admiring unison of Kay's and Lian's voices.
But I still could not look away from the place where Blake had disappeared.
"Do you know what's the worst?"—Lily spoke quietly, approaching me from the other side. "She will do everything for him. Everything, except one thing. She will not be able to hurt him. The seal does not allow hurting someone you love. He is in pain, and you will also be in pain simply because he is unwell."
I looked at Lily. She too was gazing where Blake had gone.
"Imagine you have fallen in love. And he already has another. And you will nevertheless protect her. Because if you harm her, he will suffer,"—she sighed heavily. "So my advice to you: do not fall in love with our High Mage."
Lily shifted her gaze to me. Our eyes met.
While she spoke, Kay and Lian were already walking around. Examining my outfit. Debating where one might have brought such a dress from. They said that in the capital hardly anyone had seen anything like it.
I decided to set aside all thoughts of Blake. They brought no benefit. Only heaviness. And at last I paid attention to the lads.
"I am truly beautiful today,"—I turned around, allowing the dress to whirl in the breeze.
"You already are beautiful, and now even more so,"—Lian remarked.
"You will definitely be my wife,"—Kay said, looking at me with an expression as if it had already been settled.
"Oh, enough. Let's go already,"—Lily interrupted them and took the lead toward the gates, beyond the inner wall.
We followed her.
"Guys, I only need to return before sunset. Agreed?"—I warned them as we walked.
"Yes, we know. Mr Blake gave us clear instructions,"—Lily answered, not turning back.
"He even allocated money for us,"—Kay said, showing a pouch of coins.
"That's all because Bian eats a lot,"—smirked Lian.
I laughed. They always knew how to make me laugh. With them I forgot everything: the anxiety, the questions that would not let go when I sat alone in the room.
"Let's first do some beautiful braids for you,"—Lian said. He pointed to a tent. There, with open sides, girls sat on stools and braided hair.
Kay took my hand and led me to them.
"Girls, please make beautiful braids for our Bian,"—he said, without even thinking to ask if I agreed.
Several glanced over. Their eyes slid over me, top to bottom. A whisper spread in a wave. I was taller than everyone, and my hair white. They immediately decided I was a mage.
One of the girls invited me to sit. As soon as I lowered myself onto the wooden stool, another joined her. Both admired my long white hair. Like the Guardians'.
I did not answer. And the lads remained silent.
Kay, without waiting, began to describe what braids would suit me. Two white, luxurious, airy. Those that normally are made only at balls.
The girls exchanged glances and immediately set to work. They whispered, made adjustments. Checked each step.
Lily also settled nearby. They began to braid her up‑high, from which two thick braids ran.
I knew what it looked like. I did not want to think about it, yet I still thought.
Lian and Kay occasionally brought us buns and fruit bought from street vendors. Not knock‑offs. While the girls worked on our hair, they went for food, returned and fed us as though children.
When the hairstyles were finished, I stood and immediately felt gazes upon me. First from those in the tent, then passers‑by.
"They say it's not for nothing that mages are born divinely beautiful. She is proof of that,"—I heard the voice of one of the women.
Kay paid the coins and led us further. Took my hand and Lily's. His pace was a little faster than before. It seemed he did not like the attention we were attracting.
But that did not help. We were stared at. Especially me.
On the street children ran up and touched my dress. At first Lian tried to shoo them off, but I gave a sign not to interfere. I understood. The dress was beautiful. Once I saw it myself, I wanted to touch it too.
We passed by when I stopped at a small stall. On the sign it said: "Knock down three bottles, get a prize." On the table lay three leather balls, slightly larger than a palm. A little farther stood rows of tables, each with bottles in different arrangements.
"Kay, let's try,"—I stopped and pointed to the stall.
"I heard it's almost impossible. The balls too light. They don't reach or don't knock down the bottles,"—Lian replied with his usual irony.
"I just want to try once. And that's all,"—I said.
"All right,"—Kay nodded, though his voice betrayed doubt. "But only once."
They were right. The balls really were almost weightless. No matter how I threw, they did not reach the goal.
I asked for another attempt.
"Remember, lady. Magic usage forbidden,"—said the vendor, not looking at me.
If only I truly had magic...
I chose one of the tables, where the bottles stood closer together. I clenched the ball in my palm. I focused. I made the throw.
The ball bounced off the glass and ricocheted away. Not a single bottle fell.
For a moment I thought we were being cheated.
"Let's go. This is a waste,"—Lily whispered.
But before she finished, Lian and Kay were already paying for new balls.
"Now we'll show class,"—they said in unison.
I saw their hands begin to glow.
"Guys,"—I said to them sternly.
They stopped.
I approached, stood between them, bent down and whispered quietly:
"No magic. It's wrong to cheat since childhood."
"How did you know?"—Kay turned over his shoulder.
I winked in response. They exchanged glances, and the light in their palms extinguished. Throw. The ball hit a bottle and bounced away. Another, again a miss.
"All right, let's go,"—Lily said, pulling them along.
They left without a word. Their steps conveyed disappointment, and I understood that.
"At least now we know for sure it's impossible,"—I tried to cheer them up.
"But how did you realise we wanted to use magic? We didn't give ourselves away in any way,"—Lian asked.
I stopped and led them a little farther, to where there were no people. We sat on a stone bench by the fountain.
"Can you keep secrets?"—I asked in a half‑voice.
They moved in closer.
"Of course. We already keep yours,"—Kay answered confidently.
I truly trusted them. Not a drop of doubt inside.
"When someone uses magic, I see a glow. In the hands. Or in the chest," I said equally quietly.
They froze. They looked with scepticism.
"Am I using magic now?"—Lian raised his hand. The hand was ordinary, without light.
"No,"—I answered.
He repeated the motion. A soft glow flared in the palm.
"And now?"
"Now yes."
They exchanged glances. For the first time with mild disbelief.
"Do you see crystals in us? Those that give power?"—Lily asked.
I hesitated, choosing words.
"No. I do not see them constantly. Only at the moment when you use magic. Blake said that most often magic is channelled through the hands. It is simpler. But when you use the power otherwise, I see the source. Like at the river, when Blake gave you instructions. Then the light came from the chest. From his and yours."
I fell silent. Let them absorb what I had said.
"Maybe it's the crystal itself that glows. But I do not know for sure. For me it is also new."
"Cool,"—Kay said. "And you did say you have no magic."
"There is none. It is not magic. It is something else. Closer to a gift. Magic I indeed have none,"—I said quietly.
"All right. Enough of the serious. Let's go dance,"—Lian proposed.
"Great idea. Let's go,"—Kay picked up.
We made our way to the square. There the music was already playing. Violins, trumpets, drums. People laughed, children spun in the dance, elders clapped their palms. Everything around breathed life.
I stopped and closed my eyes. The air was full of the scents of flowers and sweet drinks. Everything seemed real. One of those rare moments when you feel you are alive.
Lily took my hand and pulled me into the dance.
I did not know the steps, but I caught the rhythm, copied her. We spun, we laughed. The lads brought wreaths and small wildflowers, we wove them into our hair. Music, light, ribbons, faces all intertwined.
And suddenly, amid it all, I saw what should not have been.
Something slipped by at floor‑level, swift and silent. It passed between us and disappeared into the crowd.