Free Chronicles of the Overworld Book 1 — Nihal of the Land of the Wind by Licia Troisi Page B

to discover and help him refine his prodigious talent, and I am certain that he will be a great help to our world under tyrannous oppression.”
    Galla looked with liking at Soana. “I believe you are right, Soana. It may be that this young man is the element the Council has long been awaiting, ever since Reis stepped down: a strong guide who can show us the way to freedom.”
    The young sorcerer cleared his throat. “All I hope, for now, is to be able to make my contribution to the struggle of the free lands against the Tyrant. I don’t know what plans destiny reserves for me, but I am flattered by the faith all of you place in me.”
    As Sennar spoke, however, Astrea’s full attention was on Nihal. She stared with such intensity that Nihal began to feel uncomfortable.
    “But this girl in your retinue, Soana …” The queen spoke no further, as Soana begged her with a glance to be silent.
    Nihal was confused. She wondered what Astrea had been about to say and why she had studied her so intensely. She was tempted to ask Soana to explain, but the group had already broken up, and everyone was taking their places at the long table at the center of the hall.
    Nihal followed the others, still preoccupied, until the sight of the lavish table swept away all of her musings. One free seat remained, and it was next to Fen.
    Nihal felt her stomach flutter. Her heart began beating wildly, and for a moment she worried her fellow diners might notice. She feigned composure as she went to the table, but just as she moved back her chair, Fen gave her a luminous smile.
    Darned ears
, Nihal thought, as she felt them turn bright red.
And darned knees. Why in the heck do you have to go all shaky like that?
    Sennar, who was sitting directly opposite Nihal, winked at her in affectionate mocking.
    Soana sat at Fen’s other side. For the entire duration of the lunch, she spoke with Galla and Astrea about the war and the Tyrant. Only rarely did she turn toward the knight, but he was very solicitous of her comfort, pouring her drinks, smiling at her, and brushing his hand against her knee beneath the tablecloth now and then.
    Nihal tried to stay calm. She planted her eyes on her plate and set to eating in great haste. She didn’t taste a bite. She didn’t take part in the conversation. She was aware only of the presence of the knight at her side. It was like being next to a fire. And furthermore, she could smell him—no particular scent, just the smell of his skin. She sat there, head bowed, trembling inside.
    Despite all her efforts, Nihal was unable to avoid Fen’s glance for the duration of the lunch.
    “So, are you going to reveal your secret?”
    Nihal choked down the mouthful she was chewing, gulped in water to help it go along, and turned toward the knight with the air of a lamb heading off to meet the wolf.
    “What secret?”
    “The secret of your sword. Where did that beautiful weapon come from?”
    “Where did it come from?”
    Fen burst out laughing. “Listen, do you always answer other people’s questions with questions of your own?”
    “Yes. That is, no. Not always. Sometimes.”
    “I get it. You don’t want to tell me the name of your trusted arms maker. That’s the way it should be. Warriors have to hold on to their secrets.”
    “Of course, that’s it,” Nihal managed to stutter out, and then she was relieved to hear Soana’s voice interrupting the pathetic conversation.
    “Nihal, Sennar is going to need some help tonight. He’ll be staying up, meditating to prepare himself for tomorrow’s trial. Someone who’s not entirely clueless about magic will have to keep him company. I think it’s a good job for you. What do you say?”
    Nihal couldn’t wait for that torment of a lunch to be over. “Yes. Of course. I’m glad to do it.”
    “That means you and I will have to take care of our fencing this afternoon,” said Fen, and this time Nihal’s face flamed more fiercely than ever.

    At the end of the meal,