The Prince's Bargain - K.M. Shea Page 0,10

all of it was veined with gold—the carpets were all gold, there was a statue of a surprisingly muscular and young wizard wielding a sword that Myth suspected had been forged out of magic before it was covered with gold leafing. All the stands for the copious candles and torches gleamed with gold, and the flooring was covered in a resin of some sort that was swirled with gold paint and magical designs.

It was a little too dazzling to be tasteful, but Myth found that it suited the good-hearted wizards who bustled through the chamber with great animation and smiled widely whenever they met her eye.

Myth picked up her teacup again and took another sip. “You do not sound as bad as a frog,” she said in Calnoric. “You are actually astoundingly good considering you’ve only been studying Elvish for a few years.”

“You’ve only been teaching me for a few years,” Blaise corrected, still speaking in slow, but painfully precise Elvish. “I started studying it right after I was made a wizard student, but my pronunciation was so horrid it didn’t matter how many words I memorized. It’s all thanks to you!”

“Hardly. Your perseverance is what did it. Have you had a chance to speak to any enchanters?”

“Not yet.” Blaise sighed. “I can speak niceties, but no matter how many books I read I can’t seem to fathom all the words I’d need to know to talk to any elf enchanter about magic.” She raised her pointer finger and thrust it to the sky. “But one day I will! I thought it would take me until I was fifty, but I am happy to report that under your tutelage I think I might be ready by the time I am approximately thirty-five.”

“You should have changed your pitch when you spoke the second ‘but’ in that sentence, due to the pause,” Myth gently corrected.

Blaise groaned and scrunched her eyes shut. “I’m never going to understand elven punctuation and how it affects intonation.”

Myth sipped her tea again. “You’re too hard on yourself. I must repeat my earlier praise and remind you how far you’ve come.” She paused and replayed the words in her mind, checking her own pronunciation. Trade translators were typically better at writing and reading than speaking. It was only due to her friendship with Blaise that Myth had become able to speak it with such informality and at such a fast rate—although that blasted lilt of hers occasionally persisted.

Myth and Blaise had become fast friends years ago when they were mere students. They met at a joint social the human wizards and elven enchanters had thrown to celebrate the truly magical bond they had forged between Tarinthali Ringali and her bond partner—who had since become her husband—Sir Arion Herycian. Naturally, the translators’ presence had been required for the enchanters and wizards to properly communicate, which was why Myth was there, observing a few of the senior translators.

The duo had bonded over their desire to improve their language skills, and their visits to practice linguistics had swiftly blossomed into a true friendship.

Blaise, Myth knew, was her closest friend and companion. Although the fiery haired girl was obsessed with trying to learn more about elven magic—a near impossibility since translators had never had the time to learn and assign all the necessary magic-related terms that were sure to come up in a conversation, thus birthing Blaise’s obsession with learning Elvish herself—Myth knew the apprentice wizard would throw down anyone who dared to harm Myth and cross Blaise.

Blaise had a brilliant disposition, but was mischievous by spades as well, which was why it wasn’t surprising to see one of the senior wizards shuffling in their direction.

“Good afternoon, Apprentice Mythlan.” The wizard slightly inclined his head to Myth, accenting the line of his craggy nose. “I hope our Blaise is minding her manners?” He set a hand on top of Blaise’s head, forcibly making her bow her head as well.

“Sir!” Blaise returned to speaking in Calnoric so she could complain as she pushed the wizard’s hand off her head. “I’ve told you before, Myth is my friend!”

The wizard seemed to hold his breath and squint in pain. “And I’ve always responded, Apprentice, that I recall your scheme when you were a mere student in which you sold completed essays to other students and then blackmailed them for cheating.”

Blaise shrugged. “They needed to be exposed for their misdeeds.”

The wizard ignored Blaise and returned his attention to Myth. “On behalf of everyone here at the