I practically tripped over myself in my effort to get down the steps. Trust me, you do not disobey a voice like that.
"Steady," the voice said and laughed. I found myself thinking, Whoever this guy is, he has mood swings. Then I actually glanced up and saw him. My mouth went as dry as sand.
It had to be the King. If it wasn’t I’d - I’d... I hadn’t a clue what I’d do, but it wouldn’t be something good let me tell you. Tamora Pierce had described him to be handsome, but that was like using "Breeze" to describe a hurricane.
He was drop dead gorgeous. There was no other way around it. Any woman whose insides did not melt when they saw him was insane. That entered my head the moment I could actually think again.
Then I realized I had to say something. "You’re the King aren’t you?" I asked, incredibly stupidly, and I was thinking in my head, Oh that’s going to impress him. Instead he laughed merrily and said, "Yes I am. And you are?"
"Don’t you know?" I asked. "I mean you are the King aren’t you? Oh that was good. Ignore me, I go on like this all the time."
The King half-stared at me in amazement/amusement. "I see. I’m afraid Numair was a bit vague about those details."
"Well, um I’m Rachel Oaks and I’m seventeen and I’m from Ireland, and why are you looking at me like that?"
Jonathan looked at me properly and blushed. I swear I almost died. You can never imagine what I felt at that moment. Trust me there is nothing like Jonathan of Contè blushing because he was looking at you. I’m gonna swoon.
"I’m sorry," he said slowly. "Your eyes..." He trailed off.
Anger flared up inside me and I think I must have turned white with rage, as Jon (I hope I can call him Jon), paled and backed away.
"Why does everyone mention my eyes?" I said, my teeth gritted and my voice dangerously slow and calm. "Why can’t people just stop staring and accept I have them?!" I think I must have almost been in tears.
Jonathan came up and put his arms around me and hugged me. "I’m sorry," he said. "If anyone should know how you feel it must be me."
"What do you mean?" I asked, breaking from his hold.
"I’ve forgotten how disturbing it can be to have people constantly staring. My position as King means that people stare at me everywhere I go. And not all are friendly."
I nodded, understanding what he meant. If I thought having violet eyes was bad, imagine being a King. Twice the amount of stares. I’d break under the strain.
"Jon?" a female voice asked.
We both turned around. Two women were standing behind us. Both were looking at me. The one who’d said "Jon" I knew immediately. Her looks gave her away. The red hair was a hint. The purple eyes gave her identity away completely. It was Alanna the Lioness, the King’s Champion.
The second was easy enough, if you thought for a moment. It wasn’t hard though. Her looks gave her away too. The dark hair and the hazel eyes. But what gave her away most was the love she had in her eyes for Jon. It was Queen Thayet, his wife. "Thayet, Alanna," Jonathan said. Thayet nodded, acknowledging the comment. Alanna, however ignored the greeting. Her eyes, painfully like mine were glancing at me sharply. I was in shadow, so she couldn’t see my own eyes. "Whose this?" she asked.
"This is.. Rachel Oaks," Jonathan said. "Come out of the shadows girl." I did and sighed, as I received the usual low gasps and eyes-widen routine.
Alanna’s eyes widened as she saw my own. Our eyes were alike, but mine were a shade darker than hers. "Who are you?" she whispered.
Thayet said nothing, but the expression on her face demanded she be told the same. I took a deep breath and said, "I am from a different world. I -"
Then he came.
A thief or a spy, I didn’t know which. He scrambled through the doors, dodging everyone easily. Judging from his uniform, I was told later, he had been masquerading as a Page. Alanna and Jonathan tried to use their magic’s but he blocked them easily.
"Let me help!" I cried, determined to help in any way I could, which probably wasn’t much.
"Don’t!" Alanna snarled, blocking me from doing anything. "You know nothing of this world!"
"Let me go!" I shrieked, then shrieked as the spy leapt on Jonathan and they both hit the floor.
"No!" I scremed, terrified from Jon’s safety.
Then it happened.
Somehow my anger and fear leapt out of me, or that was what I was told later. It seemed to lift the spy off Jonathan and throw him against the wall, where he blocked out from shock. I slumped, exhausted, onto Alanna, who nearly dropped me from shock herself.
"What happened?" I asked weakly. I got no answer and then the darkness came.
*****
I moaned and shifted in my sleep. Moments later I awoke and slowly opened my eyes. To the ceiling of what I had begun to regard as ‘my’ room. I shifted slightly, then yelped softly as every muscle in my body protested.
"You’re exhausted and stiff," a warm voice said. I turned my head slightly and recognised Numair as he came into my line of vision.
I opened my mouth to speak, and a loud whine came out. I swallowed, then tried again. "What happened?" I asked, weakly, my voice no more than a whisper.
"Judging from the fact your exhaustion is probably caused from the act you commitied before -"
"It is,"I interrupted.
"Then you’re exhausted because it took your energy to lift the spy off the ground and through the air."
"I did that?" I asked, disbelief clear in my voice.
"You did do that," Numair confirmed. "It appears you have a mind magic of sort."
"Meaning?" I asked.
"You can move things or people with your mind," Numair explained.
"Whoa." I think if I hadn’t been lying down I would have hit the ground.
"That’s not all," Numair said carefully.
"Hnmm?" I mumbled. I was tired.
"I tested you for magic while you were asleep. You also have a mixture of Wild Magic and the Gift and a magic we can’t identify."
"You have got to be kidding," I said slowly.
"I’m not. Rachel, you have a strange mixture of magic and I have to help you tame it."
