Free Untalented by Katrina Archer

did you expect me to feel? It was the one time when I needed you to be there for me.”
    “If I hadn’t been completely sure, it would have come out at some point and then we’d both be in bigger trouble.”
    “Do you always have to be such an honest prig?” Nalini looked so offended that Saroya immediately regretted her words. But Nalini hadn’t just lost her family to theft. “I lied for you!”
    “When?”
    “That time your parents came to visit. You begged me not to tell them about your healing classes.”
    “That was different. And it wasn’t even really a lie. It was avoiding the truth.”
    “So it’s fine when your life is at stake, but not the other way around? Thanks for nothing.” Identifying the ring as hers wasn’t even a real lie. Not if it supported the truth. But she wouldn’t win this argument with Nalini. Approaching Callor had taken all Saroya’s courage. Could she really expect quiet little Nalini to rise to such an occasion? Still. Nalini knew the ring belonged to her. “Whatever. Have it your way.”
    “I don’t want us to say goodbye like this. Stay strong.”
    “I’ll be fine. I just have to stay out of Martezha’s way. She’ll want me as far from here as possible.”
    “It’ll all work out in the end. You’ll expose her for the little thief she is. I can’t believe you’re a princess.”
    Nalini reached out to squeeze her hand, but Saroya avoided the touch, still upset. “It won’t do me any good unless I can prove it to someone. It may not mean anything even then.”
    “Why not?”
    “An Untalent on the throne? Not likely.”

    Saroya took stock of her new quarters. A narrow bed hugged the wall, with folded sheets and blankets atop a lumpy pillow. Two other beds lined the other two walls. Each bed had a nightstand at its head, and a small chest at its foot. Hooks lined the wall over the beds, her hooks empty, tunics and livery hanging from the others. A ceiling lantern provided feeble illumination—the small window in the corner let in little light. A whiff of hay and manure filtered in from the stables below.
    She dropped her saddlebags on the chest and took the stack of clothing from Mistress Weeda.
    “These will do you until you are fitted,” the head of the castle servants said. “See the seamstress on your first free day.” Mistress Weeda sized her up with an appraising eye. She pursed her thin lips then shook a bony finger at Saroya. “We punish laziness and impertinence here—how we treat you is up to you. Follow me. I’ll show you where to find your meals.” Mistress Weeda led her to the kitchens, where a flustered cook and several scullery maids met them. Saroya had never seen a kitchen so clean. A chorus of voices clamored for Mistress Weeda’s attention.
    “It wasn’t my fault—”
    “I told you berry sugar—”
    “Ruined, just ruined, what’ll they be having for dessert now?”
    Saroya gaped as Mistress Weeda sorted out the whole sorry mess then herded her out of the kitchen. “Always a crisis with that lot.”
    “Mistress Weeda, may I ask a question?”
    “Be swift about it. The stable awaits.”
    “Have you ever heard of a castle servant named Veshwa?”
    “I’m afraid not. If such a person ever worked here, it was before my time. Now, off to the stable with you. The head groom’s expecting you.” She bustled away in search of another problem to fix.
    Saroya grunted in disappointment. Finding this Veshwa would not be so easy after all.

    “Lord Dorn, are you implying that King Urdig is intentionally concealing an Untalented child in a bid to retain power?”
    Daravela, High Eminence of the Order of Adepts, stared at Loric. Though she kept her expression neutral, he could tell his words had shocked her to the core. She was known for her shrewdness, though, and he didn’t doubt that she’d already analyzed the implications and potential opportunity for the Order.
      “No. I don’t believe he knows of the other child,