A Trial of Sorcerers: Book One by Kova, Elise (korean novels in english .TXT) 📗

but only began actively trying to control, rather than stint, these past few weeks. Eira imagined her magic pooling around the crown, soaking it. She was careful not to summon actual water and drench the empress.

“Five minutes have passed, candidate,” Cordon said dully. “What do you intend to present?”

“The echoes of truth,” Eira said. Vhalla leveled her eyes slightly with Eira’s, clearly taking note of her intense stare.

The magic finally took hold. It was stable and strong. The words were faint, but the crowd continued to wait in a hushed thrall.

She would’ve wanted you to have it, a soft voice said across time. Eira didn’t know the time or place the moment she was tapping into had occurred in. But the connection was unwavering.

“She would’ve wanted you to have it,” Eira echoed, praying that these words would mean something to the empress. Fiera was not one to change who she was. “Fiera was not one to change who she was.” Even when she married an emperor of the South, she wanted a crown of silver. “Even when she married an emperor of the South, she wanted a crown of silver.”

The empress inhaled, raising a hand to her chest, clutching over her breast. She stared at Eira in slack-jawed shock. The panel oscillated focus between Eira and their sovereign.

So, this crown truly is… Eira breathed a sigh of relief. The new voice was younger than the empress’s now, but it was unmistakably Vhalla.

“So, this crown truly is…” Eira paused, her magic wavering. She’d never echoed the words she’d heard before and it took more focus than Eira expected. “You said that, in response to this woman, Your Majesty.” Eira paused. “No, two women…there’s another voice.”

She locked eyes with the crown again, and allowed the conversation to play out as long as she could hear it.

“Our sister’s, Aldrik’s mother’s. She was the empress this realm needed, if only she’d lived to fulfill that role,” Eira said in tandem with the second voice.

Then, there was the first voice again. “But she gave us Aldrik. And hopefully he has brought us an empress who will be worthy of picking up my sister’s crown.”

Eira blinked. The voices were becoming fainter. She was going to lose the connection. “I will be—you said, Your Majesty.”

Vhalla stood with purpose. The empress pressed both hands into the table, leaning forward. Her breath was ragged, her eyes wide and…vulnerable. Eira knew that expression because she’d worn it countless times. She just never expected to see it on her sovereign. And certainly not because of her.

“How… How did you know that?” Vhalla whispered.

“Your crown told me.”

“What?” Cordon said.

The emperor leaned forward. Ferro wore a smirk, settling in his seat. His eyes shone with an approval that made Eira stand a little bit taller.

“The crown told me,” Eira repeated, louder. “We change everything we touch. We mark this world with our mere existence. Especially sorcerers.” She turned, addressing the crowd in the process. The emperor and empress knew this principle better than anyone, from the stories Fritz had told her as a girl. “They’re called unintentional vessels—trapped bits of magic from a sorcerer in items.”

“It takes a great deal of magic to create an unintentional vessel,” the emperor said skeptically.

“Respectfully, Your Majesty, I have found it does not. Any bit of magic can mark an item, or a wall, or a tapestry—anything. And if there is something said while that imprint is left, then an echo of those words lives on.”

“This ring.” Cordon thrust his hand forward. On his middle finger was a large signet ring that nearly spanned both knuckles. “What do you hear from it?”

Eira glanced at the hourglass. There was only about a minute left. She shifted her focus from the crown and tried to condense her magic around the ring.

There was more murmuring from above. Whispers abounded. But Eira’s senses, and magic, were now honed. She heard the voices easier than the last time.

…commissioned from the Le’Dans, a female voice said. Wear it even when we are apart. Swear you will return.

“It was a gift, commissioned from the Le’Dans. The woman who gave it to you told you to wear it even when you are apart and swear you will return.”

“A reasonable guess,” Cordon said, though panic was creeping into his voice.

Eira waited. The words continued playing across her mind. She allowed them to flow like the sands in the hourglass. It was clearly a conversation between lovers. But, given the scandalous implications…one of the lovers was already spoken for.

“Ambassador, I do not think you’ll wish for me to say the rest, not here.” Eira bit her lip as the conversation finished.

“I am unafraid. Surely you—”

“Who is Lucelle?” Eira asked.

It was Cordon’s turn to jump from his seat. He stumbled backward, slowly shaking his head. “No,” he whispered twice over. “What sorcery is this?”

“My sorcery,” Eira answered as the time ran out.

The empress eased herself back into her seat. The emperor tapped on the hourglass. The whole of the Sunlit Stage continued to watch her with shock and horror.

Eira swallowed hard, trying to stand tall under the crushing weight of their judgment. No matter what happened from here—no matter how her magic was received or responded to—she finally had shown all of them that the voices she heard were real. Her theories on vessels were real.

Let someone try and deny her now. She didn’t expect her uncle, of all people, to rise to the task.

Fritz stepped forward from the line of sorcerers and guards at the back of the stage. “Your Majesties, I do not know if this presentation meets the requirements you laid out.”

“What?” Vhalla looked over her shoulder at the approaching Minister of Sorcery.

“The task, as you laid out, was to create something with magic—not do something.” Fritz’s attention drifted to Eira. Disapproval filled his eyes, tangling with what Eira believed might be resentment. She hadn’t known her family could find still new and creative ways to wound her. “In the interest of fairness to the